Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal Poems

Dirty game

Blaring voice and strong signal came
Message from boy aging 9 for playing game
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Dear son, dear son, dear son,
I feel weight of more than ton,
It gives me worry and lot of pain,
All my efforts seem to go in vain,
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I did not follow,
Mind didn’t allow,
Hide face under pillow,
Some bitter pills to swallow,
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Whose hands should have been hand cuffed and blind folded?
To face a death penalty and possible murder in cold
Can this practice be not put on permanent hold?
Can this be construed as cowardice act or bold?
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Life is like clean slate
Completes run with soul mate
You have to inscribe and state
Good and bad experience to relate
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It is believed that all pairs are decided in heaven,
Many agree and accept golden phrase even,
Lucky are those who get desired partner,
Unlucky are those who become good listener,
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In dead night Long ring on land line
Woke me up suddenly from sleep fine,
I was not drunk or had taken wine
Eyes remained half open with light’s shine
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Is step mother altogether different from real mother?
Every time this question emerges and bothers
Whether real or step mother the vacant place can’t be filled by others
It is woman who has heart to offer as kind feeler or soothers
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Apologetic gesture and earnest attempts to woo
Do or die approach with resolve to do
I find it very hard and out of it nothing to gain
It adds to tension and worries still remain
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I reflected in one of my poem
“O, mother you are one and no other”
Let whole world go mad but you never bother
We find no parallel as
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