Once again a hollow burrows in me,
Once again, she is packed and ready to fly.
Sometimes I see her speculating – Sometimes, it is me.
Only Questions… and perhaps, it is the same for her too.
She barely strode out of the side gate.
And now astride on the highway.
“Don’t worry” her look seems to say -
But silently musing the unknown.
My expression responds ‘its gonn'a be all right.’
And I ponder at my resolution.
Will the food give her cramps? Are the professors friendly?
Will new friends love her like her old? What about the weather?
Will she have any spare time? Will she be happy or cry for me?
“Pasta is like rice noodles with sauce. I like it! ” she quips.
Mama! It’s Roma! Do as the Romans do…. I know it’s a fib.
“I’ll never have time to brush my hair- so I’ll let it loose.
I can paint my nails blue; as unlike in school. So,
No moment to spare to Skype or chat with you.”
I turn my back, “this place seems a railway platform” eyeing the clutter of bags.
I’m certainly not helping you pack your strewn clothes.” I holler-
Folding her jacket and stole. ‘Too much’ I grumble………and softly mumble;
“Can I put some crackers, a few munchies. Your favorite Hershies – white ones? ”
She stares – eyes crystal. I’m greeted with silence; The door closes to her room.
The dinner was spent at the TGIF – bursts of words and loads of mute chatter.
We shopped and present her with a green Anarkali.
‘Be totally Indian in Totally Rome’ I said.
The quiet walk through the car park- she pinches me and meows like a kitten.
I meow back - she stretches her hand to hold mine.
“Can you make rotis’ for breakfast tomorrow?
I’m not going to get them in Rome you know.”
Yes. I do. I also know your silence and the closed door.
Your mother is always waiting at this point – every time you walk through.
You have always been supportive. You are such a great poet and to get any sort or encouragement or comments from poet like you is an honor. My humble thanks Nair.
Yes. I do. I also know your silence and the closed door. Your mother is always waiting at this point – every time you walk through.........a mother is really the embodiment of love and sacrifice. A beautiful and intensive poem having well expressed and aptly penned. Thanks for sharing.....10
Beautifully written! I can relate. Thank you for sharing, Roop.
This is exactly we feel each time we send our children back to universities after a vacation or new places of work! I can feel the warmth of this mother- daughter relationship in every line! Let us hope that she will feel at home in her new environs! I too miss my children, especially the one who is still a student in a far away university for whom vacation is practically nil! A 10
Your concern for your child proves the status of a mother and a poetess You are indeed a good mother and poetess
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
“Can you make rotis’ for breakfast tomorrow? I’m not going to get them in Rome you know.” Great! Rest assured she is well-rooted. (10)