I still remember you standing at the door of the hall,
School’s poem recitation competition and I was at stall.
My two lined poem, a fun stock for others,
With tears in my eyes I climbed down the ladders…
It was you my mom, who held me close…
My failure never mattered with your love dose.
I saw you leaving the last apple for me,
And never thanked you for waiting in the balcony.
How many times…you missed buying a saree,
Because my dress needed a little more spree.
You sat with books, for nights together,
To make me the best known scholar ever.
I know you cried... your pillow still damp,
But never forgo being my lamp.
I never apologized, after any little row,
Still you were there with dinner at my door.
I never understood, what keeps you so kind,
Never did revenge ever cross your mind?
I continue to be the same blatant daughter,
Where you remain same, my loving mother.
Your mealtime stories, your soft little lullaby,
All went in vain, do I remember any?
Don’t worry mom, they are all in my heart,
And I promise to dispense them, down the path.