My mother’s death

I still remember the day,
The weather was nice,
I think it was Sunday,
A lazy day to spend on a vise.

A child of eighth standard,
Enjoying his chocolate milk,
Without much worry of the world,
Life as smooth as cloth of silk.

But ,alas,
all good things ends,
The absolute law,
Fate’s general trends.

This lesson,
The child was about to learn,
His life was going to take,
A hard and dramatic turn.

Suddenly,
His mother starts coughing,
She a patient of Asthma,
Felt problem in breathing.
Child still not worried,
As, father was with mother,
He will take care of everything,

But, papa can do so much,
Sometimes, it takes more than,
A dear’s love magic touch,
Not a would, healed by a kiss,
Mother’s lung needs a crutch,
A machine to filter oxygen,
His mother need much.

But ,alas,
Even machines are no match,
To almighty ‘Yama’, god of death.
The child now realises the situation,
Rush to his mother’s side,
First time felt real desparation.

Entire family was in the room,
Not for dinner, just gloom,
Papa constantly checking heart beat,
As high as that of an athlete.

That sounds like a compliment,
But mother is thin and weak,
Sign of fate’s dreadful intent,
Like a slaughter house’s reek.

She complains of great restlessness,
Child feel something foul has commence,
Her body starts getting cold,
Child looks desparatly to father,
For sign of some hope,
Got an equally desparate look rather.

With nothing to do ,
He start rubbing her feat.
Against lord Yama,
He refused to accept defeat.

What a child can do,
Mother grew unconscious,
She spoke quickly to him,
Don’t cry little mister,
I will be alright, if you promise,
Never to fight your sister.

Before child can take the vow,
Mother grew unconscious,
No way now, to let mother know,
As these words will be remembered,
As last of her voice heard.

Heartbeat declined rapidly,
Child grew anxious by the moment,
Cusred himself for being lazy,
In first aid class of CPR remitence.

She grew pailer by the moment,
Then the siren sounds,
Ambulance took his mother,
Away from all bounds,
Never to return to him,
Across umcimbable mounds.

What can a child do,
Has no control over death.
Except one thing,
Wish of her last breath.

So, I look to the sky,
And made this resolve,
Never ever to shy,
From hard work, even absolve,
To protect my sister from every cry,
I will be strong and brave,
This will be my good bye.

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