Preetam Shetty - An Answer

(This poem is dedicated to my friend who feels that her birth was responsible for destroying a happy family)

Up above in the heaven,
It hurts; I do cry,
When you blame yourself,
For the reason I did die.

Let me tell you a story,
About me; and my history,
Story in which there is no gain,
All you will find is pain.

When my journey began,
Happiness I wanted to borrow,
But always destiny shied,
All I got was sorrow.

Life was very dull,
All I learnt was to sulk,
But yet I wanted to wait,
Day happiness will come in bulk.

A day came to me an angel,
The one whom you call your mother,
I was growing very confident,
Now love will never smother.

Life was getting cheerful,
As days began to pass,
I can’t really express,
How happy I was.

Then came the moment,
In happiness I leapt,
My angel carried in her womb,
My most precious gift.

But again called the divine,
Told the day you will be born,
That will be the day,
Your mother will be gone.

When you creator heard this,
She happily took the knife,
All she ever wanted,
Was to get you a beautiful life.

Days when she was gone,
Whenever I heard your cry,
Felt the pain in your voice,
Then I wanted to die.

But I loved you my baby,
For your pains I was upset,
I swear whenever I held you,
I smiled, there was no regret.

Even today I coax the divine,
To get you happiness every day,
I am sorry, I lost patience,
The date was 31st May.

Preetam Shetty

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