Starting Over

“Oh Look, it started raining mother”, Adriel spoke with sheer happiness. He was convinced that this would put on hold or even better call off their plans to meet Dr. Len, but finding surprises has always been his strong suit.

She did not reply, he called out one more time, but still she did not reply.

He went in to look.

Kaya had been working hard as a mother and a receptionist in an ad agency. Things have been hard and life a little difficult after Josh died. It happened that morning, that dark morning, that’s how she describes it. She loved nature and knew the drill which it’s various associates namely, sun, moon, trees played every year, every season, every month, but after that day, she barely remembered as to why she was so in love with nature, why she ever thought of sun as god’s ultimate gift to earth, and hailed trees that only belong to the soil,  pretending to sacrifice their movement to foster mankind.  May be her doubts were an aftershock or may be she never really understood how rough things are around, outside her small solicited heaven. But she had reasons to believe, to blame and curse nature for it’s role in the misfortune, for she felt cheated, felt unsafe, for she had lost her husband to the dark morning, when the sun was playing, hiding behind clouded shackles, dim, and trees meant to stand, lied proudly on ground, silently as his car hit the trunk on road and rocketed off the hill, the repercussion an aftermath, a tragedy. A man died that night and so did the belief of safe havens. Continue reading

Son to Mother, Happy Mother’s Day

The poem below is dedicated to my mother, she resides in Bhopal, India while I am studying in Gwalior.

 

She is the rhyme of my poetic life, artist who recognized me for good, my eyes to know the unknown. She is an extraordinary women, this is to you “Mummy”.


The divine rhyme of a verse,
an artist’s oculus rigid to the adverse,
the eyes to comprehend the incognizant,
her impressions remain salient every single moment.

The journey that I claimed,
investment she channeled returns
unclaimed,
the love she endowed is visceral,
exclaiming I am, ‘she to me is an exceptional person.

Being away, I miss the reminders, not fond though,
scolding over messed up room, spilled coco,
pecking over the uneaten food gone cold,
and here comes the fast driving, behold!

The fuss you put up with is respectful,
that you care so much drives heart cheerful,
a sociable person with generosity you are,
accorded to you our family relatives stretch far, very far.

“Good bye dear”, you called for me that night,
as I settled in the hostels, for future bright,
tears shedding from your eyes, mine buzzed off too,
as I bid adieu to my home town taking life’s cue.

The life for its most parts is uncertain,
only your being in it is fairly certain,
forgive me, if I fell short to show my love,
the bond we share is not bound to the lines above.