My Mother, Me And The Torn Saraswati Picture Poem by Bharati Nayak

What value that small incident holds for me? It was etched in my memory.A small child I was.I drew a picture of Saraswati(Goddess of learning) in my rough copy.It was a hard laboured drawing for a small child and I marvelled at its beauty.
Being proud of my talent, I showed it to every body.But one day, my mother wanted a piece of paper.Busy in other works she tore a piece from my rough copy and unknowingly she had torn a hand from my Saraswati picture which I had drawn so painstakingly.
When I discovered the torn picture I flew in rage to find the culprit.
My mother was in all apology for the mistake she did, but it did not cool me down.Stamping my feet I asked why she did not care to tear paper from my notebook.Then I wanted to show her my anger. From my note book I tore off the whole picture. My mother did not show any emotion as she knew it was but natural for me to be angry.Not being satisfied, I tore the paper into small pieces and threw them all around the house.I was cooling down after stamping my fury on torn pieces.
Discovering the dirt and the element of short temper flying here and there my cool Mom came rushing from the other room with a broom and started beating me without a question or without speaking a word. I knew why it was.I stood there like a stone, not telling a word further and promised to myself not to show off my anger ever.

by Bharati Nayak