Motherhood

My thoughts are rooted 

Down and deep, 

Where my mother keeps on crying

 For the problems she keeps. 

She had witnessed the past-

Of battles fought out of love and thirst, 

Lives lost for the sake of her freedom that was kept in bond. 

But when the past was cured

From the foreign threat that it endured, her soil got infected too soon 

 by her own children who were 

Once a priceless boon. 

She saw the little girls being caged 

And thwart.

When their wings were chopped off 

Before it knew how to fly through 

The clouds of hopes and smell the soil of freedom unknown ;

Such pain did not drain her blood 

In fact, it was enough to make her heart rot

When her natives made laws that were 

Partial and wrong

Only meant for the rich ones. 

For history had seen 

The mother spent tears in pain 

For the struggle of the needy daughters and sons. 

Such pain must have been more

Hurting than her history soaked in blood 

But only if Future vouch 

For the correction of the Present sins-

Our mother can then take her 

Breathe in relief, 

She will then join in our independence 

That was awaited long, 

And be lost in of Tagore's melodious song.