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My Sweet Little Girl

YESHA THE BOSS!

You wake up in a dancing mood. Then you run and dance with all your energy. There wasn't a single day you got silence. Though you are merrily funny and nagging but always worth being by your side. I am growing older by your side and everyday is a new beginning. You make me wiser and cool. 

We fight over breakfast –You always have a wrong demand. The food item that wasn't in the store becomes your menu. Banana when we forget to buy, broccoli when it wasn't the season, burger when lettuce was lost to frost, brown marry biscuits when it was hidden by the rat, milk when the cow wasn't on the mood, munch when you lost all your teeth, and watermelon when your aunt was running behind the cart. 

We fight over the dress –I choose white shirt and black pants. You go for the pink and purple dresses. I choose purple and pink; you go for brown and white. I choose brown and white; you go for mixed with green. I choose green and white; you turn back to frocks and heels. On average it takes some time just to decide what to wear. Luckily we don’t have to board the plane and cross the heavy traffic; otherwise I would have been rusticated long before you found me. And the battle was for so long now. I just wish you turned big soon.

We fight over the dinner –Pasta on the table, you drop down and demand spicy curry and rice. After a rush of preparation, you turn down rice and egg. Again after a quick jump over your demand, you loop out for noodles… our story never ends in harmony. 

When I cannot fulfill your unending demand, you lashes me with all your anger, the heavy punches and screams. Thank God our neighbors were all dumb and asleep. Thank God I am iron made to receive your Sholay punch. Sometime I doubt you may be the reincarnation of a great Muhammad Ali, or the Bruce Lee. 

Because I'm afraid of your flying kick and sharp claw flapping over my barren head! 

Your afraid 

Dad

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