“I know, what you, do, in Dubai
Cleaning toilets, washing plates”
My son, messaged me, with a sigh
He loved, my myth, why truth, he hates!

“From my name, I have, hacked off, your name
No more, I am, one, son, of a slave”
“Son! Who, brought whom, sacrament of shame
You don’t embody, those values, I gave!”

“You are, a cipher, I won’t, be you”
Was the, very last message, he hurled, at me
That, little lad, who had, called me, “Bapu”
Wants, a “Dad”, with a, million dollar, patrimon(e)y!

What, why, should, I, lament, resent
A life, that lost, love’s legacy
I rejoined, with a heart, not, yet rent
“Your Father, Ain’t A, “Nobody”!”

© 2022 Vikas Chandra