The Universal Mother Poem by DEVENDER SINGH

She is a woman and an aunty,
Living a simple, but tough life.
Owning a house is no guarantee
But she is a very much housewife.

Charming face is not her concern
As laughing keeps it evergreen.
Old face may be wrinkled one,
But in her house she is a queen.

She is in old age and old ways,
Defeating technology with tradition.
A role here, science never plays,
Yet she removes every obstruction.

She is about to finish her seventies,
But hardly needs help of pathology.
Her character is so full of expertise
That she adds definitions to biology.

Thick chapattis and yellow curry
Are kept on earth in open kitchen.
If the food is heavy, don’t worry.
Her cookery guarantees digestion.

Her unlidded cauldron invites all.
Come my dears and have a bite.
Do not let your brotherhood fall,
Or you will lose your might.

The kitchen in open shows her wish
All would assemble to eat together.
If she is offering a common dish,
How can she be only my mother?