Well my son, you have reached the highest point in your life
For you resonate with enough wisdom to be accepted as a deliverer
Of such advice to the generations that will follow you
Although, for the life of me, I cannot bring about any reason as to why you care
So much for this fruitless, testifying, middle stumping life
Thus I call to you, my son, Preethi upon this stairway to heaven
Well father, I have in fact reached the highest point in my life
One which I will cherish with passion and tears and blood and sweat
A life of many hardships, many loose screws and rocks on a pokey stick
Yet it is, in the end, one worth being born into
One with not too much tradition nor too much modern hysteria
Thus I cry for you, father, for the milk I am being fed is not yet pure
Oh, my dear son, you have seasoned the time offered by family,
friends and accomplices that showed you the way of life
though too common and driven by knaves to be taken freely
for the long run. Oh, the Betrayal! Why must you not keep trust on these snipes
but for your own sport and profit?
Thus I hug you, my son, let not that creeping sickle’s compass come and put you to bed
Oh, my dear father, my life thus far has been upsetting
For the Triumph and Disaster you so call imposters are nothing
but blurry scribbles on paper, though you conceal the latter behind that smile of yours
Yet this life is one worth fighting for
One that you worked hard with every last drop of your heart and nerve and sinew
Thus I salute you, father, for the tales and virtues you pour into me shall not go to waste
Dear son, you have just passed the milestone considered gold in our time
Though I were to risk all my winning on one turn of pitch-and-toss
You are not yet plumed up to shed light on my suffering
which I hide under my mask you call “Father”
But one which I must tell before my unforgiving minute is to tick
Thus I pray to you, my son, may you take these words into the deepest peak of your heart
Dear father, I have now fathered children of grown silliness and absurdity
Just as you did for me and my brothers when we played the fool
I now walk with Kings, but keep the common touch as you told me
Yet this life is one worth holding on to
One that holds the one true road to happiness too good to let go
Thus I ignore you, father, for I shall please the devils for a few more minutes to come
My son, you have just been born into this unforgiving world
One that will change you as tradition and modern technology advance
Oh how I wish to make you return back to whatever dream you came out of
For this world will not be one for a sore loser in dependence with every second
So prove to me that you are in fact capable of reaching your highest point
Thus I kiss you goodnight, my son, may the milk be in cotton white guide you
Father, I have yet again reached the highest point in my life
As you may put it, I have become a Man
When I trusted myself when all men doubted too
Yet this life is one worth letting go
As I passed on your teaching to them in hope of the Earth one day being theirs
Thus I come for you, father, for the stairway to heaven is well within my grasp and sight