Ma Ma

Mama.
The world’s most powerful syllables are but two.
And they belong to you.

You
Who brought me into this world
The One
who gave me life.
I was crying but you were singing
in your pain.



Ma, you bring back memories…
Of those days
When you used to stand by the balcony
On rainy evenings
Waiting to see that
Big Boy of yours
With his yellow bag behind
Huffing and puffing
Rushing home
smiling to see you
And run up the stairs,
loosening my tie, throwing the books to one side
As i hit the kitchen, snatching away bits of the caramel cake
amidst your protests
that you made with such affection.






Ma,
I can’t forget those afternoons
Filled with those incredibly convincing tales
You used to narrate
About the adventures of a rolling pumpkin that rolled and rolled,
amidst the din of football cries from the field outside,
the rains pattering against the window,
the sound of the radio belting out classics,
A serial of the Old Fox playing from Transtel
As you put me to sleep.



Even though distances and years have come
In our midst
And I am in a far away country
Sitting in a glass cubicle
Slogging against time to make ends meet
To give my children and my wife a more complete life
Like you tried to give me,




The years of laughter and nostalgia
Are there
Each time I look out my window
And see a face
That smiles down from the clouds.