(Thoughts of a mother on a son who’s turned bad)
The ocean’s blue, vast and lonely,
Reminds me of myself, my own life,
So much a failure, so much a disappointment,
Hopes and dreams, reached the skies,
Ten months of crucifix-pain, dying by the hour,
All seems in vain, all seems to be lost.
I knew a bright future was ahead at one,
The antics, the joy you brought to me,
Gave me ecstasy amidst the growing storm,
Things were to turn sour, I wasn’t worried.
I’ve got you, my rose of the desert,
I’ve got you.
I knew you’d be a star at seven,
Picking up marks, rag-picker like,
Singing your way to glory, and,
dancing your way to records,
The future Shah Rukh Khan, the badshah.
I’d die to do a duet with you, my angel.
Things flipped at fourteen, first signs,
Adolescence, the man of the moment,
You started to think of me as a no-brainer.
Girls caught your fancy, you became a dog,
Tongues out, chasing them, first signs of trouble.
Fights seemed common, my dreams seemed
To blur, anguish writ I wait for you.
Eighteen now, first time voter, bearded,
Into smoke, drinks, girls and nv.
All your talents thrown to the wind,
Every move of yours, a disgrace.
Everyone’s complaining, thrashed up by
The police, for illegal sex trade, and, still,
I preferred to believe, you’re innocent.
Twenty came, pain and sorrow tagged along,
First time you raised your hand to beat me,
Black and blue, inflated cheeks, deflated heart,
The jail, your second home. The prostitute’s. your first.
The walls, the floors, the world all had something to say,
Not the fame I foresaw, but the pain I overlooked.
My dreams, our household, came crashing down.
Enough…I can’t go on longer. I need space.. peace.
I’m happy by myself, silently joyful, without you.
It is true, I gave birth to you, ten months, I held you,
You’ve repaid me already, ten years, of bliss.
Enough… You’re past your sell-by date. Leave me alone.
I think of the future… more hurt, more sorrow…
I don’t need it. Oh God, have pity on me. Take him away.
Life is beautiful without you…