Talking to you, Ma

     by Uma Asopa


Ma, you have been silent
all these years
and now suddenly
you are talking to me -
I don’t know why.



All I have of you,
is a framed face
in black and white, taken
even when
you were so indisposed.



I thought of placing you
amongst Gods and Goddesses
but your smile -
so subtle and mystic,
looks so full of life.
The eyes, ever so conversant,

eagerly tell me stories
of forgotten times -
like when I came to you
pregnant with my first child
and you laughed at me
the way I talked to the newborn.

It isn’t easy to know
looking at your eyes,
you were in pain.
They convey to me, many things,
many times.
But ,Ma,I don’t understand these signs.

Don’t leave me mixed up
with the matters of dead –
I am still alive.