Dear Mom

I am writing this letter in the clouds with the pen of my soul, I am not any celestial being like a yaksha or Gandharwa but I need to write this on these fast-moving clouds so that it reaches you.

The evening sky is slowly giving to twilight .I love twilight and dawn as that is the only time day merges in to night and share all our stories with each other .

Mom ,I miss you and I badly miss you .

I am not your perfect child .Oh mom I was never enough ...when I looked in to your eyes I felt devastated at my three and half year .

My gaining a first in painting and story telling never mattered to you .You were disappointed I never danced or sang .But do you know mom I write beautiful poems that many today hum and I wish you sang my Urdu spill poetry ..on rang manch.But you left me in the rain where you were burnt down to ashes with out even bidding a fare well .When I kissed your cold fore head ,that night I thought you would awake to greet me and all around I was scared ,you would like me touching you.My hands were never dirty though

Deepu once told You know Arti what a beautiful dancer were you in child hood ...I just wept my heart out .It was a good compliment mom from my little brother, but my anklets were broken , my voice was seized only my words stayed with me and I wondered after I leave my pen and book at the hostel window those nights you read ...me 

You are my mom, of all my short comings you must be loving me.Mom did you get a rebirth ...I never wanted to believe the karma theory and the cycle of death and births .I loved to believe you found a place near God or may be you became a star.

Me and my daughter used to muse at the remaining of your photos our step mother bothered to spare.She could never replace your place from dads heart .You were such a  possessive love .How did you even love dad .You an urban legend with all beautiful days of hostel friends your style your beauty and Dad a village boy .

You were perfect daughter in law sister in law and wife and I an just me so imperfect so not bothered of this world 

Every where I go I am the story teller and the listener .It became my job too mom.I just listen to pain and that just go on.

May be God has woven my fate with threads of pain and tears and he must have felt I am his worthy and faithful to entrust all his mess that I clear it.

I never became a magnificent wife or enticing mother. But I am an enchantress mom, some where I realize people are drawn to me Good bad. My relationships, I don't do them any more mom they are stormy, and they fail, I get used misused abused ...yet I don't learn. So, I walk alone mom.

Life has made me bold and strong and my scars I wear as my trophies. Mom ...do you remember me ...or have you forgotten me .... would you think of a fairy yellow frock for my birthday on the new year ...

Every new year I expect one ...no one knows and bothers .

Like a flower I too bloomed and when it is time I shall too give away.

But again when snow and hail touch me this year let me think it as your kisses and the mist and fog your hug.

I slept close to wall trying to feel you ....it was cold ...like the time I kissed you goodbye 

Oh mom...I miss you and let these clouds bring my thoughts to you.