My mother came back today from the hospital after Laparoscopic Cholecystectomy or removal of gall stones, which she had plenty inside. For last few days she was in the not at home. What I want to share below is my poem that I wrote for her in the Mothers Day last year. The poem also finds a place in my book:-
Riding flippant wings of Time
As I flew three decades back
My world around was engulfed
Into the single-soldier barrack.
Under a general draped in a sari
And a vermillion bindi between brows
With beads of sweat from daily chores
She wipes her face in anchal* free.
This act often rejuvenates
Her sweaty glowing visage
In the slogging sultry summer
And injects love-blended reverence.
Over the growing years-
The bridled bonds has slacked
The general has became a friend
Look! the octopus tires.
Mistake! She deliberately let it loose
The anchor grip in doorstep of youth
Not before steadying the sail
And refurbishing the keel.
"Let the waves thrash you dear
Let your soul burn wrath of fear
But when you will be back to me
Come back as a man.
Baked in sun, whipped by wind
Be the stick of my porous bones
Be back as light of my misty eye
Through your window my world beckons.
When my stones inside will hurt
When dark blood ooze from my orifice
Then be by my side dear
And let me rest in peace."
(*Anchal is one end of an Indian sari, that dangles at the back over the shoulder)
