Where are my memories, Ma?
For thirteen years I've waited
for the day, you'd get a holiday!
It's true, at night I sleep with you,
In the morning, you make my tiffin,
But where's the in-between?
It's true you pay my fees
Wash my clothes, my Tee's,
But what about that Double Scoop
You told me we would share in the summer?
That walk by the Ganges in the
end of March,
Going some place new, and not the Church?
What about that poem we'd read together,
Sing Tagore lying on the terrace, gazing at the stars?
Or watering those plant we'd buy?
Paint the window panes in my room,
Buy a Valentine's Day card for Daddy,
And listen to Anupam Roy?
I know your hands ache,
I beg you to take a break,
But you love what you do,
And anyway, you're doing your duty too,
You say.
" What else do you want from me?
I'm your Nurse, your Nanny, your Slave....!
I wash your clothes, cook your food,
Clean the house, buy you books...!
What else?", you ask.
Memories Ma, I want Memories of you.
I want you to sit and see me read,
I want you to scold me for grades instead.
I want you to talk of birds and bees,
Ask me if I like a boy,
Have I written any poems lately...
I just don't want you to think
That I'm a task for you to complete,
A gas balloon to fill air into,
and let go of.
You're not the leaf I am to chew to be a butterfly,
You're the flower I will sit on, Ma,
The colours I'll pass by.
We have a year in our hand,
Three vacations, and my personal hell.
Make memories Ma,
I beg you, make memories for me,
I'll keep them in my pocket when
I jump into the well.