Memories In The Amul Tin Poem by Prem Nizar Hameed

I still remember
the Amul tin
with a cute baby
smiling on it

My mother said
my little sister was in it
when she left me at two,
to stop my crying

I used to say
she was in the tin
whenever someone asked,
and the tin was with me
day and night

I dropped a portion of biscuits
and the other baby foods in it
for my little sister
as and when my mother fed me
(my mother would take away
those things later
to keep me impressed
that my vive was still there
and was having them like me)
I continued my feeding…

I also put on the tin
her baby dresses
(mother used to sprinkle
water on them
for keeping me engaged
to change her dresses
as and when she did for me)
and I took the tin under my blanket
whenever arrived the rain with thunder bolts

My mother used to apply
kaajal and bindiya on her
and on me as well
(I prevented my mother
from those beautifications
when I was promoted
to Upper primary)

Many years went by
One day mother asked me
about my childhood obstinacies
my memory failed to reach there
but my mother
kept on working
her strategy behind me
as I grew up,
but in matured way:
she still conceals the baby dresses
somewhere in my pillows
and somewhere in my mattress
to keep my memories in the Amul tin afresh
and her baby dresses still intact…