Dedicated to all mother’s

 

Dedicated   to  all  mother’s

 

Translated with  tears  in eye

By  an old  granpa  of 84( P.R.Ramachander)

 

 

This mother  makes a moon

On a dosa   thawa

 

It may  be father’s home

But for us  it is n mother’s home  only

 

Mother’s  office  is in kitchen

Her  salary is  our  affection

 

Her  children  may  be working  abroad

But  in her house  neighbor’s children   are eating

 

Father  lives  below   sun

But mother  below  a moon

WE  find perfume  of moon  in her kitchen

 

If   we   fall sick  , we  do not  need medicine

Mother’s hand  which touches  our forehead often is more  than sufficient

 

Hey friends  who tease  us seeing  turmeric  mark on our new shirt

It  is  not just  turmeric but mother’s  turmeric

 

Mother’s expect in bag of son  who has  come from another place

Only   dirty   cloths   to wash

 

The  peace  and joy  for a son,

On whom  father  is angry

Is only  the lap  of mother

When mother  is sick with covid

She  is sad   that she  cannot   cook

 

The word  for home  in many  people’s

Dictionary  is  Mother

 

If  a man travels eighteen hours  and stuggles

There  is only  one reason –Mother

 

The begger   who invented to call “Oh mother”

Is  a genius   psychologist

 

You   can   deceive  mother  by telling any lie

But  not  the lie “ I have  already  eaten”

 

When very   rarely  son and father  chat  and laugh

Mother would  wipe her eyes  for dust  that has  not fallen

 

When   you pack  your  bag  to abroad

Mother packs  it tight  with  her affection

 

When school children have  to pay fees,

Kids  ask mother , for  she will get it some how
 Or  take  from father’s  packet  and  be scolded

 

Though  father and mother  are  inside home

WE knock  and call  “Oh mummy”

 

In all  the  poems  written about mother

There   will be two wet  drops  of tears

 

The  great  slogan  of  all  mother’s  are

My  child cannot tolerate  hunger