"Gerroff me-
Don't touch my baby,
Just don't you dare."
Her eyes spat fire,
And glaring at all,
She held the bundle close,
Protective maternal instincts-
Fierce.
The slack bundle,
Made of patched rags-
Tied firm, onto her breasts.
She clutched onto it,
A frantic attempt,
At self preservation.
Her eyes moved on,
Anxious and frightened,
Across every face in the bus-
(Each of which displayed contempt)
Yet, her attention never wavering,
From her baby.
"Oh mamma is here darling,
None can take you away from me.
Awww don't cry...mamma's right here...
Its all right, baby... its all right..."
She cooed and cajoled-
Smiling in sheer innocence,
And the next second a deep fear,
Encompassing her senses,
And she'd clutch onto the bundle,
Hanging on, as if for life.
Sitting across the driver's seat,
I couldn't but see the baby dear-
I wondered f its a girl or a boy,
And I felt my heart go out-
In sheer helplessness, i watched.
I saw the little rattle in her hands,
Which she shook ever so often,
In all love-
Maybe, just to see her little one smile.
Her clothes were drab and old handovers,
I guessed.
Yet, the rattle shone, in all brilliance.
Sitting back-
Marvelling on a love so pure,
I watched the pair, for a long long time.
And then, i stood up, to get down,
And I peeked into the bundle cloth-
And I saw-
A teddy bear, brown;
To which she sang a lullaby,
Deep from her heart.
The bus moved on, with a honk-
And my head gave a spin, as i stood in awe.
The love I saw in her eyes,
Could melt even the stones-
The fear of losing her kid,
Could choke even the insensitive.
I walked on, wondering-
Was it a baby lost?
Or a baby never born?
And even today, I can not wipe off the picture,
From my mind's eye.
Nor can I help but ponder,
Ain't her love more real,
Than the many, we see today?
Indeed, it is-
The purest of love,
That the sane minds,
Ours-
Can never accept-
Or even, hope to understand.
Don't touch my baby,
Just don't you dare."
Her eyes spat fire,
And glaring at all,
She held the bundle close,
Protective maternal instincts-
Fierce.
The slack bundle,
Made of patched rags-
Tied firm, onto her breasts.
She clutched onto it,
A frantic attempt,
At self preservation.
Her eyes moved on,
Anxious and frightened,
Across every face in the bus-
(Each of which displayed contempt)
Yet, her attention never wavering,
From her baby.
"Oh mamma is here darling,
None can take you away from me.
Awww don't cry...mamma's right here...
Its all right, baby... its all right..."
She cooed and cajoled-
Smiling in sheer innocence,
And the next second a deep fear,
Encompassing her senses,
And she'd clutch onto the bundle,
Hanging on, as if for life.
Sitting across the driver's seat,
I couldn't but see the baby dear-
I wondered f its a girl or a boy,
And I felt my heart go out-
In sheer helplessness, i watched.
I saw the little rattle in her hands,
Which she shook ever so often,
In all love-
Maybe, just to see her little one smile.
Her clothes were drab and old handovers,
I guessed.
Yet, the rattle shone, in all brilliance.
Sitting back-
Marvelling on a love so pure,
I watched the pair, for a long long time.
And then, i stood up, to get down,
And I peeked into the bundle cloth-
And I saw-
A teddy bear, brown;
To which she sang a lullaby,
Deep from her heart.
The bus moved on, with a honk-
And my head gave a spin, as i stood in awe.
The love I saw in her eyes,
Could melt even the stones-
The fear of losing her kid,
Could choke even the insensitive.
I walked on, wondering-
Was it a baby lost?
Or a baby never born?
And even today, I can not wipe off the picture,
From my mind's eye.
Nor can I help but ponder,
Ain't her love more real,
Than the many, we see today?
Indeed, it is-
The purest of love,
That the sane minds,
Ours-
Can never accept-
Or even, hope to understand.
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