I glean through the depth of memories 
And I recall the toddler age of Six'
Beckoning on infancy 
Where I vividly learnt 1+1=2
With the sonorous tone of ABC

Upon my young age-
While I cry; melodious sound of lullaby blares, 
With such a lovingly parental. 
And even hands frantically waving, 
From some compassionate folks
To ease my bruise. 

My six old self ;I was taught to worship
In words supplication of “Allahu Akbar”
Standing up and bowing in prayers, 
And of the day when I would be asked,
to call to prayer.

For, in the years of sixteen-
Now left in wholly on my manliness 
To accept my fate 
And leave as nurtured in righteous ways
To give them their dream retirement! 



Popular posts from this blog

Reflections: Getting the Pandemic Right

Suicide Prophesy and other Poems

The reality of Existence.