Maa…

Maa..

Your hearty laugh on my naughty jokes,
holding my hand when i stumble,
Giving me a pat when i fumble,
Your stream of tears when i cry.

It is a dream that i had dreamt of.
And still i yearn for.
Sometimes i cry silently
sometimes, laugh at my meek fantasies.

Do u also feel the child in me that u never cuddled?

See, today i had purchased the tinsels of silver
that you loved to bedeck your dupatta with.
Your big smile i have tucked inside the piggy bank with
A heap of undelivered letters, some inscribed paintings.

Do u ever feel the pain i go through?

Tell me you are somewhere watching me,
silently kissing my tears away.
See! How lonely i feel in the throng of worries.
See! How petrified i am in the war of hatred?

Did they ever say to you about me maa?

Can you rewind the time to pass me a happy moment?
So that i live with it even my death.
Can you call me back and heal the scars in me?
Calmly, i will surrender to death then.

Where can i show you my bleeding soul?

Maa, my heart can stop beating and be happy
How can i, but, soothe my wailing soul!
I will let it fly deep down somewhere to hide
But how can it get the respite from its wounds?

Do you feel the injured soul within my wounded body?

Shah Bisma Manzoor, from Jammu and Kashmir, India, has done masters in English Literature and works as Vice Principal at a higher secondary.

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