“through the act of living, the discovery of oneself is made concurrently with the discovery of the world around us. . ."

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

A bit more time

Listening to friends talking about their mothers;

One said – “She’s eighty, still hale and hearty,

Got to go home for dinner with her”.

Before he could continue, the other said,

“Mine is eighty too, she’s OK,

Though a bit slow in walking”.

Men of my age. Silent, I calculate -

If my mother were alive,

She’d be eighty three.

I wished she had married younger

And I were born first, so that

I could’ve spent, at the most

A bit more time with her.

Now that she’s gone

I wish she weren’t

Though there were times when alive

I had wished she weren't.

How foolish, how regrettably foolish

Not to love, not to be with

The ones who care for you most!

******** Balachandran V, Trivandrum, 12-01-2010


  1. feelings penned down in words beautifully.Yes,it happens. I still fight with my mother and dont realise her imporatance ,even though iam a mother myself.But when Iam not with her, I miss her alot.

  2. "How foolish, how regretfully foolish

    Not to love, not to be with

    The ones who care for you most".

    Does this really matter in this world? When material dominance is the rule?

  3. This we realize only after the loved one is long gone.

  4. Something which we always take for granted.

  5. I think we are cursed.. we as a human race.. to not know love except when it has passed...

  6. We don't realize the value of things till we lose them.


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