The colourful active life of the housewife
Is beyond my reach now
The little ones who nagged me
For a any hut in the front yard
Are all grown. and have built grand mansions of their own.
No need to force soft young feet
Into sandals anymore.
Nor correct pretty letters in little copy book
No need to worry whether the milk sweet enough
No flowers to stitch upon a new dress
Even the fruit trees don’t call me
To draw them water from the well
In the morning.
Sitting with the pen nestling in my hardened hands
I look at the lessening glow of the departing day
The world spreads before me
Like a big rest house well scrubbed and wide open.
In my mind I relive the moments
Of heavy duty in the days past.
The feasts and festivals will come again.
The dining table will don damask covers anew,
Songs and dances will arise once more
And wandering like a flake of snow,
I will move aroundtouching, searching and letting go
Why then this sense of loss
When this pen dares
To build higher worlds
From these fallen tears?
Contributor:
BALAMONI AMMA. Well-known poet in Malayalam. She has received awards from the Central Sahitya Akademy as well as the Kerala Sahitya Akademy. She has published more than two hundred poems. Her poems reflect the sentiments of motherly love and the innocence of childhood. She is the mother of the famous poetess and short story writer Kamala Das.
