maa...

Thinking about her is just like
making a revisit to the past ingloriously peaceful,
Little things which carry no value otherwise,
Come to me with multiple connotations-
of love, affection, pride and refuge...

Little insignificant things-
the smell of kitchen soot,
or, that of the known talcum flakes...
a dab of cream on the face upon some wintry morning,
a benign smile,
an all knowing stare,
an angry face with all heart's pains painted straight,
a wait at the table for the arrival of her little prince,
an act of self effacing defense...

Little things done without any strings attached,
only out of love,
-pure, undiluted;

Little things that meant so much
That once you start missing them,
you simply cannot forget your associations with them,
You miss them forever!

O mother!
why left me so poor?
why left me blinded?
why?