The neem tree cried yesterday
It had seen me grow...
It shed lush, bitter tears,
And hustled about in pain
As I got ready, bejeweled and made-up;
It suddenly began to rain.
The neem laughed at the irony
At relief and salve unasked;
It wanted to brood in solitude,
pampering the pain.
My grandfather would sit below the tree,
Bare-bodied, with only pajamas on.
The neem would sway from side to side
to greet the old man a good morn.
As I ran about from shrub to shrub
Marvelling at the nests littles birds made,
My granpa would hold out his arms
in an effort to embrace...
Grandfather is gone,
the tree sways in loneliness.
It has grown heavier under the burden of memories
And servants urge that the tree be relieved.
As I agreed, in a hurry to go
The neem tree overheard.
A loud cry it muffled.
The neem tree saw me grow
The tree saw me go.
Gauri Gharpure
4 comments:
Hello Gauri you have indeed penned down a good poem.
poignant... made for a very good read. shine on.
hi..ur poem jus made me ponder as to why many creations which makes up a part of our childhood often lies forgotten n abandoned....'growing up' makes us shed most of our leaves and creates new ones jus like ur neem tree...the roots stay the way they are or jus uprooted as some of us choose to....thats life. cheers.
Exactly... we overlook simple things in life today which were prized possessions yesterday.
On second thoughts, but isnt that part of normal growing up? In other words, moving on? A brutal fact of life?
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