I MET MYSELF UNDER A LEMON TREE

 

I found myself sleeping soundly in my Mom’s lap...oblivious of future...

 

I found myself playing with orange, vibrant, naughty sunshine in my Mom’s garden...amidst the bed of roses and chrysanthemum...

 

I found myself following Mom in every room holding her Saree...

 

I found myself snoring under my favorite lemon tree...the lemons with awesome aroma taking away all my anxiety...

 

I found myself figuring out a way for climbing a mango tree in Grandpa’s garden...

 

And then running for life when a bunch of monkeys did not like that idea...

 

I found myself fighting with my kid sister and then repenting till today...

I found myself leading my cousins and sister through a plan to steal guavas from Mr Krishnamurthy’s garden...

 

I found myself growing up and forgetting all these tiny weeny pleasures...

And getting entangled in false interpretation of love through loads of Mills and Boons...

I found myself as a wife, a mother and amidst loads of turmoil...

 

Even though I have revived my soul through my son’s childhood...

 

still how much of my worries am I dumping on him subconsciously...how much??

I found myself thinking whether the orange sun could come and play with my son as his baseball...

...to take away any trace of negativity from his life...

 

I need to change myself ...

I have always known that, tried that and failed...

I want to give up, and stop trying to be a super woman...

I am dead already...lost already...whom are you searching for in my dead body...??

But don't be fooled because I will keep trying and keep breathing till the end

 

Reviews

[Eagle Cruagh]

Wish I had the answer for you. We worry about our
children. Have we done the right thing for them.
Are they having the same advantages, the gardens ,
the oranges and guavas of your child hood.
I guess, in place of the simple life we knew and loved,
we attempt to secure the good life for our children by
over educating, over protecting and yes, sometimes we
over love them.
They are just children, as we were children, let them grow.

If I only had the power to still your fears, but you must be
resilient, relying on the integrity you learned in those
gardens of your childhood.

Your story is very interesting, very well written. I am sure that
it will be read and enjoyed by many.

Beautiful writing.

------ Eagle Cruagh

[Katherine Wyatt]

A very beautiful and profound piece of writing...The strong consciousness.. (and conscience) shines through the piece..a wonderful piece

[Micheal Teal]

Beautifully honest poems. The sentiments are such that most people will be able to identify with them. Poetry at is best should be a heartfelt endeavor that makes one think. You have created a myriad of thoughts for me to ponder and for that I thank you.

Words are your gift to humankind and all are blessed who experience the truth and authenticity of your poetry.

[Amber Nicole]

Thanks for your review and your add... The title of this poem beckoned me to read it and I'm glad I did. I loved it.

[Mark]

How odd, that in this poem you seem to refute the promises you made yourself in "Life Beckons", that you would grit your teeth and stand back as wee Kriis experiences the minor traumas of childhood, understanding that they are the building blocks with which he will erect the defenses against far greater terrors and injuries as an adult! "How much of my worries am I dumping on him...?" Relax Prati, this parenthood thing has been going on for a long time, and every child produced by two parents (themselves the sum of four, who were the amalgam of eight, etc., ad infinitum!) becomes precisely the tool, with precisely the qualities God will use in time within His grand Tapestry.Think of him as steel, which though mostly iron, also contains carbon, nickel, chromium, molybdenum, and I've no idea what else, which the unlearned might see as impurities, as contaminants, and without which the Sword would be dull and would shatter on first impact.

[Sean Allen]

A nice concept, meeting yourself.

I found myself thinking whether the orange sun could come and play with my son as his baseball...
A very nice line here.

[Vaishali..^_^]

i enjoyed the poem...!beautiful and nice piece.....!and sad also...!!

[Sheila Kline]

Dear Pratibha!
How delightful a write as you take us through your childhood adventures, with vivid descriptions of your activities and musings....then we see you grow up and have a child and a marriage that is sad.
Yet, your resolve to give your son something of value from your life shines through, as you compare the momentoes of your childhood to his.
You declaration of survival in the end is the crowning touch to the story!
Very well written, and a story that is most entertaining!
With Friendship,
Sheila

[Big ol' Kahuna]

I like the poem, Prati. I enjoy the reference to the tiny things, because I think we all forget them as we grow up. Kind of like when you buy your child an expensive toy, and they end up playing with the box more than the toy. And I loved the message at the end, after what to me seems like a time out from all the stress and worries of life, when you say you will keep trying and breathing till the end.

Thank you for writing this. I did enjoy it.

[Honeypot]

Ah, Prati this was excellent. It was sad, yet at times made me smile and giggle. I thought the part about running from monkeys was very funny, although probably not at the time and the part about your sister and repenting to this day hit home because I feel like I do the same. The last stanza was very sad and was full of hopelessness.

I know that you are an excellent mother though. You try so hard and worry about doing the right thing. People who work that hard at something always do a better job than they think.

This is a really good poem. Its full of tons of emotion and memories. You did a wonderful job!

[Anita B Jacques]

Thank you for the last stanza, you had me worry, don't try to be perfect and loose your identity, only God is perfect. Live and learn and enjoy the lesson. To be best as you can be, I believe you already made it. Wisdom is full of pity, and thereby, man pay for too much wisdom with much pain.(EURIPIDES -480-4o6-B.C)
I love your poem, so poetic with images from your words, I could smell the lemons, and all the other fruits we could also find in the Garden of Eden. Don't be discourage, it's life you are describing. A great write my friend.
In friendship
Annie