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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 astirIn 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 thinks
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 vertueous human beings
To the life’s hard she fought undettered
It deposited in my infantile mind in some corner
The intend behind that strict eyes and silent gesture
I could now internalize, I think now I am little mature.
My life owe to you mother Your love course through my spirit.

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