The Voice

(To my mother, Santwana Mitra, who passed away at 85 on May 17, 2016)

 

A patient, adoring voice that buoyed my heart,

Shared fond memories and anecdotes of times passed,

Warmed my nightly journeys back home from work via satellite,

Just faded into the darkness of twilight.

 

The mother who shielded me from hurt,

Kept me close by her as she sat through college lectures,

Escorted me hundreds of miles away to a school in the hills,

Uttered her last blessings, saying get well she will.

 

The voice of assurance that all will be well,

That sang me to sleep on countless nights

Gave me hope and strength growing up as a child

Is now embedded in the recesses of my mind.

 

She lives in me, as I grew in her,

Our worlds fused in a sea of mirth and memories,

Of cricket, music, food and gossip — all things trivial,

That filled our lives with laughter and thrill.