Lalitha

In a world of innocence, where childhood dreams reside,

A girl of twelve, her spirit free, playing hopscotch with pride.

Matriculation marked her limit, education's untrodden shore,

Little did she know, fate had a different path in store.

Amidst laughter and rangoli-drawn squares, a man appeared, eyes older,

Fifteen years his wisdom boasted, his intentions grew bolder.

"Will you marry me?" he asked, thinking it a game to be won,

But the girl, untouched by knowledge, knew not what had just begun.

With the naivety of youth, she agreed, thinking love's sweet embrace,

Yet unaware of the burdens that would soon cloud her grace.

At thirteen, her youthful bloom withered, as motherhood's grip took hold,

Bearing a son, tender and fragile, she faced a future untold.

And so, the cycle repeated, at fourteen, another life began,

Her burdened shoulders carried the weight of a woman, no longer a child, she'd stand.

Day by day, she tended to household chores, nurturing her offspring's cries,

Yet the man, though good at heart, oftentimes left her alone in her sighs.

And so, the cycle repeated, at fifteen, another life began,

With every step, her weary feet tread the path, a road unknown,

Her resilience echoed through the air, a symphony all her own.

Through bustling streets and weary lanes, she marched with grace untamed,

A portrait of determination, her spirit unyielding, unnamed.

So let this picture be etched in our hearts, a symbol of her might,

The child in a saree, carrying her son, walks toward the light.

In her selfless devotion, she carved a path for generations to come,

A heroine of resilience, her journey will forever be sung.

Unseen were the struggles, the battles fought in the dead of night,

Her resilience, a flickering flame, fuelled by her will to ignite.

Every child she bore, is a testament to her unwavering love and care,

For in her heart, a burning desire to ensure their future would be fair.

She toiled tirelessly, her hands calloused, her body frail,

But never once did she falter, never once did she quail.

Each child she raised, was a flicker of hope, a chance to break the chains,

Education became her weapon, their futures she'd help attain.

Years flew by, her brood grew, ten living children stood tall,

Yet the man who started it all failed to grasp her unwavering call.

But through tear-stained nights and weary days, she pressed on with a heart so pure,

Her legacy, woven in sacrifice, is a tapestry impossible to ignore.

In the midst of her responsibilities, a spark ignited within her soul,

An eagerness to explore, to travel beyond the confines of her role.

She would listen to the radio, absorbing tales of distant lands,

Immersing herself in stories, her dreams taking flight like shifting sands.

With a newspaper in hand, she devoured knowledge day by day,

Her hunger for learning was insatiable, a thirst she'd never betray.

Conversations with the world, she engaged in effortlessly,

Discussing any subject under the earth, her mind bright and free.

Her wisdom blossomed like a flower, nurtured by her curious mind,

She became a beacon of intellect, a testament to humankind.

Through her struggles and triumphs, she found solace in knowledge's embrace,

Enriching the lives of her children with the wisdom she'd embrace.

Thus, she became a remarkable force, a mother with a fervent quest,

To empower her children, to give them a life that's truly blessed.

In her eagerness to travel, in her hunger for knowledge so vast,

She left an indelible mark, a legacy that will forever last.

She was a beacon of strength, a mother who defied the odds,

With every tear shed and hurdle faced, she'd rise above the sods.

Let this poem be a tribute to her, a woman whose story you must hear

She is Lalitha, my mother.