By Pujita Ganotra
Dear Mother, do you not love me anymore?
I ask this question in my head
As I stare at your closed door
I tear my gaze from the door
I start having conversations with ghosts on the same floor
I ask them if they see it too.
They tilt their head, feeling muddled
They probably think I'm troubled
I shake my head and try to explain
How our relationship shifted from love to disdain
Remember mum, when I was six
Whatever we did, we would just instantly clicked
We laughed
We cried
But I guess that story died
Remember Mum?
When I was seven
You introduced me to Heaven
Ok! Maybe It's an exaggeration
But tell that to my imagination
My first visit to a bookstore
Remember, how I gaped as we walked through the door
You told about all the books that you had read
Yes, I remember every word that you said
We walked through the wooden isles
We were all Sunshine and smiles
You bought me my first book that day
I repeat that day in my mind all night and day
Seasons changed
So, did you
I don't know which version of you is true
The one that laughed and teased
Or who scowls at me by my mere sight
The one who danced with glee
Or the woman who would never be pleased
Silent tears roll down my cheek
How did our lives become so colourless and bleak?
From being best friends
We became two people who don't even speak
Behind me I hear my bedroom door creak
I can feel my little brother peek
But the tears don't stop
I'm almost tempted to ask him to bring a mop
I cry for the person my mom was
I cry because I’m a lost cause
I cry for what we were
I cry for what we could have become
But the woman who was warmth is gone
Our relationship worned off and torn
So, I wipe my tear-streaked cheeks
And move towards the door that creaks
For my pillows will hear my pain
Because they don't mind
When I complain
I pray for the rain to come
For here I lie, undone
By Pujita Ganotra
Well Done!
Beautiful!
You're my favorite poetess 💕
Superb writing. God bless you bacha!!!!
Beautifullly penned