Mother Poem by mohanan viswambharan Nair

At the roadside, a mother is waiting.
Her child is returning from his school.
She doesn't like her child carrying,
heavy school bags while walking uphill,
to where he will surely walk without her leave.

By the window, a mother is standing,
staring too far, through the window.
Her son left her in an orphanage.
Every day in the evening, near the window,
She comes and looks far, expecting her son there

At her son's bed, a mother sits
Her eyes are wet, she gives him medicine,
Pats his head, puts a wet cloth on his temple
Her son is lying down with a fever.
She prays for her son's speedy recovery.

In a cowshed, a son puts his mother on rags.
Her head is splitting with severe aches.
She wishes to get a drop of water to drink.
She crawls towards the cow's drinking vessel.
The cow sets the vessel towards her with its face.

A mother is bathing her son
He is dancing on his right leg
He is spraying her with soap water
Laughing and laughing in his mirth
Mother doesn't beat him, enjoys herself instead.

A son is beating his mother continually
She is crying her head off.
When he kicks her stomach,
She begs him with folded hands,
not to kick her stomach where she bore him.

In a corner of my ancestral home, my mother is sitting.
Touching my head, she feels my rare presence
The world of sound and sight left her early.
As her fingers run in my head, first she asks
whether I ate my breakfast or lunch?

It is a nice query that only a mother can
put anywhere in the world, still, I believe.


Mohanan.V.Nair