Daniel Trevelyn Joseph
That was my mother and a true Indian:
She did padmasan and taught me to,
Where to keep the fingers for mudra.
She recited the lines of patriotism,
“Breathes there the man with soul
So dead.....” of Sir Walter Scott.
She taught me the moving story of Nala
Named her daughter Damayanthi: ensured for
One son at least an Indian name, like Rajiv.
She knew by heart and told me, “The clock
Has just struck two: the expiring taper rises
And sinks in...” City Night Piece of Goldsmith.
She spoke to me of rishis and sadhus of India
Since she was first generation non-Hindu,
Carrying the vibrant, rich past of India!
She was bright, not the sentimental kind,
Simple, worked for thirty rupees a month
In school, to supplement dad’s salary for us.
Dad was proud of her always,
We four too, proud of her and fond,
My Pune house perpetuates her name.
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Comments about this poem (Sarojini Pushpam by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph )
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