I have been away a long time. It is like home coming... Lots has happened in my life since. I lost my mother and maternal aunt in quick succession. This was written, when mother was still alive, but sick, quiet and contemplative... and I wondered:
A World in those Eyes
I look into those eyes:Now vacant,
Now reflective,
Now deeply troubled...
Now contemplating on life
Now reminiscing about the past
Now lamenting the loss of time
Now full of remorse
Now expressing the futility of it all...
A whole life passes through those eyes
In small flashes, glimpses of it can be caught
And if you are a little observant, they teach you a lot...
And, I wonder:
What goes on behind those eyes?
What goes on in that mind-
that mirrors in those eyes?
Is she happy to have lived
Long enough to see her grand children grow
With hope still to see
The great grand child on his way...
Is she regretting the mistakes she made
And would like to correct them again
To redo, to relive, life differently
To start afresh if given a chance...
God knows what would be her stance?
Is she asking for more to live
To finish the unfinished tasks
To recapture in poetry, the unlived past
To pen down her hopes for future generations
To teach them lessons she learnt from experience
To pass down her legacy of pain
To talk of things inane...
Who knows what is in that heart...
Does she remember her first love?
Does she suffer the pangs of agony
on the first separation from her beloved?
Does she wallow in the sweetness
Of that first rendezvous
that set her pulse racing
Her heart throbbing, her soul soaring...
Who knows what that soul is searching?
Or is she replaying the images of places,
Her wanderlust took her to,
The likeness of people's faces,
From Grimsby to Greece,
Turkey to Moldavia,
Kenya to Australia,
France to Pakistan,
Russia to Afghanistan,
That became dear to her
Over the years...
God only knows what glistens in those tears...
Or does reflect on the futility of it all:
A life lived with all her might
A struggle every day to survive
To suffer the vagaries of life
Weather every storm,
And
Come out of it unscathed,
Or sometimes bruised and weary
With scars that looked scary
But,
Always ready to start
Afresh, and put it all behind
Only to remember, when life was kind...
Who knows what philosophy, she gathered with time?
But one thing I know:
She is mother mine...
I can see a whole world in those enchanting eyes
I wish I could read her mind...
Author: Zoya Zaidi
24.11.2010 9.30-10 PM
Dubai UAE
After Ammi sat us, her four children, down and talked about our duties after she is gone vis a vis her writings, jewelry, books and belongings, and above all lessons, she learned from life and wanted to pass on to us...
When I read it (the poem) to my mother, there were tears in her eyes...
Poetry by Zoya Zaidi
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Editors' choiceWritten on 2011-05-11 at 09:40
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