Mother's Bangles

There they lay, untouched for God-only- knows how long, strung sentimentally in my school red ribbon of yesteryears bringing to my mind innumerable images of childhood -

mother combing my hair every day before I left for school, weaving the bright red ribbon in the hair she so carefully tended to, 

packing my lunch that all envied,

the Iyengar Bakery bread that we walked together to buy twice a week near Austin Town, the ice cream from a  Brigade Road parlour after we purchased my books for the new academic year every year, 

the little girl's kitchen tools from the man with his pushcart on our street in Victoria Layout.

Just how many memories can a string of colourful bangles store?

 I remember Mother being very possessive, wanting the bangles back every time I wore them to match my outfit in my teens. Today, these colourful spheres reach out to me like they always did when Mother was there. A size smaller now, for me, I moist my wrist with soap to wrap the colourful misty memories around, somewhat like my heart that struggles to keep the loving memories from breaking the vault of stored sentiments of a distant past.

Don't you dare!

Picture credit: Aliyah Jamous

For every tear she made you shed

I'll see to it that she is consequentially fed!

For every sob that ruffled you

I shall make her taste venomous dew!

I can be the most submissive woman on earth.

But, when it comes to my loved one I can make you eat dirt from hearth.

Restless nights he has spent.

You too will toss and turn, feel the dent.

Hey! Girl. Don't do to another what you would not want for your own son.

You will be a mother someday. Don't jump the gun.

The Almighty gave him freedom to love, not cry.

Remember, we all have to face the Creator when we die.

Your day will come too.

So, stay away. Or be ready to sip sour burning stew.

Don't be an abuse to the woman race.

Reform yourself. Don't become a disgusting disgrace!

Memories of Mother

Mother, sweet mother of mine.

It is you who have always made me feel fine.

When I lay sick in bed

It was because of you that I was fed.

When I was hurt, lonely and sad,

Then, it was your presence that made me feel less bad.

With my first crush,

my first love,

my first heartache,

It was your support that helped me decide

which path to take.

Homework, Project or Job jeopardy.

That practical logic of yours

gained me insight and victory.

I grabbed all that you gave -

Those hugs, reprimands and smiles

that made me brave.

Mother, I may have been inconsiderate then

Because I was still in your little pen.

Now that I am alone,

My only solace is your voice on the phone!

I nostalgically recollect

All the memories I thought I'd forget.

I know not why you did what you did.

Now, I know because today I am a mother

Then, I was a kid!

Mother, sweet mother of mine.

It IS really you and WILL be you

who has always made me feel fine.

Write A Letter Wednesday

Mother's Letter From Home

My son,

I write just a few words

to warm your heart,

as you get busy with a new life,

in a foreign land

I pray that you rise honestly,

reach your cherished goal,

your dream, your desire,

let it burn like fire,

errors are made, lessons learnt,

worry not about the trails left behind,

just hold on tightly to any inspiration

you can find.

My son,

you have courage within you

I know,

so go ahead and transform

your goals into reality,

stable headed and cool,

you have it within you to rule

over your temporary weaknesses.

What more can I say

my son,

I only aspire to be a tiny ray

that creeps in through your window

every morning,

to wake you up

to work with brightness,

finally, it's only You

who can make his day turn out right,

it's only You who can convert darkness into light,

so rush ahead but steadily my son,

the world awaits....

This poem was published in the magazine, Rashtriya Sahara in the year 1999.

Write A Letter Wednesday

Divine Grace

The Divine Mother

and

Her Blessed Son

born to deliver all

from suffering and delusion.

Their grace descends upon

You, Me and All

even as we mere mortals

squander it for petty gains.

Look again,

Search for the Power

that is never lost,

just lying dormant

in the dusty dungeons

of our mean minds.

Magpie Tales: 45

Without You....

Without you, my child

I do not exist.

Without you,

I am nobody.

I have no identity.

With you,

I am love personified.

Without you, Mother

I have nowhere to go.

I have no haven.

I know no one.

With you

I am safe.

I know myself.

Without You, God

I am lost.

I am clueless about life.

With you,

I am.

I do.

I am life itself.

ABC Wednesday: Alphabet 'W"