For never letting my roots lose the ground, I still remember being a kid who always wanted support for all petty chores. I know, I was a feeble baby once which was showered with all care and love needed. It was my mom and dad who were more than happy to look after me and feed me then.
They were the ones who taught me to nibble, to talk, to walk. Just like a mother goose, they showed us the way, sharpening our sense of direction. They always acted as mentors and as friends preparing their off-springs for the flight. They would hold on to the bicycle till they were confident enough to let it go. They would jog with us on the morning walks, keeping an eye unless we fall and hurt ourselves. They were always ready to take us under their wings through the emotional traumatic teenage years, which were so full of concern. On and on they made us realize and feel this special bond. The comfort of sharing all odds, the warmth in each others' presence. The bond of being in a family.
I am strong, grown up, independent. I can find my feed. Yet when in a crowded party, my mind always scans for that familiarity in faces. When in pain, I know just which pain killer would help, but the heart seeks the same attention and affection. Young and energetic I can fly high, but I keep coming back to my nest and I find them waiting for the reunion.
