Tag Archives: mother and child

The return of unconquerable spirit

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The place is like an estuary vandalized
Where once the peaceful river of life
And the fiery sea of human greed met
In that cartography, between the dreams
Unfolds continents of real-life-miseries
Inside the blue-sheet tent she sits stone-like
With a docile brain, trained to cease thinking
Staring at the young man – fair and tall, who
Stands with his eyes on her pale boney face
Where life remains with its broken ribs
As if in a flash back scenes started playing;

– – – – The thud of thundering missiles
– – – – She hugs the 7 year old boy to her bosom
– – – – Covering him with her body
– – – – The walls and roof collapse
– – – – From under the debris she struggles
– – – – Somehow reaches the open
– – – – Some people come, pat the dust off them
– – – – Days without eating, under the sun and moon
– – – – A truck load of them get transported to the border
– – – – She hands the boy to her sister and yell “go and live”
– – – – She turned to her man, groaning , wounded
– – – – The boy struggled to reach her but the soldier pushes

The scenes end and the boy yells “Maaaaaa”
A glint of life crossed her face – “Ma”
She looked at the skeletal form sitting near her
They were yoked on a same electric pulse
Yore in the west, through the low opening of the tent
The sun radiated a golden smile
Now even the death is welcome
And she smiled, the father too
After the unflinching wait of so long years
The unconquerable spirit smiled in them



A Dream For My Unborn Child

Many a times I’ve thought of you
O fabric of my dreams, my unborn child.
Let not constant abrasion make your texture tattered and torn
And fade the vibrant color of your lips.

Let not the scorching glare of reality
Wake your dreamy, azure eyes with a psychotic stare.
Look not now, at the dark night and deep blue sky
Where endless battles clash with crackling, forbidden sounds.
Where nocturnal creatures cry out with prolonged pain.

Every night, I look out at the legend and mystery of the dark sky
In the cool breeze and dampness of shadows,
When the droplets of the stars glisten my hair,
I think of you, clutching my chest in hunger and surrender.
I think of you, wafting with me into pleasing flights of fancy.
Around us, an embalming shade, a magic cloak
Cocoons you inside me in blissful warmth.

Soon the battles will be over
For us to share endless starry nights,
Walking all through the moonlit way
To the solitude of the galaxies,
Along with you, wrapped in smells of nectar
I will sail on harbors with dusky breeze,
Let you behold the silver streams, the boats and the surf,
When serenities and magic will unfold on our way.

Your tiny, angelic fingers clasping my own,
Hand in hand, we both will sure make our way.
Sail our way amidst wind and soft embrace,
And wake up to an earth
Where children play delightful symphonies
Where raindrops kiss all parched mothers and hapless kids
Humming a tune of love’s little quiescence.

( Footnote: This poem is immensely personal. It was written for my first child when I was 27 weeks pregnant, a tiny delight tucked inside my tummy. With this poem and with all my scattered thoughts about her, I had dreamed about sheltering her from this world of battered souls, daydreaming of some day, when after having her in my arms, I could fulfill both of our lives with the serenity and magic of love.)

Life Ahead


Child of delight

In this coarse life amidst stone, sand and soil,

I behold the softness of your misty sleep.

You float on the dreams of a silvery stream in Wonderland,

I kiss the beauty of your liquid sounds, your lifting smiles.

In whispers and living lullabies, I drink your life,

Carry your warm breath, fragrance and melodies

Show your tranquil light.


Mother of Darkness, Mother in Gorging Flames

Within you, I seek no flame of rebellion, no reformation;

I’ve walked my life on tattered soil and blackened streets,

Crumbling, decaying and scattered in dust.

Grinding and groaning in the curling smoke of memory,

I’ve sensed the skeleton of your growth,

Floating around quivering shadows of dirt and lies.

A petal bloom in glory, lust and greed of shivering nights

My heart pumps blood for you to wrap you around me,

To grow inside me, cold, parched, starving orphan.

I’ve held you in the wintry chill of thousand midnights

Waiting for a thousand splendid sunshines.

In whispered worlds of crimson blood, gore, sobs and sighs,

I seek the scarlet bliss of your blood,

A flickering flame of your shrieks awakens me.


Innocence Screams, Pain Dances in a Hungry Earth

A wispy wind uttering secrets at night,

Soft murmurs hovering over a silent earth,

Howling voices of haunted longings and despair,

Scars deep in the soul, muttering and whispering

Rumors and pain.

The red rose wounds of battered infants dying

And living, breathing pain on streets of cold….

I stand alone among heaps of discarded dirt,

In a wasteland of screaming silence and barren shadows

And listen to the lullabies of a soft baby skin,

Straining through the solemn frost of a stony earth,

I follow the voice of an angel carrying divine autumn whispers;

Crossing lonely, dark streets, a sob breaks from my chest

To see a fallen tear, the want of an embrace,

The warmth of tiny fingers in soft caresses

Crushed in brittle dust.


Life Ahead: Calling the Golden Girl, Calling the Hapless Kid

Blessed be the breast that cuddles, milks and aches,

Blessed be the darkness of empty chests and frozen pain.

Blessed be the crimson blood of the cherubic babe

Seizing its way through dark corners of the heaving womb.

Blessed be the smile of the little boy that dances in the rain

In rasping joys, in the city streets of scarlet pain.

Blessed be the flickering flames of innocent lives

Crushed and battered by bullets under azure skies.

Mothers giving nectar and tender beds of care

Mothers giving the softest music and rhythm of life

To sleepy eyes, fragile bodies and rosy red cheeks

Dissolve in shadowed rooms in a stormy deluge.

In a different deluge, endless mothers breathe and live

In streets of cold, with cracked lips and despaired tears.

Blessed be their feet that walk through sand and freezing ice.

The life that lies ahead in a soiree of blossoms for the golden girl,

Calls out the hapless kids hidden in dust and tears.

Calls out in hunger, eagerness and pain.

Footnote: I dedicate this poem to all mothers and babies of the world, to unwanted motherhood, to starved orphans and to the throbbing life that resurrects in our Mother Earth amidst the suffocating agony of hunger, decay and the debilitating pain of humanity.