Utopia : The Land of My Soul
Monday, September 18, 2006
A Letter from a Mother to a Son
-----------------------------------------
(Courtesy to a Journalist of The Statesman who had a story on the
similar lines years ago, my writing is on his lines. The thought
of this is only inspired from that story, the rest is my input.)
-----------------------------------------
(Courtesy to a Journalist of The Statesman who had a story on the
similar lines years ago, my writing is on his lines. The thought
of this is only inspired from that story, the rest is my input.)
Dear Son,
I'm glancing through the sills of window at the space around me. It's star-decked here. Visibility is translucent, all that I can decipher is a realm of vacuity mingled with the beams of Nimbus like umbra. Time is frost here and millions of slings cannot thaw it. My existence is but a serene, tranquil consciousness. I have nothing to spare a thought about save You and your well-being. That is the single most overriding memory that I haven't been able to part with, over these harrowing years. Yes my sweet, I'm talking about those 19 years of bereavement.
O! If only I had a heart to cry out the sedimented aches of the almost bygone score, if only i had a pair of eyes to cry out my imperceptible heart that throbs for you! When I left, you were just a bundle of joy - a pygmy size darling with a booming, buzzing sense of understanding, a cry-baby who could just be hushed up if I fed you and lullabied you to doze off peacefully. An irrefutable, invincible force mightier than the bond of filial love snatched me away from you. I had to move zillions of miles away where your despondent yearn for me would'nt reach. My corporeal frame was burnt to ashes and my soul transcended the earthly bounds of human emotions, but nothing could snap off the ties of blood. Your satin touch, your fragrance, your honey-suckled face, your angelic giggles and your guileless ogling at the world as if it were your new playground - I borne them all in the inner recesses of my soul as if they were embossed forever. Even today those puny details make me feel starved. The pain of half-requited motherhood wrenches every nook of my being, a being that is caught between the snare of existence and oblivious non-existence.
Today you are turning 20 after trodding a quarter part of your life without my loving coocon around you, without the tender shade of my caresses. I can see you as a handsome boy, pretty much resembling your father, tawny faced with a bluish tinge left after you have shaved your marshy stubble and a square built with a dint of muscular frame. I know you you will soon have a swooning fan following. (But my child remember to make your poor mum proud, don't get swayed by the sweep of the mob. the world's countless fancies can lead you astray, stranding to a rueful state.) I am watching you from here. You have just set out of the house towards your destination -your college. The arrogance of youth with its indomitable spirit is evident from every stride that you are taking. There you are, gazing at the sky above you just to invoke my blessings. Son, you are already blessed. Each earth day, as you wake up my blessings stream on you with the sunrays that smear the hues of gold on you.
Don't pout child, don't feel that you are ill-fated. I am with you as a part of your being as you were a part of my flesh and blood for full 270 days. Look within you. The heart that pounds, the
lungs that give you the fuel to live, the sense organs that aid you to perceive the world - all were a part of me and they took shape as each day they were suppled with cells. Today, as you are about to lunge forward to turn over a new chapter of life, let me escort you son. I have implored the orbs to gift you with the integrity to walk straight without having to stoop in shame. I have beseeched the ministers of adversity to silken up your way. I have prayed to the Lord that all life through you can pull up your sleeves to face odd clogs. Time is not as rapacious as it has had appeared to you. It had brazened you at an early age by chopping me off the parent tree to which you could have entwined to creep up. But, now its pay back time. Your fairy-Godmother has brewed up a concoction to touch upon magic on your life. She has murmured into my ears that your sunny days of hay-making are at the threshold. The inviting vistas will beckon you with arms widespread. So equip yourself dear, lest the opportunities should fly by. Cough up whatever is ailing you and arise like a Phoenix to conquer the world! May the three sisters of fate who spin the wheel of fortune canonize your heart and soul. God bless you sweets.
Your Mom in Heaven.
I'm glancing through the sills of window at the space around me. It's star-decked here. Visibility is translucent, all that I can decipher is a realm of vacuity mingled with the beams of Nimbus like umbra. Time is frost here and millions of slings cannot thaw it. My existence is but a serene, tranquil consciousness. I have nothing to spare a thought about save You and your well-being. That is the single most overriding memory that I haven't been able to part with, over these harrowing years. Yes my sweet, I'm talking about those 19 years of bereavement.
O! If only I had a heart to cry out the sedimented aches of the almost bygone score, if only i had a pair of eyes to cry out my imperceptible heart that throbs for you! When I left, you were just a bundle of joy - a pygmy size darling with a booming, buzzing sense of understanding, a cry-baby who could just be hushed up if I fed you and lullabied you to doze off peacefully. An irrefutable, invincible force mightier than the bond of filial love snatched me away from you. I had to move zillions of miles away where your despondent yearn for me would'nt reach. My corporeal frame was burnt to ashes and my soul transcended the earthly bounds of human emotions, but nothing could snap off the ties of blood. Your satin touch, your fragrance, your honey-suckled face, your angelic giggles and your guileless ogling at the world as if it were your new playground - I borne them all in the inner recesses of my soul as if they were embossed forever. Even today those puny details make me feel starved. The pain of half-requited motherhood wrenches every nook of my being, a being that is caught between the snare of existence and oblivious non-existence.
Today you are turning 20 after trodding a quarter part of your life without my loving coocon around you, without the tender shade of my caresses. I can see you as a handsome boy, pretty much resembling your father, tawny faced with a bluish tinge left after you have shaved your marshy stubble and a square built with a dint of muscular frame. I know you you will soon have a swooning fan following. (But my child remember to make your poor mum proud, don't get swayed by the sweep of the mob. the world's countless fancies can lead you astray, stranding to a rueful state.) I am watching you from here. You have just set out of the house towards your destination -your college. The arrogance of youth with its indomitable spirit is evident from every stride that you are taking. There you are, gazing at the sky above you just to invoke my blessings. Son, you are already blessed. Each earth day, as you wake up my blessings stream on you with the sunrays that smear the hues of gold on you.
Don't pout child, don't feel that you are ill-fated. I am with you as a part of your being as you were a part of my flesh and blood for full 270 days. Look within you. The heart that pounds, the
lungs that give you the fuel to live, the sense organs that aid you to perceive the world - all were a part of me and they took shape as each day they were suppled with cells. Today, as you are about to lunge forward to turn over a new chapter of life, let me escort you son. I have implored the orbs to gift you with the integrity to walk straight without having to stoop in shame. I have beseeched the ministers of adversity to silken up your way. I have prayed to the Lord that all life through you can pull up your sleeves to face odd clogs. Time is not as rapacious as it has had appeared to you. It had brazened you at an early age by chopping me off the parent tree to which you could have entwined to creep up. But, now its pay back time. Your fairy-Godmother has brewed up a concoction to touch upon magic on your life. She has murmured into my ears that your sunny days of hay-making are at the threshold. The inviting vistas will beckon you with arms widespread. So equip yourself dear, lest the opportunities should fly by. Cough up whatever is ailing you and arise like a Phoenix to conquer the world! May the three sisters of fate who spin the wheel of fortune canonize your heart and soul. God bless you sweets.
Your Mom in Heaven.
Labels: Creativity
10 Comments:
ahhh Mom ...
But I avoid emotions . it always enslaves me ..
Yes I am selfish but ...
@hazel dream
when you say you avoid emotions lest you are enslaved, means you are afraid that people might exploit you if they discover the mossy side of you. I won't call it selfish but its like hibernating inside a shell as a defence mechanism from the thrashes of this big , bad world.
Its emotional ...
And really good ..but you know the sad part with this is that this kan only be felt by the mother, tahts why it seems from the lines the sadness of the mother.
well yes lets see when will I thaw my existence with someones warmth
Wow...Amu!!
Thx for that truly worthy read!!
:)
Hey..Let me thank you for dropping by my blog and the generous comments you have put in..
Am happy to read this one..Its so well crafted..
I have just started through your other blogs..will comment on them as and when I finish reading it..
It reaLLY felt like being written from heaven!!
Thanks for sharing this post. It was like your mother was writing this to you. You are indeed a good son. awesome writing.I am just teary eyed.
@velu
thanx. i just made a little effort and the joy is all mine to know that i am successful in my effort to make it a worthy read
@matthew
hey i wud also compliment the same for you. you too are a crafty writer and a sensitive one too.
@starry nights
I don't know whether i'm a good son or not, (how can i be? my gender is female :)). I'm really honoured and moved to know my writing could move you so much....
Hi amu
you have put this nic pic of Kol..
I miss that city so much
That was something!! How DID you come up with all that!!
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