In the many unanswered questions of “why me”,
A mother who lost her son to time factor,
Left alone to fend for herself,
Couldn’t still hold herself responsible
For the miss calculations of life and dependence.
Expectations turn painful
While fear takes away the confidence;
Why blame anyone
She says, ” that’s my karma”
And her pain eases.
As she lies down to sleep,
All I could hear was a soft snore.
Copyright(c) 2016, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
Stood below a banyan tree in the vicinity
On a cloudy night where lightning flickered
I envisaged the lighting across the street
Adorned to welcome the festival of light
And the wail of the newborn shrilled the air.
The roots set to bond deep
Through tap roots and prop roots
Offering to nourish and nurture
Nature leads and instincts act
And a mother is born.
Copyright© 2015 Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
Petals shed from the vase
Layer of bright and grey.
Fresh jasmine garlands on the deity
Perfumed the pale and stale.
A whiff of hot coffee lingered in the air.
“So what?”
Said the bored youngster.
But,
Fragrance or aroma?
Stagnancy or permanency?
The wind changed direction.
Copyright© 2015 Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
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