Why, Oh Why, My Mom, Don'T See My Cry

'O' mom, O' mom.. Am sweet baby, Thou love the most; Mom a preceptor and Play partner of mine; Cohere me in arms, Never left alone; Inspired me in each stage, Taught me from crawling, To walk then talk; Stage by stage I learned All primary needs of life; Situation changed, When reached at 4, Mom shoved me to school, From play school to Lkg, Ukg, Then to grade one and so on.., In my play and learning age; Why, oh why, my mom, Don't see my cry; I carry load of books, More than my weight; The purpose don't know yet; I learn more, while I play, Than cramming bulky filthy books; As a cub learns chasing prey, While in play with mom; The torture doesn't end here; I go to tuition, copy and paste, From the books to brain; Cram lessons over and over, Rehearse verbally and write, Until Ego of mom or teachers, Is quenched; Scares me, haunts in dreams too, The stress and mental agony, Is severely painful and tiring; The pain I endure, During school and home work, Is more torturing, Than hardship of a child worker, In farm or factory; Can you spare us some freedom, For our own dream, creative plays, To evolve our own instinct; We are kids, don't bury us, Under your snide ego, And heavy unneeded books; As even eagle before the prey, Pinpoints distance, speed, timing, And agility of the prey and self, Without the help of mathematics In books; Animals too know the saving, Leftover for future, After quenching hunger, Without the books of economics, We are taught; The experience teaches, Than the books; © sadashivan nair