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In this poem, Vickey talks about old parents left behind and neglected by their children – exclusively for Different Truths.
Yes, I have seen the wrinkles. Crying alone in the drawing rooms, Sunk utterly in dejection. Uncared parents with sullen faces! Yet, blessing the rotten Fruits of their womb. The dearest ones are the rarest ones! The tragic tale of today! Those tears from wrinkles Drop in and out of the heart's cracks. But unable to irrigate their arid hearts. Pity! What an emotional draught! Witnessed I have the neglected houses With miserably neglected grey hairs Ah! Those ageing souls, shivering bones. Who cares for those remorseful remnants Whimpering eyes, tired of waiting For the born who hardly ever mourn. Perennial loneliness becomes eternal anguish, That eats up and up slowly the marrow of life. Degrees and achievements may shine In the eyes of those migrated children, Who abandons their old parents, Whose grieved hearts scream with wide smiles.
Picture design by Anumita Roy
