her gait with weak negotiations skills
acceding to firm terra of arguments
some sages argue to taste some voices
and waste them not in listening
her parboiled words, overdone gibberish
no men or medicine could eavesdrop
on whispering of her snarled up fingers
with scribbling of her fate
one night she broke the piggybank of her courage
bribed her way to a perfect gait,
doled out the secret scribbling of fate
bought herself regal indulgences
was bathed in roses and camphor
dressed in smirch less white and
carried over shoulders
* Mummy in Urdu. Passed away April 27,2003 after a prolonged illness. Took me a while to break news....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow, it is an amazing poem, beautifully written and of course sad.