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Perhaps from my childhood, it had been my burning desire,
To glance Nirmal Hriday (Pure Heart) - a home I did admire;
At the thought of Kolkotta - Mother's house - my heart did churn,
To be with the destitute and dying my soul did yearn...!

Saint Mother Teresa made this city her loving home,
She sheltered lepers there, and diagnosed their syndrome;  
Cleaned their lacerations, and cured them with rare remedies, 
Above all, she treated them with Jesus-love therapies...!

Infants, thrown in dustbins, found in her, true loving mother,
Young nuns, renouncing their comforts, made services smoother;
Grievous ailments like HIV/AIDS and TB got well treated,
Old, orphans and half-dead, found their pessimism defeated...!

Now, mother gone, her followers, like angels, care render,
Eating meager; sleeping less; show them compassion tender;
In divine contemplation cum action, they well partake,
This mundanely forbidden home, abode of hope they make...!

Wouldn't, spending time in such place, become moment of grace?
Wouldn't, life with such inmates sanctify my inner space? 
Though fun and frolics, like nail and flesh, make good relations,
Won't philanthropy-based tranquility, lay love-foundations...?

Once in lifetime, if not for ever, such would benefit,
Pride and greed and sloth heaped within, would find some sure exit;
Witnessing human sufferings, would make my heart humbler,
Life, thenceforth, I believed, will become, sensibly simpler...!

Filled with such romantic thoughts, toward service I set out,
When none seemed welcoming, I didn't feel any self-doubt; 
The smiles on their faces, yet, spoke to me many volumes,
Their joys and pains, like rock-stars, seemed to change color costumes...!

More than my service, perhaps, my being with them they loved,
In washing, cleansing, bandaging their wounds - my joy doubled;
Feeding, medicating, seeing them whole, I found rebirth,
I felt their pains and joys flowing in my veins with full mirth...!

This grand event of my life, has been happiest ever,
I wished and prayed, this bliss, to come to conclusion never;
When mounting obligations and commitments called me back,
At the thought of leaving them, my heart, did stiffly tick-tack...!

As a wistful migrant bird impulsively re-visit,
The sanctuary that molded him integrally fit,
I am, to that home and people, forever nostalgic,
Failing to visit them frequently, makes me feel homesick...!


12 March 2022
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