Holy Bond Of Love

When life comes full circle in my middle age,

I think of childhood, those years of freedom,

When life was less complicated,

When we used to fly on silver-tipped wings.

Doing our own things.

When I and my sister played together,

Innocent outdoor games in great abandon,

When every festival was an event to look 

Forward to,

When life was a celebration of love.

When everything in life was clear had no hidden agenda,

And on the day of Raksha Bandhan, my sister with her smiling face,

Would tie rakhi, a thread cementing a relationship,

Bonded in blood, sealed with platonic love of siblings.

The thread of great sanctity, symbolizing age-old tradition,

of brother protecting a sister from the evils, and devil's, of world.

I now look at the ornamental rakhi on my wrist,

Then look at the happy face of my sister with her gift,

A small token from me, for festival of Raksha Bandhan,

my joy knows no bounds, I kiss my rakhi on my wrist. 

Thank my sister for gifting this holy bond 

 Of a sacred thread blessed by her love.