When home is nothing less of a heaven, I named it 'Prashasthi'.

Prashasthi

'Prashasthi', it's our home

and it's my daughter's name again.

The same name, in all charm

I have given for my home too

And how wise am I, when I 

managed to name both same

leaving my brain, less imaginative 

a second time and my emotions 

a thorough study, when no other 

word can make our world,

worth an abode, less a heaven.

Sweetness poured in every morning,

with the chirping of birds

that nested in our sandal tree

and there again the sound of

falling rain on the rocky terrain

and final dripping of the last 

droplets, misted the open courtyard

and the bamboos, that leaned west 

for the sunbath for the evening

gleam of light from the lamp, 

the shadows of the night sky

through the pergolas

and the gentle breeze, 

made the dining more cool and comfy, 

when everything and everything

brought countless luxuries of nature,

for our home.

The open pond,

by the side of veranda 

was home to koi carps, guppies

and a few more and did they 

dance in rhythm to the music

that flowed high and low.

When the balconies, 

opened to the seas

the coffee table,

got occupied in all chances

and the library rack, 

resourced all my young minds 

further made one an architect, 

another an aeronautical engineer

yet another an artist , 

and the doors always waited 

for her children to drive back home

And that was our 'Prashasthi'.

© Parvathy Ramachandran