Long back, lived a lady aged ninety <br />And her maternal great grand son. <br />He loved her; she loved him. <br />No one loved him that much. <br />No one he loved that much. <br />At her age, no purpose for such love. <br />At his age, no reason for such love. <br />She was poor, alone, lived away. <br />He knows her as sunken, skinny, utter black, <br />With so much love, with no one to share with, <br />With no one to tend or care her. <br /> <br />She had unfailing power of reciting <br />Mile long mythological verses <br />That she got by hearing and not reading. <br />Herself starving, she took pain <br />To have come to him to feed him <br />With poorly made cakes and snacks. <br /> <br />She reproduced many, who, in turn, many, who, in turn, many. <br />None came by when she went insane. <br />He never saw her first son’s son <br />Ever see, love or care her at any stage, <br />With her eldest son dead young. <br />And with no respite with her youngest son, <br />Who was the constant tormentor. <br /> <br />She had a sad death, a miserable death. <br />Even now, after half a century, <br />He pities her, mourns her death. <br />Even now, he weeps for her. <br />Long live her parental grand children, <br />None of whom is in prosperity, <br />19.04.2001, Pmdi<br /><br />Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar.<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/homage-to-his-old-lady-lakshmi/
