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The missings

posted May 10, 2011, 2:56 AM by Knanaya Voice   [ updated May 10, 2011, 2:59 AM by Cijoy Parappallil ]

Missing, missing everything is missing,
One by one in this life as a serial of movie,
First I missed my real place of origin.
The air conditioned room—my mummy’s womb,
After two hundred and eighty days of gestation,
Though I cried much, but I couldn’t go back.

                    As I grew up, all my toys, beautiful frocks, 
                    With frills and laces, and embroideries, 
                    Mummy’s, Daddy’s sweet kisses are missed, 
                    Also the childhood and its joyful plays with 
                    Butterflies, puppies, pussy cat and birds.

Years passed, I missed my shining skin,
Oh ! my glossy cheeks became wrinkled,
My black, thick, curly hair became grey and thin,
My beautiful teeth missed one by one,
The power of vision reduced a lot,
The posture of my spine is too curved,
Like wise my sweet youth is missed.
                   
                    Instead, I got one walking stick, 
                    I searched on the way for my missing youth, 
                    With my bending spine and shaking limbs, 
                    My healthy strong muscles weakening, 
                    The body shape already missed forever.
                    At last I am tired,
The strength of my body and mind missed, 
I fell down on the bed as helpless 
As if my newborn stage,
I know one day my whole vision will be missed,
Circulation of blood and respiration will stop,
Darkness and fear will come and embrace me,
Oh ! at last I will miss the life of this world.
Every human being has to pass through these glimpses,
But one thing will ever last,
The real love and goodness to others.

Aleyamma Jose
Assitant Professor
Govt. College of Nursing
Medical College, Kottayam

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