Son’s Return Poem by DILIPBHASKER MATHRA

“Your face is so wrinkled”
My mother’s grief.
An unexpected regret frailed my mind
I looked over me
But could not see well my body
Then moved for a mirror
To see my image,
To examine
What changes eroded my face.
With many many wrinkles,
I had been wandering
Like a frantic
I had been in dismay
With many strangers
Who pretended to be friends.
I did not realize my folly
The idle days I spent with them
Did not fetch anything,
They did not teach me
What I am!
They did not expose me
Who they are,
One day a sudden thought
Drove me home
To my lone mother.
“You are very tired my boy”
Mother’s mild scold enfolded in affection
Sorrow in her old eyes.
“At last you returned
I prayed to Him only for that
Every day and night
As my last days are counted.”
My mistakes I realized
And pledged firmly
Never to go away from her
Never …. again.
I saw waste of days behind
And a tough challenge ahead.
Then I, startled to know
That strange truth…..
I am not a boy
But I a grown up man.
My existence is in stake
If stagger in this world to strive.