Gift of the Daughters (my sister and my gift to our dad)

Back when I was younger, I wanted to do something different for my father on his birthday, something personalized. At the time, I wasn’t much into writing; I only occasionally wrote free verse poems and terrible short stories. And I hardly knew any other art form that I could work on without embarrassing myself.

So I explored types of poetry and one caught my eye. I modified it, sprinkled my own rules and wrote a very short poem for him. That one-stanza poem had six lines– first and sixth lines were of one word each. Line 2, 3, 4 and 5 each had 2, 3, 4 and 5 words respectively.

It was loosely based on a classic poetry type called Cinquain. Cinquain (pronounced as sin-cane not sin-kwane) is a type of poetry that has five lines, first line of one word, second line of two words, third line of three words, fourth line of four words, fifth line of one word describing the first word.


Silently cries
To fulfill wishes
of others, he strives.
Deserves equal value and song,

I wanted to use this idea for his gift, but didn’t know where or what kind of gift. I consulted my creative bubble, my sister, and she came up with the idea of a personalized table calendar. She’d design the calendar and I’d write twelve such short poems for each month.



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Each page had half a letter in white around the dates–F, A, T, H, E, R.

It wasn’t anything extraordinary, but the calendar still holds a sweet memory. Seeing Dad smile and say he was ‘proud of his girls’ made it all worth it.

And as a gift for my sister who enhanced the words with her magical hands, I crafted this little Cinquain for her too, which was all I could do for her at the time…

Fights, troubles,
Berates, shares nothing.
Nags all the time,
Yet loves you for life.


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