An Elegy For a New Born

In the world of all comforts, In the world of absolute care and affection, In the world of motherhood. Ten months I was basking, in my mother's womb. Happiness running down my spine – I thanked God, His blessing in disguise, rather he in disguise – My mother, Who is she? How she will be? - I don't know, Am I her replica? Am I her miniature? I struggled day after day to open my eyes. To look at her dazzling beauty and to admire her. Her hands were made to carry me, Her arms were made to hug me, Her shoulders were made to bear me, My mother, the only person on this whole earth to love me more than I do myself. I longed to see her face, Why this ten months vigil? Why not now? My heart bumped! Days rolled and months passed. I kicked my way. A pat on my back, I cried, it was tears of happiness. Where is my mother? Place me on her hands, let me sense her breath, Let that be the first air I breathe. With great joy oozing out I slowly opened my eyes. To see her eyes which is longing to see my eyes. Mom! With great excitement I gazed. But it was the blue sky that welcomed me to this new world. Where is my mother? Where is she? Is she not carrying me? I searched for her. Then where am I placed? I looked around. The cradle squeaked. Sudden fracas and turbulence hit my ears. In a fraction of a second I was surrounded by people. Nobody like me and nobody liked me. I moved from one hand to another. But I never smelt my mother. My mom was missing. Did she leave me? I was in a fix. Yes, she left me. What made her to hate me even before I was born? She left me alone in this callous world. Abandoned me, Branded me an orphan, Made me languish in pain, Agonize in vain, My day turned dark and despondent, My life turned bleak and impotent, But still my heart longed to see my mother. I can never in my life hate her. Because I was in her. My ire was directed only at God, He wrote my fate, He took my mom, what more can I ask, Nothing can replace her in my life. I said “My God my first and last wish, Give every child the power to see even before they were born, Children like me, who are so unfortunate Can see their mother's face at least from their womb. BY MADHUPRIYA SHANMUGAM