Orphans From The Womb

In a ward for infants and newly born, Silent sat young mothers rocking the ‘rose Of their eyes' to sleep, some with worries torn, Their new born wait whilst to be cuddled close. There too is this Ma who among them lies Sleepless, next to a vacant whitish cradle, No sign of sleep anywhere in her eyes, Impatient, waiting to go sans saddle. But long and lonely still her wait might be, And gruesome gets the wait for child, oft crude, In a secluded ward this mom can't see, For an adopting home, hailing mom-hood. We live in a world wanton in her ways, Parenthood pinned on a long pilgrimage, For an alms of a child fasting long days, Unwed moms whilst feel imprisoned in cage. Even mothers from no poor parentage, Leaving the fruit of lust as nameless face On footsteps of a lonely public place, Oh, signs of changing values, times and age! Oh well, this happened all thru and ever Since and even before Kunti1 set sail Her child of curiosity in river, A Sati, her repute never did pale. But there are better ways upon our hand— Use of medical means, to terminate The hapless life ere too late ‘tis to mend, Or stopping seed of lust right at the gate! But long as orphans be of wombs, of sin, There would remain odd cradles of trash bin. ______________________________________________________ Kunti1: The mother of Pandu princes of Mahabharata fame. She set sail her son, Karna, begot from Sun god in river, and raised by foster parents. This piece narrates the story of an unwed mother waiting in a maternity ward; her newly born child in a secluded ward awaiting adoption so that she can return light of unwanted responsibility. It depicts signs of times. ______________________________________________________ Happenings | 12.02.07 |