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SHE....


That was her favourite spot.

She was just beginning to grow.

A blossom, waiting to unfurl.

A flower sans fragrance.

But nevertheless

Beautiful, cheerful.

Death cast its horrible hands ;

Robbed her of life.

A life that was yet to start..

She left behind

A trail of tears, sorrow.

And a mother mourning

Over her only “special” child.

P.S. : Influenced from a real life incident. Dedicated to the victims of congenital fatal diseases.

Comments

Scribbling Girl said…
The mystery of live and death nobody cd unravel...just wish there was not so many wails left for ppl who loved...but then there wdnt be love....May God bless everyone and their dears!
Me-Era* said…
Ahh..bahut acha. :)
Ria said…
Yes its very painful for the mothers who lose their child. Beautiful dedication.
Priya Joyce said…
something very touching to write abt!
rainboy said…
painful but very true for some.

nice one dear..

take care :)
Avi said…
Beautiful....
Which is more ? The pain on the death of a 'special' child OR the pain the mother has to endure to raise the child ?
Thousif Raza said…
ah... the pain... nice one mehek....

take care and keep writing.............
suruchi said…
Hi Anwesa...
This is so tragic n touching!
Ah!
Tulika said…
*deeply moving*

A quiet air over me after reading it.

You have put it capturing all emotions..!
ABHISHEK SiM said…
It kills me when I try to imagine what a mother would feel like...

truly said: "our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thoughts"
A S said…
hi

very touching
ANWESA said…
@Scribbling girl,
Amen !
ANWESA said…
@Meera,
Thanks !
ANWESA said…
@Ria,
Thanks dear !
ANWESA said…
@Lil' Priya,
Thanks dear !
ANWESA said…
@Rainboy,
Thanks !
ANWESA said…
@Avi,
I guess the pain of the mother who loved her child...
ANWESA said…
@Thousif,
Thanks !
ANWESA said…
@Suruchi,
Yes,thanks for reading it !
ANWESA said…
@Tulika,

:)

*a silent gaze*
ANWESA said…
@Simu,
Precisely.
ANWESA said…
@Ashish,
Yes,it is.

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I CANNOT REMEMBER MY MOTHER ~ Rabindranath Tagore

I cannot remember my mother,
only sometime in the midst of my play
a tune seems to hover over my playthings,
the tune of some song that she used to
hum while rocking my cradle.


I cannot remember my mother
but when in the early autumn morning
the smell of the shiuli flowers floats in the air,
the scent of the morning service in the
temple comes to me as the scent of my mother.


I cannot remember my mother
only when from bedroom window
I send my eyes into the blue of the distant sky,
I feel that the stillness of my mother's gaze on my face
has spread all over the sky.

~Rabindranath Tagore
Note : This was one of  the earliest poems I read,loved and cherished.

WAITING FOR YOU

Concealed by dark clouds
You keep shining.
Bright streaks of light
Dazzle me.
Enchant me.
And keep me waiting..
Waiting for you.

Amidst Soul-lessness

There is smoke somewhere. 
I cannot seem to figure out where. 
The lights are here, the music is here.
Has it been home here ?
Perhaps. Maybe when it did not rain.
Or maybe when it rained and it did not matter.
Maybe when I walked alone, smiling to myself. 
Or maybe when I realized I was okay.
Had it been always like this ?

Not really. 
Things clicked, took effort and blood. 
Did I do it ? Or the beasts did ? Maybe we both together,
Played this game. 
Amidst soulful solitude, it was love. 
Maybe appreciation.
Another journey, another dry spell. 
Will it ever be home again ? 

P.S. : Penned at Candies, Bandra on 11th January 2017