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In the cradle of comfort, they hold us tight,
Parents, our guardians through day and night.
In their embrace, troubles gently fade,
Their love, an eternal shelter, never to evade.
Through every storm, they stand firm and strong,
A haven of solace when things go wrong.
Their arms, a refuge from life's harsh reality,
In their warmth, we find serenity.
Their words, like soothing melodies, they sing,
Guiding us through life's uncertain fling.
With every hug, with every tender kiss,
They fill our world with boundless bliss.
Parents, the ultimate cradle of comfort, indeed,
In their love, all our fears recede.
Forever grateful, for their unwavering care,
In their arms, we find solace rare.
In the cradle of their care, you first drew breath,
Their love, a constant guide, from birth to death.
What do I owe to my parents, I ask?
To be myself, my truest, that's my task.
For in their eyes, I find my mirrored soul,
Their dreams for me, the map to reach my goal.
To be blissful, ecstatic, swimming in divine sea,
Their legacy of joy, they pass to me.
To laugh, to rejoice, in life's every turn,
Their wisdom, a beacon, forever to discern.
So I owe them my truth, my joy, my light,
To walk the path they paved, both day and night.
For me to be myself, a tribute to their love so pure,
In every laugh, in every joy, in every moment for sure.
Image © Arup Ganguly |
