Mama on her birthday

 It was never easy.

Mama asked me everytime,

When things got twisted to utter simplicity,

Mama asked me this:

"How would you like your eggs for dinner?"

Sometimes Mama just sat there,

Watching T.V. in desolate evenings

Or singing songs from her diary

Where she wrote down her favourite lyrics-

Mama asked me through her songs,

Through moonlight glistening from

Her voice, amidst utter darkness in my brain

She asked: "What would you do without me?"

Sometimes I'd weep. Sometimes

I just looked outside as the dark streets

Still reflected the moon on their own right.

I looked at the woman who had raised me

As I am now, and I listened carefully to

The deception in her voice against herself.

Years have simply made her wise

Who can think of my defeat

As if nothing lasts.