How to be everybody?

Parents have great dreams for their children and justifiably so.Their children are the apple of their eye.So children often want to be everything that they think their parents would like them to be and moreover to children the whole world is at their feet and anything is possible.This poem is dedicated to my parents who mean the world to me and who sometimes believed in me more than i did myself .it also potrays my futile attempts to be everything

The Perfect Son

I was born into this world alone and cold.
You then christened me your son,with love did you hold.
For the rest of your life you said in untold words,
I shall be the center of your little universe.

You taught me to dream,
And then told me to dream some more.
I did my best with earnest.
With a little help,sure did it pour.

I wanted to be the sailor on the sea
And the rockstar,every man wanted to see.
I then caught the fancy of coats black and white
And so many curious things in my sight.
I was enamoured by the fights of robbers and cops.
I played those parts along with all its props.

In between those dreamy days,
I dreamt more than you can tell me ways.
A painter,pianist,singer and dancer.
Ah yes! I always wanted to be the bus conductor.

But you smiled through my childish concern:
How would I be them all in turn?
I lived then in a fearless world.
Anything was possible if my mind could hold.

You encouraged me all that way.
You assured me I could do no wrong.
But a brutal world awaited me outside
And you couldn't hold my fears for long.

You may realise with cruel time since my birth
That I may not be the most perfect thing on earth.
But I hope and aspire to be,
Your most perfect son that I can be.

Raghuraj S. Hegde

18th August,2008