Nishat Wasim
The world shifts on its axis
when it dawns on you
that your parents
are not the font of knowledge and wisdom
the epitome of perfection
not gods,
but imperfect, fallible human beings
with dreams and desires
a life beyond parenthood.
The aftershocks stun
the tremors reverberating a long while
the blind trust shattered.
Though this is replaced
by a maturer, adult understanding
the child in me mourns the loss.
