top of page

Father’s hand me downs

Updated: Oct 8, 2022

By Sayali Pawar




I grew up stealing my father’s clothes

The shirts somehow fit me perfectly

Five years ago and now

I grew up hearing I don’t look like him

His speeches somehow utter through me

Three years ago and now

I grew up fearing his gaze past dinner

The stale bread somehow called both at 3





A year ago and now

We pretended to have just woken

A glass of water and deliberate droopy eyes

He seemed to have watched the same films as I

I remember lying on the cold floor

As close to the room downstairs as possible

With unshaped words and a long night to mull

I grew up wearing my father’s clothes

It snuggles me just like tonight

With a glass of water in hand upon calidity

Again and a first now

I turned when he did on impulse

Our common life sighed when I

Asked, ‘would you like half of the bread baba?’



By Sayali Pawar




 
 
 

11 Comments

Rated 0 out of 5 stars.
No ratings yet

Add a rating
Shivam Rathod
Shivam Rathod
Oct 30, 2022

True that👌👏

Like

Komal Pawar
Komal Pawar
Oct 30, 2022

Adorable 🥰

Like

Karan Patil
Karan Patil
Oct 29, 2022

Simply the best ☺️

Like

Mayuri Chaudhari
Mayuri Chaudhari
Oct 29, 2022

So sweet!!

Like

svp xyz
svp xyz
Oct 29, 2022

"The shirts somehow fit me perfectly" -- Yes somehow they do.

And ofcourse very relatable and a very lovely special one.

Like
SIGN UP AND STAY UPDATED!

Thanks for submitting!

  • Grey Twitter Icon
  • Grey LinkedIn Icon
  • Grey Facebook Icon

© 2024 by Hashtag Kalakar

bottom of page