Tag Archives: mom

Spoken Poetry #1 – Dear Mom.

It completely slipped my mind that I should probably put my first Spoken Poetry performance here. I loved every second of that experience; being on stage, taking something so immensely personal and getting the audience to live it with me. So here it is, a letter to someone I miss every single day. Dear Mom, this one is for you.


Happy Birthday, Mom.

I remember the birthday we spent together three years ago. It must have been a few weeks into your chemo; but the scars of your struggle were now starting to show. For the first time in so many years, you and I didn’t stay up late. For the first time in so many years, there was no childish, excited wait. For the first time in so many years, there was no birthday cake because no matter what you ate at that point in time, your head would spin and nauseate. It felt sad, having to celebrate your liveliness so quietly.

The next morning, I overslept. So when I woke up, the first thing I did was sprint up the steps to your bedroom door. I imagined you would be sleeping so I quietly pushed it open; hoping that I’d be the first face you’d see as you woke up on your special day. But as I stepped into your room, I felt this quiet, impending feeling of gloom. One experienced in the countless hospital trips that conditioned you and I to feel nothing but doom. I saw an empty bed, and a rush of blood to my head said- something’s wrong. I knew you couldn’t even walk straight without me by your side to take your weight. I could feel my hands shake; I could feel the insides of my head ache and throb and about to break. I called out your name, again and again and again and then suddenly, I heard mine in return. A sigh of relief as I immediately turned to where it came from.

As I pushed open the bathroom door, I saw you slouched against the wall, sitting calmly on the floor. Trying to maintain a fine line between livid worrying and escalating dread, I just stood there with a million thoughts inside my head, and you, you just looked at me, and you smiled. Typical of you, you know? Everytime you knew there was tension you couldn’t dilute, you just flashed a smile so adorably cute hoping I would forget. I almost did. But I asked again.

You smiled once more. And then you spoke. In words I wish I remembered, so I could put them in quotes and show the entire world how you saw it with so much hope. You told me how it hurt to be a burden. How on days that hovered between bad and worse you felt like an absolute curse that just refused to go away. You told me how it felt, when you needed me to walk two metres or less, and how it made you feel absolutely helpless, every single day. So on your birthday, you decided to be different.

It hurts my heart to imagine how you swayed across the room to where you fell, but for that one day living in hell made you feel a little more at ease, even if it meant falling to your knees, at least you did it all by yourself. I didn’t know whether to smile or to cry; but these things you said were like invisible forces pulling me from both sides. I heaved you up, and I walked you back to your bed. You were smiling, but your eyes were wet. I tried to give you the warm hug that you’d mastered over the years, one that had so often given my tears a reason to change into something else. If only you knew how much I live that memory, even today.

Three years later, I celebrate your birthday the same way you and I did back then. There is silence, and a quiet birthday wish in this letter; and an empty realization that things could have been so much better. What I miss far outweighs what I have found; but that balance would tilt so drastically if you were around today. Today, I wish I could borrow your shoulders to keep my head; I wish I could kiss your cheeks and tell you everything I never said, instead of writing things you will never read, unless heaven has a speed post service (which it desperately needs.) What I would give, to have you live, not in memories but somewhere real. Every second spent wondering how that would feel suddenly, be worth the time, and the energy.

Anyway, this isn’t about my wishes, its about how hard it is loving you from afar. I only wish I could find the words to define these feelings of mine with a beauty that was half as perfect as you are. I hope you have fun there (for heaven’s sake) and that God employs the best bakery to make your cake. Stay as lively as you’ve always been, remember to lick the icing from the bottom of the cake tin, just how you’ve always liked it.

Down here, Dad will raise a drink and we all will keep you in our prayers and think about the countless reasons you gave us to call happiness our own. We’ll keep missing you, even if we are three parts of a broken mess; and we will love you, alwaysthemore, nevertheless.

I miss you. I love you.

Happy Birthday.



This one’s for you Mom. Hope there’s some way you might get to read it.



If you didn’t see what happened that night, when I stood all alone beside your bed,

I’m writing this now so you get to read, every little thing that went on inside in my head.

I drew the curtains and latched the door, I didn’t want anyone to hear what I had to say,

The only exception would have been you, but you couldn’t hear me now anyway.


So I just held your hand and it was so cold, just like this world which gave you pain,

I asked you questions which I asked you everyday, ( I asked over and  over again.)

I waited like an eternity for you to reply.. For you to just do anything at all for that matter,

I could hear my heart pounding in that empty room, and when you didn’t move I heard it shatter.


They say everything that happens is for the best,  but how am I to think of this for the better?

How could you leave without saying good bye, or without any last words to hold this heart together?

I cried and prayed, experienced a world of pain, until your blanket was stained with my tears,

I opened every corner of my heart to you, every hidden emotion, every thought and ever fear.


I begged you to come back once and talk to me, and tell me everything that I wanted to hear,

I just wanted to tell you everything I left unsaid, I wanted to hug you and hold you near.

It wasn’t easy accepting so many things, like the fact that I won’t see you smile,

that I won’t have anyone to run back to,when miserable things like this would start to pile


I wouldn’t hear your laugh echo in the hall back home, or any thing else with your special touch,

It wasn’t even 5 minutes since you were gone, it was devastating I missed you so much.

I just want you to know that I’m so very proud of you, for inspiringme to be everything nice,

I’m proud you you fought on with a smile on your face, even when the cancer relapsed twice.


It wasn’t easy seeing you suffer like that, and I know it wasn’t easy for you too,

And I’m glad you’re in a much better place now, even if it means staying away from you.

I’ve seen you fight these months with your soul, when it would’ve been easier to give in and leave,

You chose to live when it was easier to die, and you made everyone around you believe.


I want you to know I’ll do whatever to walk in your shoes, I’ll even try to better whatever you saw,

I’ll light up lives, smile all the way, (Yeah., even find you your beautiful daughter in law.)

But do know you’ve left behind a hole so big, one that probably will never ever be filled,

A hole that’ll only disappear when my wish of meeting you once again is fulfilled.


Only after I made all these confessions, was when I decided it was time to leave,

My final promise was that I wouldn’t cry anymore, that this was the last time I would grieve.

So I clasped your hand one last time and prayed, then I did the hardest thing ever asked from me,

I kissed you goodbye and broke down again, i hope this one time you’ll let my emotions run free?


Life is going to be anything but easy after you, all straight roads will now curve uphill,

Starting from losing the most lively person in my life, and watching her lie absolutely still.

Rest assured I know you’re watching me right now, writing this struggling to hold my own,

But these wounds will take their time to heal, so will this feeling of being all alone.


Till then I hope you promise to watch over us all, to make it a little easier than it now seems,

I hope you give us the strength to go on without you, and that you speak to us in our dreams.

Ask God to give me a kid who smiles like you, so that I never have a reason to complain,

Ask God to send a little of your warmth with the light, a little of your love with the rain.


In turn I’ll remember you’re always around me, and I’ll try  not to be forever scarred,

And that inspite of all that has happened, you’re gone but still never too far.


Little Things.

She stood in the distance, unaware just how lovingly I was staring at her. She slowly glided past me, as gently as the delicate breeze that swayed the few thin strands of hair on her head. The sound of uneasy, imbalanced footsteps echoed in the room, as she lowered herself onto a wooden chair that moaned as she collapsed into it. Little beads of sweat trickled down her once beautiful dusky skin, now botched with black patches, remainders and reminders of the ordeals she had undertaken in the past few months. A look of intense concentration spread itself across her face, as she tried to focus her attentions to the cup of hot tea that lay on the table in front of her.

She reached out ever so slowly, trying to stop it from shivering as her hand clasped at the winter air, trying to grab the handle of the teacup. Her fingers felt around it’s scathing surface, trying to find the strength to lift it to her parched lips. Them a moment of calm, its silence broken only by her heavy breathing, and the gentle clanging of the teacup against the glass saucer. She sighed, as she heaved the cup upwards, the cancer drugs inside her body disrupting her sense of balance and normalcy. The hot tea spilled across the table for a second, but she only chuckled at her clumsiness.

Her hands still trembled, like a candle flame nearing the end of its existence, but that only seemed to make her even more determined. Her eyes drifted in and out of a world only she could understand, trying to speak to a mind so thoroughly drained that it wished for nothing but peace and tranquility. The morphine which dulled her unbearable pain from the chemotherapy, had already sapped the boundless energy that danced in her smiles. Yet she fought hard to keep awake, to keep trying, wanting to do one of the very few things she was allowed to do without feeling handicapped. The strain showed clearly on her face, as the cup of tea came ever so close to her lips. The smell of tea wafted close to her, tantalizing her, as the cup came even closer. Her lips, full of cracked lines running like fissures across the drought stricken plains, anticipated the warm liquid that would touch them, free them from their fate.  She closed her eyes as the tea touched her lips, savoring the beauty of her thirst being quenched. She sipped it in utter ecstasy, the most beautiful smile stretching itself across her face. The chair groaned once more and so did she, as she gathered all her strength to stand back up, her slow foot steps now made their way towards me. She smiled once more and looked at me, I smiled back. ‘I love you son’ she whispered, before the echoes of her footsteps faded away.