14
By: Puja Borah, Nagaon College
On a pitch dark night,
When misfortunes flew in the sky,
Ruthlessly dropped upon the dear mother;
Fainted she, nor mourned nor murmured,
With stream of tears and divine despair.
A painful thrust in the dark,
Where she longs for her dead son.
Her dreams, hopes and desires,
Were all smashed in seconds.
Her days are covered by a black veil,
Filled with millions of frowns.
A white silk cloth which tightly wrapped
The neck of the little boy,
Hanging on himself from the window rail,
And froth dropping in the tile floor.
He is gone now, many miles away,
So far,leaving his memories behind.
And all its aching joys are now no more,
And all its dizzy raptures.
So sad, so strange, so perplex,
The graceful days will never come back ,
And the sun like never rising.
