Neha Misra


Neha Misra is a Research scholar in Department of English in University of Lucknow, she writes both in Hindi and English


I remember
Mumma wiping her sweat
With the undying edges
of her tattered saree.
Her smile never fading
amidst those
Never quenched tears.
The tars of her sorrow
Peeping still
From behind the cracked doors of
excruciating memories.
I remember
Mumma cooking
as much as she could
To make the kids happy
From hardly available ingredients.
I remember
Her sleepless toils
With thoughts of
fetching some money
To get our school bills done.
I remember her anxiety
At the shrinking size of our dresses
With our growing limbs
And our constant jabbing
To get fresh pairs of shoes
In the beginning of
each new school session.
I remember those fairy tales
She entertained us with
Each night
Not showing us the least vision
Of the fiend of reality.
I remember
Everything mumma
It's just
I can't bring your years back
And fill them with the golden hue
You sacrificed
For our sake.
All I can do now
Is a pledge untold –
I'll keep you
In the center of my soul
And never let you look down
With my deeds done and undone….
With all my love
I widen my arms
To give you
All the pleasures
And be there in your thick and thins
To make you feel
You are still young mumma!!!!


If I were u
and u were me
u would have known
how much u kept me waiting
in the vastness of
prolonged loneliness.
U would have seen
the games
darkness played with me.
U would have heard
the silences
my eyes kept safe.
U would have noticed
the immensities of love
I reserved for u.
and u would have been then
face-to-face with
the realities I saw
in the absence of u!
And yet I know
still the dream beholds me
and still I wait
for u
with dusks so warm
and dawns so intense.


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