A heart-wrenching poem, by Sarala, about an insensitive and ungrateful son, who never cared for his parent’s plight and penury. An exclusive for Different Truths.
They worked day and night In the field with rains and hottest Sun shining on their frail bodies To see their son becomes settled well as an engineer! They gave him the best Ignoring their hunger pangs and torn clothes He was equal to the rich boys Who attended school with him Going out with friends And dining out not deserved by him! He became an engineer They sent him abroad Hypothecating their home Still working without any rest Months passed, years flew Not a letter from him They wrote to him every week Asking him to help them To fill their stomach As all monies were going to the Bank as interest for the house! He never bothered to reply at all He was enjoying his life with His women abroad and his work! A time came when they were Asked to vacate the house They stayed in a tarpaulin shed Next door with torn clothes and sheets They cried and cried But no one heard the cry of their heart Both became bedridden With little rice gruel from The kind neighbours every day! They clung on to the memories Of his childhood and his photo next to them! They wrapped themselves with the Old shirts he had left to soothe Their sorrowful hearts! They took their last breath Together one night Not disturbing a soul! The neighbours performed Their last rites and informed their son Who came by the next flight, With no feelings and searched for their little box where he found Some cash they had saved With a note ... For our son when he returns … He did not shed a tear and Went back with the cash!
Poet’s Note: Don’t live your life for your children alone and don’t do more than what they deserve.
Visual by Different Truths
Sarala Balachandran was working with an import-export organisation in the administrative department for 38 years. She retired eleven years back. Married, with two sons aged 43 and 36, she took interest in writing recently. She writes free verses.
By
By
By
By