*
It was a complete mess.
Loads and loads of things,
From soiled hosiery to paper cups
From books to each piece of clothing I ever had
Were thrown everywhere around in the room.
The whole place looked robbed.
Cleaning the room and keeping things in order
Was never my responsibility.
It was hers.
She would nag about it all the time.
She would ask
What I’d do without her.
This was the one question I never wanted to know the answer.
May be that was why,
I was reluctant to clean the place.
Deep down, I believed,
If I waited long enough,
She would figure I could not manage without her
And she would come back
And clean up the mess.
But weeks had gone,
I still had no clue about her whereabouts.
Why would she do that to me?
I was the love of her life.
“Enough is enough.
I am going to clean this mess.
I don’t need her.”
Enraged, I decided to start with books.
Books were the second best thing in my life.
They’d keep my company always.
Then I saw the book, which she bought me
When we moved to the countryside.
As I picked that book,
A small turquoise-y peacock feather fell.
The falling feather brought to me
A series of memories-
A mix of sad and happy moments with her.
After we moved here, we went to a park
In hope, it would cheer me up.
And it did cheer me up.
We played, we laughed.
At a distance, there was a peacock,
Boasting its colourful feathers.
I’d never seen a peacock before.
Amazed, I found a feather it had left behind.
Which I insisted to keep.
She placed it in the book
We just bought.
I still tremble sometimes,
When sights of my drunkard father beating her cross my mind.
He would abuse her and do sick things to her,
Still she would say he was my father
And I ought to respect him.
How could I?
And one time, he beat me.
He beat me with a belt
Because she bought a ‘stupid’ book for me
Instead of a bottle of bear.
That was the last time
I’d seen him.
She decided we would move away
Without any second thoughts.
“You’re meant for great things.”
She would always say.
She did odd jobs,
Tailoring, waitressing, private tutoring,
So that we could manage my school bills, rent
And square meals a day,
Probably ignoring health and physical wellness.
She sacrificed everything for me.
When she’d me, she left her job to look after me.
After we moved here,
Things were supposedly normal.
But she was going great troubles
To make ends meet,
With a smile on her face, she kept going.
At that instant, I knew she would never leave me.
She was still watching me,
Probably telling the stars
About her 'childish' son.
“I will make you proud.”
I promised to my Mom, my hero.
… And I am still trying.
*
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 5:43 AM UTC
*
It was a complete mess.
Loads and loads of things,
From soiled hosiery to paper cups
From books to each piece of clothing I ever had
Were thrown everywhere around in the room.
The whole place looked robbed.
Cleaning the room and keeping things in order
Was never my responsibility.
It was hers.
She would nag about it all the time.
She would ask
What I’d do without her.
This was the one question I never wanted to know the answer.
May be that was why,
I was reluctant to clean the place.
Deep down, I believed,
If I waited long enough,
She would figure I could not manage without her
And she would come back
And clean up the mess.
But weeks had gone,
I still had no clue about her whereabouts.
Why would she do that to me?
I was the love of her life.
“Enough is enough.
I am going to clean this mess.
I don’t need her.”
Enraged, I decided to start with books.
Books were the second best thing in my life.
They’d keep my company always.
Then I saw the book, which she bought me
When we moved to the countryside.
As I picked that book,
A small turquoise-y peacock feather fell.
The falling feather brought to me
A series of memories-
A mix of sad and happy moments with her.
After we moved here, we went to a park
In hope, it would cheer me up.
And it did cheer me up.
We played, we laughed.
At a distance, there was a peacock,
Boasting its colourful feathers.
I’d never seen a peacock before.
Amazed, I found a feather it had left behind.
Which I insisted to keep.
She placed it in the book
We just bought.
I still tremble sometimes,
When sights of my drunkard father beating her cross my mind.
He would abuse her and do sick things to her,
Still she would say he was my father
And I ought to respect him.
How could I?
And one time, he beat me.
He beat me with a belt
Because she bought a ‘stupid’ book for me
Instead of a bottle of bear.
That was the last time
I’d seen him.
She decided we would move away
Without any second thoughts.
“You’re meant for great things.”
She would always say.
She did odd jobs,
Tailoring, waitressing, private tutoring,
So that we could manage my school bills, rent
And square meals a day,
Probably ignoring health and physical wellness.
She sacrificed everything for me.
When she’d me, she left her job to look after me.
After we moved here,
Things were supposedly normal.
But she was going great troubles
To make ends meet,
With a smile on her face, she kept going.
At that instant, I knew she would never leave me.
She was still watching me,
Probably telling the stars
About her 'childish' son.
“I will make you proud.”
I promised to my Mom, my hero.
… And I am still trying.
*
