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Fading Memories

What is with this smile Mamma ? 
It follows me everywhere, in good times
And in pain.
During journeys and at nights I rest.
Remember how you read me my
Nursery rhymes and the alphabet Mamma ?
Remember how you waited for me
To arrive from school ? Our banters
And the laughter that followed.
Look ! My library is bigger now,
Almost as large as that of yours.
Yet, I long to hear a lullaby from you.
Sing to me Mamma ! Just like
You did ages ago.
Don’t walk away like that Mamma !
See, I am your little girl in tears.
You taught me how to fight my battles
But weren’t you my shield ?
I am you girl, grey and portly,
But I still need to hear my lullaby.  


Jyoti Mehta said…
Fabulous as usual, keep it up!!

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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.


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