
For more such stories visit my channel: http://www.youtube.com/c/SoniaVashishtaOberoiPoemsandStories
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For more such stories visit my channel: http://www.youtube.com/c/SoniaVashishtaOberoiPoemsandStories
To enjoy with sound and effects pls visit: https://youtu.be/5j7TFJeDB0M
Times are rough
It’s kind of tough
We all need a bit of
spirituality to survive,
to keep our mojo alive
and to sail through this difficult time
Its sad that the scenario is the same this year.
Eliot was much impressed with the Hindu Upnishads. He ended this poem with
“Shantih, Shantih Shantih!
When the Wrong happens to THEM
WE are not bothered
WE don’t react
WE think
WE are safe
Well . . .
It’s ok
WE are not one of THEM
but WE forget . . .
The Wrong spreads its fatal wings too fast
Its mammoth clutches are too cruel and gigantic
and WE nurture the Wrong with our deliberate apathy
And very soon it forgets to differentiate between
WE and THEM
Moreover, when hooliganism spills on the roads
none remains untouched
WE or THEM
doesn’t matter
it affects all of us
WE or THEM
doesn’t matter
All have to face the consequences
WE or THEM
doesn’t matter
In fact, WE don’t know
for whom the bell tolls
what will be the Wrong’s next whim
what will be his next fancy
And
WHO will be his next victim
WE or THEM
doesn’t matter
because
strange are the ways of the Wrong . . .
Never underestimate
the plain Janes
Some of them are miraculous
Others are meticulous.
But for sure,
they are not ridiculous
And all of them are real,
not fake even an inch
Some of them are real and raw
like the unpolished diamonds
But diamonds are diamonds
Solid, Real and Intriguing
and others are pristine and true
like dark woods or
unfathomable seas
Deep, awesome and curious.
But for sure,
they are not phony,
no, not even an inch.
So,
don’t misunderstand the plain Janes.
A Mother Never Dies
She only leaves the mortal body
to go to the heavenly abode
She only shifts from here to there
But it is true that a mother never dies …
You have seen the pyre
You have felt the numb coldness
You have done the rituals
You have heard the puraan
But it is true that a mother never dies …
Because the next day you wake up
You go to her room as all the other days
You see the empty bed, then you look at her photo on the wall
Her smile in the photo makes you smile
As it is true that a mother never dies …
Because after a few days while cleaning a shelf
You find a letter she wrote much ago to ask “Are you fine?”
You mumbles gently, “Ya, I am doing fine”
You heave a deep sigh, clutches the letter tight and smile
As it is true that a mother never dies …
Because after a few months while rummaging an old drawer
You find the red bangles she gave you on your first Karvachauth
You sit there for a while caressing those memories in your hand
You wear those bangles once again and smile
As it is true that a mother never dies …
Because after a few years while resetting an old cupboard
You find your first silk saree that she bought for you
You admire that saree once again and wrap it around you
You get lost in the memory lane and smile
As it is true that a mother never dies …
Because after a few decades while visiting your daughter’s house
Your daughter looks at you lovingly
Hugs you tightly and whispers in your ears
“Mamma, you resemble grandmaa so much!”
Her words make you smile
As it is true a mother never dies …
Moreover …
Many times when life becomes tough
And treats you rough
You can’t take it anymore and cry
Sad and shattered, you look at the night sky
A star shines on you, and twinkles a lil more
In those moments you are sure
That it is true …
A mother never dies …
P.S. – For all who lost their mother.
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