A taxi was booked and the meal almost cooked,
To welcome my son and new daughter.
But the fates intervened
In this oft dreamt of scene.
Things don’t always go as they ought to.
Due to technical glitches and climatic hitches
They are sitting at home in DC.
While I sit in Cochin
Alone – with a gin.
An ominous sign, you’ll agree.
My solution is flimsy, no more than mere whimsy:
Try displacement activity.
I’m off to buy pot plants –
Small palms – in the off-chance
It will keep me from dark misery.
When fate seems adversary, a trip to the nursery
Can settle my pulse; keep me calm.
Some new vegetation
May soothe my vexation.
I am told nature acts a balm.
Though my rhymes are not clever, forgive this endeavour
To rescue myself from depression.
It was just an attempt
To pre-empt the contempt
Of self-pity – and future confessions.