THIS CLOUD

This cloud reminds me

When I was in my childhood,

Mother said I was young

To know the world,

Sometimes it is playful

Sometimes it is hurtful

Sometimes it is soothing,

Sometimes it is benign,

But many times it is bliss.

Cloud makes us turn to look

At the life’s vision,

Leading to a standard life,

That is amused with time,

For that reason we do well

And we feel tenderness of blessing

When cloud bursts into rain,

And the world rejoice

With all that it holds on surface.

THE CRYING CHILD

Sound sleeping

The toddler does need it,

In early speaking ability,

He only says, “Mother! Come.”

So that in tandem the baby

Wants to sway with love

The passing of the night,

Sleeping with mother’s caring.

Lovely goes his spirit

And hunts for sleeping,

He wants to be with mother,

In the making of myth of love,

That the child does like to be with

The big organized way of mother's sincerity,

The sentiment of life, in mother’s embrace

And everything of beats of life

The speaking of the baby is heading

With joy on the way of love’s train,

Sleeping with mother.

Under the marathon of busy hours

And service work, the mother

Manages for duty and for her rest,

And brings everything in little gust

Of burning sleeve of tiredness,

Since she moves with languished feeling,

The child’s sleeping scope

Gives mother haste

To finish her workload, and

She just tries to find time,

To come with the toddler,

And in the mean time, it is amazed,

The mechanism has been changed,

And the child starts crying.

CHILD’S CHOICE, IGNORED

She returns home with haste

Stops for her little son

And makes him prepare

For the journey,

She has no time to listen

To her child who has

Something good in his mindset,

The child has own choice

For shoes and sweater to wear

In winter, while

He is going out,

And he utters, “Other one”

He is yet to speak in full.

The child cries with bursts,

Holding his choices - shoes

And sweater to wear

In mother’s company,

She had no time to attend

Child’s untold feeling,

And she fakes his choice

Stuffs a mother’s choice,

Jumps into hasty move,

Avoiding crying of child,

And lifts the kid

Like a colored balloon,

In her lap, and the child

Crying profusely,

Still holding his shoes

In one hand and sweater

In other hand, and keeps

Them under his care

Not knowing the secret

Of his mother’s apathy,

And his mother says,

“We are in a hurry,

Time to catch bus is going out.”

The child don’t understand,

What mother is saying about,

Crying profusely, he throws

All he holds in his tiny hands,

Slumped on the hard concrete floor.

LOVE OF A GRANDMOTHER

When mother is away on duty,

When baby son is left at home,

When the world needs caring for the infant,

The grandmother becomes beloved one,

She comes and gives bath to her grandson,

Who then soundly sleeps after bottled milk-feeding.

The caring grandmother stays for several hours,

As if she is like a lesson for loving her grandson,

She loves all - her husband, her son, her daughter-in-law,

She does it all the time, today and tomorrow,

Since she came in the family, and remains as guardian,

Emotionally and profoundly she does her duty.

She does not work for money,

She wants peace in the family,

She likes to love and be loved by all,

Yet she is alone as confusion runs inside,

As if she is the blue sky with gentle trust,

That all members do not understand.

She is like a crown upon family-mirror,

Its image does hold no reflections,

She is like a running figure, none can think about,

Sea wave cannot be measured, she is like that,

She is an ordinary woman, a simple housewife,

She likes to embrace pathos for her loved one.

WHO KNOWS WHO THE FATHER IS?

Everyone comes from a wonder land 
Growing and touching through blue eggs,
A ferment of soft feeling with
Confirmation, generation in the gravity.
When we ask mom about cell division,
The strong sperm that spreads cell creation,
Timely perfect wings to create the nest,
Then comes one gene function in the role 
Of one balanced passage to find a spot
Upon the earth for breathing through 
The airy sailing, lonesome environment.

Who takes great role for birth?
Birth is the highest form of love.

If one asks who is the follower?
Who is the owner of the creation?
Who is fathering for the little one?
Mother can answer for the new creation,
Mother is stressing pain for protection,
Promises of new life, in the land of trees,
And gravitational pull to form the life.

Sounds of the earth, patience of the creation,
Breathing of new one, safe voyage of loving gain,
Mother is a mute performer with no annoyance,
But accreditation to honor love.

SINGLE WOMAN

In silence, she plays her character on the stage,

And begins a pained life that is struggle, 
Self-maintaining, rocking, tearing, burning, whispering, 

May it be lament, to express it as exposure of loneliness,  

That we do not know, we only see her songs, across the board,  

All we lack to see, it is her rejuvenation,

That draws courage and earning livelihood for her.

She changes her life, she shapes toughness for blooming,
Like one who ventures to rise above all roughness, at stage, 

She learns not to surrender to anyone, makes own standing,

She works, morning to night, caring, by her mind and heart, 

Her children, she makes them to bear for simple living,

We do not see her brave living habits, winning over time,

She does not force any one to feel or express sympathy for her.

She wants to be a bird, for flying freely in the sky,

She feels burns, fired by the male partner's ordaining,
While living with husband, who pretends to protect her, 

At this juncture, she decides for living single, and stay alert,

This is the world of freedom, it is an expedition, not to feel unguarded, 

That is her life, in all seasons, and she deserves it,

This constitutes respect for her struggle, she fixes her mind in herself.

The more she prefers to attain a life of significance,

The more she feels to defy the storm moving in rain,
That comes heavily on her way and inflicts disarray, 

She still moves with courage, with deep sigh,  not splitting self, 
Being single woman, living with children, it is her pride, 
She holds her earnest breath to turn her experience for winning, 

She feels greatness to come home, as single woman, and mother of children.