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To the sweet chimes of bells
My conscious revives

Tossing and turning wished to have more sleep
But to her glare, I have to astir

In irks, I peeked at the wee morning
My senses sinews in it’s serene

The glittering dews on the flowers bids my eyes
The sonorous song of birds waves me along with

Her veneration at idol’s feet is deep
“Why”? I always think

As she pours water to basil
Her face glows most beautiful

If I would catch a cold
She handed me worm milk soon

I steeped within pages of my books
But somewhere in deep the thought floats

On a leap of faith, she surrendered at “her” feet
Battled hard to raise us to be virtuous human beings

To the life’s hard she fought undeterred
It deposited in my infantile mind in some corner

The intent behind that strict eyes and silent gesture
I could now internalize, I think now I am little mature.

My life owes to your mother
Your love course through my spirit.

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