Columnists
A Mother Prays:
For Young Angad Singh As He Leaves Home For Third Year of College
GURMEET KAUR
It’s been a while …
This act of love
I got to perform.
He has been away
Wings he has got
Comes home rarely
Pulled by this cord.
The cord of love,
The cord of color,
The cord of joy,
The cord of pain.
I wash; they bleed.
I rinse; they gleam.
I squeeze; they smile.
I spread them to dry
My home comes alive
Inside and out.
Colors abound
My heart blooms
The wind bows
The sun touches their feet.
I fold them
My hands tremble
I stack them
Tears flow.
Waheguru on my lips
Ardaas in my heart;
May this cord
Five yards long
Be his crown
Be his ground
Be his strength
His ultimate love.
And …
May my hands
Always have the privilege
To perform this act
All life long.
August 27, 2014
Conversation about this article
1: Biren Kaur (Patiala, Punjab), August 27, 2014, 2:52 PM.
A most sacred act of love ... by a mother for her son, by a wife for her husband, by a woman for her lover ... and, where applicable, vice versa.
2: Sangat Singh (Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia), August 27, 2014, 8:06 PM.
Gurmeet ji, since God was so busy, He made mothers and such compassionate, loving and graceful ones too, in answer to the prayer: "raam-ee-aa ha-o-baaik tayra" -- "Because I am your child ..." [GGS:478.14].
3: Harpreet (Atlanta, Georgia, USA), August 28, 2014, 9:36 AM.
Beautiful poem, Gurmeet bhain ji. You have expressed your thoughts and feelings so beautifully. The love of a mother ...!