I waited all night
Tracing the path of the light.
The glow never once failed
And the rinsed clouds hailed.
As an afterthought,
Recollecting the ideas I bought
I looked through lover’s eyes;
The darkness in black did not lie….
He stirred the night into a silver bowl
And washed me deep down the soul;
Feeling the momentary pleasure unwind
I raised my hands to bind,
Conveying the message of a lifetime,
Renewing the promise on full moon night, every time.
In the waking dreams
And the sleeping dreams
I’m torn between
Imagination and aspiration.
Did I realise life
In living dreams
And ghosts of past glorious dreams?
Am left wondering
If life treated me
Or I treated life
In recalling dreams
And cherishing moments of dreams!
I walk with my life
Accepting flavours of life
And I’m living with dreams
Waking to infinite dreams….
To My Mother
(Published in Me, My Friend, 2009, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar)
How I wish I could speak to you mom
It is a phone call from you that has now become a desire
No words to say, no words to convey
My love for you mom.
Life in hostel with friends around
Keeps me going
But the beautiful time we shared together
Discussing sweet nothings
I miss the most
And even more I miss you mom.
The Sundays when the phone rings
I run to the reception desperately hoping it is you
My heart leaps out to say all those small things
That then seem very important
But when I hold the receiver I forget everything mom.
A word with you is now like a dream come true
How to tell you it is your word that makes my week
And then I start asking
Why did I have to grow up to be your big girl mom?
Hmm, all said and done
Nothing will change right now
But how I wish I could speak to you mom
For I am still your little girl at heart when it comes to you
And I just want to say I love you, mom.
What does little birdie say
In her nest at peep of day?
Let me fly, says little birdie,
Mother, let me fly away.
Birdie, rest a little longer,
Till the little wings are stronger,
So she rests a little longer,
Then she flies away.
The famous lines from Alfred Lord Tennyson, written ages ago, taught and is still being taught, have remained ingrained in my mind.
My school long forgotten, and we classmates awaiting our little birdies’ flights, still enjoy reciting this poem.
As I clicked the picture of a nest with little birdies in my garden, I look at the mother bird struggling to keep her calm.
The hummingbird that appears ageless, in her tiny body, blue sheen, and beak sharpened to perfection, fluttering, I wonder how much we struggle to look young. At the same time, life has been a sweet struggle when we take the role of providers to our children. Probably, all in the hope of living up to their expectations!
And then comes the day, when they find their way into the bigger world of dreams and aspirations. The excitement to take on an independent life makes them camouflage their love, and it transpires into achieving a living.
Apparently, most mothers, in spite of their busy schedules and work, find it hard to deal with this parting. Gradually, their love transcribe to loving selflessly. And then they learn to live with the day.
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