My Fearsome Father

Cry he doesn't, in pain

His eyes may smile, not his teeth in vain 

At the hands of the doctor his eyes may show fear

In front of me he doesn't show it, my dear 

With a cold, he shivers, clutches his shoulders 

Smile nonetheless, he does 

In the heat he walks, without an umbrella nor a cap

Makes sure I, sport an umbrella and a cap 

At the hands of a doctor he's a child 

Discipline he does, me, always like a child 

In front of others he's calm and quiet 

Yet they fear his tongues might 

Uncut and unpolished like a diamond in the rough 

Such shine, even for such a rough diamond


- Sachin