She stares at my eyes’s
Smudged kohl
A few months old’s
Unseen dreams and hopes
Unconditional yearning and efforts
And herself.
On the book rack it rests
Over layers of un-dead moments
Framed image
Living memoirs
Some words, lines, ideas
Some laughters some cries
Some love some anger.
Sarees jewelleries
Paan box chappals
Bed and cupboard
All past perfect
Her cough no more makes me shiver
Nor the anxiety of departure
Shakes my inertia.
Never I cared for
Her fear and faith
Her laughter and pain
Neither I know how bright or black
Is her present state.
In the whispering dark
We visit the past
Laugh and sing
That echoes through my world
The silent music of emptiness
The rhythm of her breathing
Pat my despair my wound to sleep
Her absence holds me tight
I wait for my mother till next late night
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© ® Rashmi Mohapatra
