Shraaddha

I was relieved of my duties and responsibilities towards you,

Really! As your daughter was that all I owed to you?

A little water, some milk and a few seeds of black sesame 

Trickling down the small palm of me,

A few other things and the priest chanting,

All succour to you granted.

Did you get any?

Some of the things offered of the many,

Did the water quench your thirst?

Or did the sesame get stuck causing a pain worse!

I felt so small and deceitful,

Perforning the shraaddha, downright evil.

Maa! I wanted to cry out to you,

There was no one who would listen to,

To this crazy girl of yours,

Her face flooded with her own tears,

So full of disgust towards such illogic,

Trying to turn to something magical, my hours tragic.

A few smiles, streams of tears,

Through which I could see you clear,

Everything was there,

Everyone there,

Only that for you there was no glass of water,

Nor you Maa, to eat, nor drink, neither to come back to us ever. 

©®Madhumita