Oh my child, I would always make you feel proud,

And not ridicule you for your mistakes and scream loud.

I would let you make mistakes without feeling stupid,

I will love you for trying, when you get shot by the cupid.

Just let me be your Dad, the way I am,

I would always see you as that tiny tot in the pram.

*****

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After a little more than a year of my blogging journey, as I migrate from a shared blogging space to my own website, I was absolutely sure that I need to start it with humour and satire, a liberal take on the true and honest me, that has always been my forte.

But still, as I sit down to write this today morning, a chilling fear envelops me. Is today the right day to write this, for this day had always been feared for its notoriety. Today is Friday, the 13th.

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My tryst with thyroid dates back to the time, more than two decades ago when I decided to settle down in life.

Quite an odd correlation, many would wonder but it’s true for me. I recollect the day I had taken my newly married bride to my hometown to get her introduced and seek the blessings of the elders in the family, as had perhaps become the ritual and custom.

 

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