After class, the kids rush
In the arms of their mothers
(And sometimes fathers)
Who are waiting for them
Outside the school gate

I am the last to walk out
Of the class because I
Have nobody waiting for me
I plod with my eyes to the
Ground, hoping to avoid
The sight of parental smiles

I try to mind my own business
I really try; but every once in a
While an idiot would call out
My name so loudly that I am
Left with no choice but to
Turn my face to them

They have only one question
To ask me and I don’t know
Why they never ask me about
You; they only want to know
About her; they ask me this:
Where’s your mom?

And I feel every nerve of my
Body tingle with embarrassment
At that question; it makes my
Whole body shiver and I am
Not sure how they can never see it

So, I come home and wait for
You; I twist and turn the question
In my head so I could find the
Best version of it that will fetch
Me the answer

Where’s mom?
Where has mom gone to?
When is mom going to come back?
Is mom going to pick me up from school tomorrow?
And a hundred more

So I ask you and hope that
You will help me out of this
Situation but you never do
You turn my question into a
Distraction and you bring up
The things that you want to
Talk about and that’s how
The question always hangs

Lately, however, I am filled
With this unquenchable urge
To ask you something more
Not because I have to answer
The kids back in school
But because I want to know

I want to know my mother
I want to know what kind of person she is
I want to know whether she has green skin or blue
I want to know whether she has stars for eyes
I want to know whether she believes in unicorns
I want to know everything about her

I want to know if she is left-handed or right
I want to know the way she ties her hair
I want to know what her favourite colour is
I want to know the sound of her voice
I want to know how she reads a fable
I want to know who she is

But you never tell me anything
You hide from me a diamond
As if the stone would lose its
Sheen if it ever came to be
Brought out in the light

It is very selfish of you
To keep that diamond all
To yourself, locked and
Carefully hidden away
In the darkest cavum

How do I tell her?
How do I bring myself to tell her?
She’s just a little girl
A bud on a stem of the tree of life
She’s young, innocent
With no impure thoughts
If I tell her the truth
What will she understand?
What will she make of it all?
Death will seem an alien concept
An unfamiliar script
No, she will not take it well
Her mind will wander
Her mind will wonder
She will conjure ideas that may not be right
She may draw wrong conclusions
Yet she is adamant
She is incessant in her appeals
She wants to know her mother
In a way she is like her mother
Fiery, forceful and yet undeniably sweet
I distract her
I avoid the topic
But I wonder if she sees right through my diversions
I wonder; sometimes I wonder all night
How do I tell her?
How do I tell her?

He held her hand
As they made their way
Inside the magical place
Where everything was
A shade of red

The entrance gate was bright red
With a mammoth wall of scarlet bushes
Enclosing the secrets inside
The path was cherry-red and
The grass growing all around was red too
Albeit a darker shade

As they made their way in
Their skin transformed too
It turned as bright and sparkling
As a stone of ruby

Large, tall trees populated the place
And each had a dark red trunk
With crimson leaves and
Dainty red fruits hanging
From its ruddy branches

A swarm of red birds littered the sky
Against the backdrop of a radiant red sun
Hiding behind envious red clouds

“Look there’s a pool there,” she said
After they had gone a little
Deeper into the garden
“Isn’t it beautiful?”

Indeed, it was beautiful
For the pool had glorious carmine water
Settled placidly in its lap
And reflecting the scant sunlight
That fell upon its cheeks

He held her hand
Tightly as they
Slowly marched towards
The pool leaving
Their old, dull world behind