24 avril 2014 / admin / 0 Comments
I know Mum will respect my choice.
The bleu tomb stone would be her choice.
I know Baba will fill the forms.
And burry me as soon it can be done.
I know they will write a pretty couplet,
Bring me flowers and burst in tears.
I know they will come regularly for some days.
Talk as we used to do in old days.
I know my mama will pardon my mistakes.
I know my papa will hold within some tears.
But in murky and sunny days, I will be let alone.
With the whirling winds and graveyard songs.
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11 avril 2014 / admin / 0 Comments
When she was three
Was labeled abnormal.
Unable to feed herself,
Unable to walk,
Unable to give my smiles back.
Disabled, my child.
I cried a lot that time.
Secretly went mad.
But then, there was she,
My lovely offspring.
Unable to express her love to me.
Unable to enjoy her life.
Unable to make friends.
Unable to marry a guy one day.
Along with her wheelchair,
Her mother and I tried.
As hard as we could to make our child survive.
With all of it’s ups and downs,
She’s in late 20s now.
But yesterday, doctors told me
She’s gonna die.
I went to the mosque today,
Like everyday,
And regardless of what people would say,
In His home I cried,
Cause she’s the one I brought up.
My eye’s sight,
My jewel, my reason of life.
For she should not die before my eyes.
And prayed with the depths of my heart,
That she reaps the crop of hurdles she’s been through here.
There she will be able and valid.
Two or three days left to live,
barely enough to say goodbye.
But my child, again, is unable to say goodbye…
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