The Sweets He Brings Poem by Ponniah Ganeshan

Oh, my dearest son,
Where did you go
My eyes still shed tears
Thinking of you
Mother and your unmarried
Sisters too
Whenever small one asks of you
With her childish tongue
I tell her of your long march
For bringing her sweets.

Where did you go
my dearest son,?
Leaving us all in the dark
To bring us light
When do you bring sweets for your
Little sister?
At least before you see her dead
On road holding sweets with her hands
The school books
Torn by bullets.

Where did you go
We fear as if the sky falling
And the sea raising
Up above the coconut trees
And as if we were thrown
Into the jaws of deaths.

I look at you table
Still lying silently
The books you read
The pen you wrote
Like you on days, you quarreled
With your mother.

I am sure
You may bring sweets, some day
It may be on your grave
You may look for me
When I am not alive
Nor did your little sister
I would have met my fate
Probably by a bullet
On road when I am out
In a market place
Or in the boutique, having breakfast.

If you want to see
And any message left to me
Talk to my picture
Lying on the ground without a wall
To hang on
Offering the sweet you brought.