My mother

Mumma!

Probably the first word I ever uttered

What a lovely expression it is Ma!

How can I deny the fact that my existence

would have been sheer mud without Your touch.

Mummy, You influence me in various ways

To mention a few,

I owe my cooking skills from your hand note recipe,

That you wrote fearing I would starve.

I owe my ability to stand by adverse times,

As I have seen you adapting to situations while I grew up.

Being a cleanliness freak, respectful to elders, modest to rest

They seem to be minute things in daily life

Yet, they make me the person I am Today!

I cannot forget the struggles you have gone through to raise me,

Just as the minute details you paid towards getting me accessories for my saree.

I love the way you carry yourself in various roles you portray in life.

However, I feel the bond between us is somewhat hollow,

As I fail to open myself to you,

For I believe I cannot be rational with you.

Oh! How dumb was I to understand that,

Rationality is not meant to be adored by Mothers,

Whom else would the world resort for care and solace if Mothers turned rational?