Nanalal @ 90

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Your gaiety walk and proud chest
Your fair means and ways are the best
A young child and youngest brother once
You have emerged as a family elder
A lineage of culture and tradition
You proudly continued with a rich hue
Never forgetting those dim candle lit days
Of scarcity in privileges and endless days
You stood tall and mighty in your right
In what once appeared to be far fetched
In those long nights of plight
That you made your stint into journalism
From far away land your articles came
And Sakkerben reveled in the happiness game
A pride of prides Nanalal you became
A respected lawyer among many others
Uplifting the downtrodden on the path
Rising and shining on the law forte
Bringing justice to many on their porch
Never blinking an eye when it came to giving aid
Your selfless nature gave you name
Put to use in your welfare game

Through countless hours of lawyering
You found a passion of a greater giving
Realizing the true nature of humanity
For you attained a doctorate in that philosophy
Compassion that flows through you deep and wide
Even the Nile looks at you in awe
The feats you have achieved through these years
Will be remembered for eons to come
Yet humble you remain
As you strive to achieve your A-game.
Known fondly as Kaka to young and old
At a ripe 90 you stand mighty bold
We wish you good health, happiness and laughter
To celebrate yet another wonderful chapter

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MOTHER

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By Sikiladi

Mom, mother or simply mum
Closer to my heart …..
Than teeth to chewing gum

Mama, Amma or say it Ammi
Cannot resist the charm……
When fondly, snuggly she hugs me

Giving birth and bringing up
Was no mean chore…..
Flowing with love was her cup

Being far away in alien land
Grateful to her……
My each nerve, each hair strand

Sparing her time with equal care
Belonging to us siblings…..
In an undisputed uncounted share

Raising with added value education
Her guidance to me……
Has turned like a precious benediction

Being the light in unknown ways
She led my path…….
Letting me fall to rise in various ways

Playing Ludo game just for fun,
And Snakes and Ladders……
She taught life skills can be hard fun

Acceptance of my many traits
She experienced……..
Like unkempt hair tangled in braids

Taking tough decisions in her stride
She taught me…….
Perseverance can mature to be of pride

My first teacher, she became
Speech and walking…..
She taught me like a playful game

Being helpful and charitable was natural
Sharing and caring……
These traits became her precious jewel

Mother, mama, mér, maman or mummy
Titles may be many……
By any name she remains a dear mummy.

——–/–///———–

In the media:

published in The Asian Weekly- Edition 351 – May 12th to 18th 2017

Mother’s Day Feature

asian weekly 2017 Mother

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I AM SORRY MUM!

 

I am sorry mum for your suffering!
I am sorry for your pain bearing!
Having lost you to illness left me hurt….
But having lost you to wounds has injured me.
A brave warrior you fought till the end…
….Although the suffering saw no end.
The pricks and piercing here and there…
……And ugly jabs almost everywhere …..
…The uncouth handling of your care….
By the staff of Apollo’s nursing care.
The Intensive care forced upon you,
By the doctors of Apollo whilst their pockets
……..were fed by you.

The painful expression coming from your eyes,
Questioning me everyday,” why O! why?”
Docs pushing you away from the comfort of home,
To leave you alone at a time whilst sickness had grown….
The loss of the vital body fluid….
that should have run smooth and rapid.
Leaving you feeblest like never had….
Causing fevers and tremors of shivering ….
All so firmly accepted and borne by you.
The unethical morals rule medical fraternity ……..
The dirty tricks layered by ego between medics…
Cost me dearly a life that was precious and pure.

I am sorry mum for your suffering!
I am sorry for your pain bearing!
Having lost you to negligence by specialists….
Who forgot to check on you but checked pockets.
To them of interest were the results on charts,
They noticed not the inflicted painful darts.
Causing infection and then finding the cause,
Causing blood loss after blood loss to fulfill the loss….
By hundreds of syringes that extracted your blood……
…..To them it was a mere routine job.
Did they notice ever those shabby helper boys….
Contaminating the samples on the way to pathology lab ?
Holding trays full of samples, with samosaed oily hands,
Stopping on the way satiating their gossipy glands.

I am sorry mum for your suffering!
I am sorry for your pain bearing!
The legs captivated by that DVT pump….
Made you feel imprisoned on the hospital bed.
I should have understood your agony oh mum,
Please do forgive me for the ignorance mum.
The mouth went dry and you felt to cry…..
…..Neither a sip of water nor tears to cry.
I was shocked by that condition and wanted to pry…
Your hands too were bandaged under a pretext oh my!
Your own beautiful, glowing body ……
Turned to emerge a burden or a sort of cage….
Was it your illness or the hospital that laid the trap?
To squeeze out the life force out of you….
……Giving it wings of air to fly far away.

I am sorry mum for your suffering!
I am sorry for the pain bearing!
No apology ever came from them……
They found excuses to give you the run.
Their options all were fatalistic eventually,
They love the game called Life that ends in Death.
The Apollo Hospital at New Delhi,
To me appeared to be a death sanctuary.
I am bitter, yes very bitter at the way things worked,
I lost you at a place where lives are meant to get cured.
You said not a single formal goodbye
You spoke not a word in days lying masked.
You neither hugged nor were allowed to be hugged….
…….In life at hospital or even in death.
I miss by big motherly hug dear mum,
I miss you each day my dear mum.
Now memories alone shall hang on
Of the immediate past and years of past
Like a jigsaw puzzle unfolding on mind screen,
I wish I could get you back my own royal queen.
Sikiladi