The kind of responsibilities I want

Of protecting the edge of the pencil in that box
Of getting the crayon stains off the white socks.

Of shining the polish of the shoes so bright,
Of running and catching that yellow kite,

Of wearing the fancy dress on my big day,
Of eating all the desserts from the buffet.

Of having that first dialogue in broken english,

Of tugging the rope beyond the finish.

Of playing till dark when the bugs start to bite,

Of running so hard that the stomach becomes tight.

Of playing with toy cars till the tires go screech,

Of colouring the Doll's hair an uncanny peach.

Of buttered paranthas and jalebis so sweet,
Of Nani's cake and dadi's home made treats.

Of learning to write in the cursive font,

Of reciting the hindi poem so daunt.

Of having the longest hair in the class,

Of pillow fights and rolling on the grass.

Of ballet class and swimming sessions,

Of the most colourful bandaid on all the abrasions. 

Of the shoes that light when I walk,

Of secret diaries with the tiny lock.

Of the biggest star on the christmas tree,

Of playing and laughing because I am carefree.

Those are the kind of responsibilities I want.

Those are the kind of things to flaunt. 

Give me my husband...

I have known it for years now.
There was no hiding it from Day 1.
I hoped the obsession would go away with time.
But i hoped in despair.

I've known it all along.
Right from the time we got married in 2007.
It coincided with your 3rd term in the state.
You ruled your state in style and he became a fan.
A super one at that.

What started as mere hero worship turned into a full blown infatuation when you announced you were going to conquer the country.
He finally admitted in in February 2014 confessing ironically on Valentines day that he needed 2 months away from me. Away from family. Away from us ...To be with you. To help you win. To fight for you...
He didn't really leave home physically.
But mentally he was always with you.
He stalked you over the social media.
Preyed on everyone who belittled you.
He took pride in being called a Modified fanatic..

I would wake up at 2 AM to see that lone light in the room.
The light from his phone.
Typing away.
fighting a written duel on forums unknown...with people unnamed ....on causes unexplained..But all for you...
He tweeted like a bird...
He fought social wars with random friends of friends of friends on Facebook if they ever wrote a word against you.

Finally came the day when he woke up before anyone rose.
It was the day you smelled victory.
The malt of the most expensive kind was opened in our household.
The dance of a crazy man was danced.
The song of a hysterical heart was sung.
I hoped this was the end of it.
The love affair was over.
But all in despair.
Little did I know that this was the start of a affair that would take a turn of the most serious kind.

He celebrated your first anniversary with pride.
He shunned everyone who questioned your commitment...for him..and for the others...
On your second anniversary he was seen giving full mouthed lectures to strangers at parties...Without the effect of alcohol..
I'd often see friends' provocation to hear his tales of love.

I tried everything. I even gave up my job and started working with him.
I thought he'd lose himself in the burden of business and I'd win him back.
But you dealt the massive blow.
That was when you gave the bad men across the border a fitting reply.
He woke up to tales of Kargil.
He read post 65 war books.
He watched Pro India movies.
What started as a small affair was now an everlasting love.
Even as he would bathe he would tell me how he wished he hadn't failed in the SSB interviews.
He proclaimed he would've been in the infantry if he had.
All to be ONE with you...

that brings me to the current day.
I am not the one to give up so easily.
But I am willing to do a bargain.
I give you back the son of the land, you give me back the husband, Mr PM!