Last month, my dad died in India. As a son I performed his last rites. I have written a poem and here it is:

It was a normal evening
I got a ring ring
A call from my sister
Made my life a twister

Didn't see that comin'
Not even warning sign
Hit me on a sudden
(still) Recovering from the pain

He wasn't loving
At least to his offspring
He wore frown
Always as a crown

Wasn't too religious
But was quasi-religious
Couldn't understand himself
Even by himself

Flew 12000 miles
To perform Last Rites
Got to see the face
I did see the grimace

He didn't want to Go
We didn't want him Go
I didn't want him Go
(but) We didn't have a Go

He was always adamant
Couldn't know how much
He didn't hear our lament
Oh, what a grinch!