my mother's hands

This is the first time ever, I have attempted to write a poem and I am glad that the occasion is for my mom.

The hands that wake me up every morning by ruffling her hand into my hair.

Her sparkling eyes and a sweet smile, brings sunshine on my face.

The hands that makes bourn vita for me every morning.

The hands that makes sure there is enough cash in my wallet each time I step out of the home.

The hands that make me cry out of laughter,

The hands that cry with me when I am nervous.

She has a peculiar laughter which makes me think is she laughing or crying?

Her anger is funny. When she tries to shout, she smiles mid way.

Those hands that never lifted hands on me, but lifted me whenever I looked at her in awe.

The hands that gave me money at the same time taught me the value of money.

The hands that start trembling the moment she hears I am in trouble.

The hands that worked hard day and night to fulfill every desire of mine.

The hands that travel in buses and trains, so that I can travel in rickshaws

The hands that switch on bollywood music to make me sleep.

The hands that slept at the edge of the bed, making sure I have enough space to sleep.

The hands that pretends to be strong even when weak

The hands that have burnt its fingers to cook rotis for me

The hands that make sure I do not starve and fill my bag with a lot of fruits, dry fruits, biscuits, wafers and a biggg lunch.

Those hands that rarely cook, but when she does, she puts her heart into it and believe me, it’s absolutely delicious.

The hands that apply vicks on my nose when I have cold

The hands that select clothes for me when I go shopping

The hands that apply multani mitti and bleach on my face.

The hands that did not get to love a daughter and fulfills her desires on me.

The hands that dance without any rhythm and beat.

The hands that sits besides the window, staring deeply at the sea, hoping for miracles to happen.

The hands that fold themselves, sitting in front of lord, praying for my happiness and success, awaits to see me successful.

The hands taught me to ask for health and well being of everyone first but not to forget to ask for money.

Each time I enter home late, those hands impatiently waiting to see me

The hands put blanket over me without asking her to.

The hands that have kept me away from all the evil.

Each time my mother keeps her hand over my shoulders,  it comforts me the most and makes me forget the whole world.

The hands that pushed me into acting and these are the hands that till today are not letting me give up on acting.

I’d like if I could find a soul mate that could resemble my mom because I haven’t seen a beautiful woman than her.

Those hands that never got tired in my up-bringing are today becoming old, wrinkled and rough. But I promise my mum that no matter how big or small I am, I will always be there holding those hands reassuring them that I will never leave them alone.

Years down the line when I die, and god asks me, what is the proudest thing you’ve done on earth? I’d just smile and say, “I met a god who agreed to make me her child”.