Cried In Open Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal
Cried In Open
Who can miss childhood memory?
Those early days with no means and poverty
All brought me to sense all of sudden
It was driving to the corner even
I remembered father working under sun
How mother was making desperate run!
That all scenes brought tears in my eyes
How helpless I was with their tries!
They were great people with bare necessities
But had courage and aim to match any eventualities
They knew and encouraged all my efforts
I was given everything I wanted in short notice
They were down to earth couple
And knew what meant a real struggle
I was hope for their old age
An illusory wish for many parents of their age
I had seen beautiful dream in their shining eyes
They doubled their efforts to get me new sets
Never letting me to know what they saw in me
I was real stranger seeking shade under tree
I loudly cried in open
With no person to listen
What really I felt in their absence!
It was real love and affection with true essence
Parents. Emmanuel Bandoh6 minutes ago There are good parents, kind and loving; but there are some that are the opposite. The writer was talking in the past; meaning, his or her parents have been gone for some time.
profound Larry Stallings3 minutes ago great work Comment +1
Like 1 hour ago by Freedom Writer | Reply picture of Freedom Writer xA humble beginning x 1 hour ago by Freedom Writer | Reply leafsailors Ghost Love works, I share your tears for the old folks who loved us all, your poems are wonderful, kind poet 1 hour ago by leafsailors Ghost | Reply
humble beginning x 1 hour ago by Freedom Writer | Reply
Dear Sir, the last stanza carried me away! With regrads, Shigufta Uzma, Rourkela Apr 22,2014
So emotionally charged poem and it points a finger to the youth of the day.I love its spirit. P Nasarudheen, Kasargod, Kerala Apr 22,2014
Very touching, Mehta sir! Preeta Chandran, New Delhi Apr 22,2014
Beautiful! Warm regards, Supratik Sen, Hyderabad Apr 22,2014
Very poignant and touching! Thanks for sharing, Mehtaji. Padmaja Iyengar, Secunderabad, AP, India Apr 22,2014
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/18/2024 12:27:57 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Who can miss childhood memory? Those early days with no means and poverty