Succesful men, I’ve heard,
has a woman, with a helping hand..
But this man here, I now admit,
without three, can’t even stand…
And as always, my mother comes first,
without her, there wouldn’t be me..
Loving and caring, strong and demanding,
the very right mix, as a mother should be…
“to thee I owe, this very life,
at thy very feet, my heaven I see..
To tell you this, I’ve tried and failed,
alas! My love, you may never see…
You gave me all, and I returned nil,
guilty I am, and shall ever be..
Still the past, I wish to undo,
and as u wish, I want to be…”
The next a woman, I wouldn’t call,
‘coz always to me, a kid she’ll be..
Too mature, beyond her age,
but just a kid, she’s always to me…
From the time I remember, she’s been there,
as a friend, a sister and a guide..
She listens to me, in joy and pain,
from her never, I shall anything hide…
To speak of her, in paper and ink..
to fill the sea, with pebble and sand..
To measure the love, in her heart..
Impossible tasks, for a human hand…
Many a times, when I’m safe,
after an attack, of troubles sinister..
I have wondered, beyond wonder,
how men manage, without a sister…
And now the last, but not the least,
I present, the love of my life..
Calm and quite, and beautiful too,
she with her smile, lighted up my life…
She brought with her, to my life,
joy and smile, and all things good..
In sun and rain, and darkest of nights,
in flood and famine, by me she stood…
“dear oh dear!, I speak to you,
you stood by me, and I shall by you..
And this my dear, I pledge to you,
you stood by me, and I shall by you…”
There you go, my confession,
before you all, bare I stand..
This man here, I now admit,
without these three, can’t even stand…