Penned down

A mother is the loveliest creation of God. Here are the thoughts of the soil.. which plays mother to the tiny seed of the oak. The oak that grows on to be strong and confident, yet holding on to its mother in all times. A different mother You were so tiny, when you fell into my lap. As though by instinct, I knew you were for me. For me to nurture, for me to endure all the pain. To make you what fate had held ahead for thee. My oak you grew, I cried when your deep roots Dug into me - Painful it was, but I waited. No one could hear my yell with joy, When your first delicate green leaves opened You stood alone - and fought your way up. And I rejoiced, like your biological mother. All my friends around chided me as a fool - They were free and happy - why did I bother? All until the Land of Gods started pouring. I tried holding on to my friends in vain. They were washed away.. They were helpless While faithfully my child held on to me..

My mysteries are simple things of the world, I am amazed at the colours of the blue sky above. The Sun losing a crimson war with the moon- They are bonded for aeons by undefined love. Every small thing in my lonely world amazes me A child in my mind I am; I shall always be. It is in school that I meet all my friends, Every day is spent learning simple yet new things. Our teachers treat us with such love and care. All the questions that are seeded in my mind, To answer each of them, my teachers are there. I try to ask, but the right words I can’t find. I know God created me for a special purpose For Parents: I am their forever special child. Then why does the outer world call me challenged? When all that is challenged is their attitude, Towards People different from them.

What I earned in life So many years have whizzed past me- And since long, the door bell gone silent! Loneliness that tires me more than work, Nothing to do, recollecting time spent. Those happy faces, those youthful times, Not a moment of fretting and whining. When we never saw the dark grey clouds- Amongst the bounty of silver lining. Times that we learned more outside, The four walls, than in the confined class, Still those dreary boring rooms seem lovely. Each time that we recollect days past. The random thoughts that come to my mind, The joy and happiness of my youthful days - Alleviates the pain of stinging solitude Which I have earned in many ways. I left my parents for the land of bounty Alone they waited - i took the path oft tread. In their predicament I find myself now.. For alone, I lie awake on my death bed. P.s. If you find the flow of the poem random – from happy to sad, then that is what I intended J. What is attempted is to capture the way the old man regresses to his c...