Uma Ram

Uma Ram Poems

A hallucination
To those born with
Silver Spoons….
An unrealistic truth,

I am unique,
No one in this world,
Has my face!
I am unique,

They cherished my first growth,
As a cute little baby plant,
Peeping out sweetly,
With a pair of tender foliage,

The beautiful springs,
Afresh from origin,
Sweet and placid,
Tender and flexible,

If it had been...
You would have been short of words,
You would have stammered,

If anger be-
The snail
Inside the shell,

I created you,
Gave you various forms,
With unique finger prints,
Exclusive features,


The hidden lion,
Is your strength,
Greater than his,

Transform attitude,
Behind lies entire world,
Why chase horizon? ? ?

The Mother...
That strong delicate creation,
Of God being unsatisfied,
With all his colossal universe,

Your thumb raised up as a SPIKE,
With even a lakh of such a LIKE,
Can you get at least even a BIKE,
But for someone still that one LIKE

No no no,
Please I beg of you,
I am afraid,
I am already submerged in water,

Draped in a deep red silk robe one day,
A greenish yellow the next day;
Turquoise pink, jarring the eyes from-
The Gloucestershire wardrobe of rainbow silky satins!


God’s secret spy
Besieging the soul;
Indefatigably duty conscious,

A tiny baby seedling,
Cultivated in the
Softest of civilized beds,
With utmost love and care,

A ladder might have been I,
For you to climb
And kicked away on reaching
Limelight up there,

Uma Ram Biography

A mother of two children, a home maker.)

The Best Poem Of Uma Ram

The Maid's Daughter

A hallucination
To those born with
Silver Spoons….
An unrealistic truth,
To those dominating
Mistresses, shimmering in
Golden body lotions;
Of the girl child,
Still entangled
In brimming poverty;
With a helpless mother-
Reaping the fruits
Of her domestic toils;
At the cost of her dreams…
As a bonded child labour,
Away from her home;
She sweeps and mops,
Cleans and washes,
Does the dishes;
Burying her wishes;
For the education
Of her brothers,
as a bonded child labour,
Away from her home,
Contented with
Discarded old clothes,
And excited with,
The broken toys;
Consoling her stomach,
With the leftover meals,
With a longing heart,
For the education;
Her brothers get,
Yearning eyes, for-
The her mistress’ off springs,
The delicious foods they eat,
The gorgeous dresses they wear,
The expensive toys they play,
The pampered care they get,
With sighs for
The wasted food,
In the garbage…
Continuing her routines,
To educate her brothers,
Growing up to be
A maid serving,
Yet another household,
With her brother's wife
To take over her duties,
Who too…
Sweeps and mops,
Cleans and washes,
Does the dishes,
Burying her wishes;
To aid her family,
At the cost of her dreams…….

Uma Ram Comments

Pranesh Patil 11 May 2015

Nice poem... Reminds me of Bhagavadgita! !

0 0 Reply

Uma Ram Quotes

None other that its own rust destroys iron like one's own anger!

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