My Mother

Like secret water hidden inside the stone love of my mother flows unconditionally with life at stake for her depth and unbridgeable width I need not go to any sea in search of my existence. A knock at the soft corner of her heart and she hands with care plentitude of bliss and brimming affection. with colours of unknown flowers these divine elements lie folded in my hands with many-spendoured features of life. As I feel them, they speak to me gently in the nectar-filled voices of the deciphered scripts, unknown alphabets. Unfolding before me like rare flowers the loose hanging end of her saree carries the essence of a thousand hopes, and flows in me like a subterranean river. On her tender face hangs a vast canvas of mercy; over whelms me with its magic spell of smiles, from a stiring of promising words like a chorale in some symphony or a wet water course in a desert. Yes, her cherished hands always reveal a wandering, an extending far and wide a flow of confidence that bursts with scent of progress every moment. Like an invincible bird like a heap of vivid flower Like a sea that never overflows her magnanimity heart seems like a boundless sky itself. Her infinite faith on god overhead and herself, is that experience creating new worlds for me .