She Was Barely Forty Poem by Aadil Hingorjo

She was ill since years
Injured in kidneys
Attacked on her lungs
Wrapped in her own body
Never properly diagnosed
She kept crying for treatment
Her husband didn't entertain her
He didn't go to her
Even he pushed her by saying
You're just doing the drama;
You're fit and fine;
You don't seem to be unwell at all!
She was confined to her own corners
Her children were her asset
The little, lofty children
Like the verses of some holy book
She would kiss them delicately
She would teach them the ethics
She would forbid them to cross the wall
He didn't in honest sense own them
She would train them all the way
In night, she'd tell them stories
She would sing lullaby to make them sleep
When in slumbers they laughed, she'd hug them
In the terrified loneliness, she'd accompany her
She would open the novels to console her
She would sit in chair for hours
From the mid-eve to sunset, she'd stay there
She would recall her childhood memories
And the days spent in her father's home
She would discover the dance out there
The past memories always soothed her
She had undying faith in God
She'd say she had had nothing but God
She'd recite the specific chapters daily
She'd recite the Duroods
And would also recite 'Astaghfars'
Once I asked her why would you recite 'Astaghfars'?
She smilingly said, just to stay away from sins and to be near to God.
She was barely Forty
Undiagnosed beauty
She died of extreme illness last night.