You were a rock for us,
I saw you as a lifeless rock recently,
Emotions grappled my throat and tears rolled down like a stream,
An embodiment of warm radiant love, sleeping in dry ice.
You used to be sitting by the passenger seat,
When I took you for dialysis in the mornings,
Today you were sitting there too,
Except you were inside a ***,
I had to do the final rites,
Seeing you in ashes and bones,
I realized about mortality and trivial matters,
Reciting for Lord Shiva to ensure you have the proper path above this earthly plane,
You left at 61, you had many more years in you I believe,
But you had fought and struggled long enough,
I hope we have done you justice,
I hope your soul is now at peace,
Flowing smoothly like the river,
The river where we scattered your mortal remains,
I’ll tell Lord Shiva to ensure you have a flowered path where your feet are no longer in pain,
On that path to your eternal rest, where you no longer need a wheelchair.
You were an exceptional wife, mum and woman,
A strong individual for every single day of it,
You have not cooked in a long time but I'd always remember the smell of your dishes,
You were always the one with practical guidance,
A generous heart that was always smiling and entertaining the little ones.
Ammama's siblings attended the wedding,
And they also witnessed a funeral,
‘Padpu’ mama helped tie my veshti for my wedding,
Little would we know he’s gonna’ help me again at a cremation site,
You had a small dinner at the hotel reception,
Ironically, you passed your last breath at the opposite hospital 2 days later,
Emotions choked us all,
And only time can soothe us now,
We can only hope now,
That you will be simmering within peaceful and harmonious moments.
We love you Amma,
One love of my life left as another love of my life came in,
I'm ever grateful for the presence of loved ones around,
I hope you don't have to incur rebirths, but that you remain in eternal rest,
Watching us from above,
With unconditional love.
- In tribute to my late dear mum, Madam Sivaneswary Maruthavanar (25.03.1955 - 12.07.2016)