Mother

The Most beautiful thing in the world in the world is my mother.
How she sways from left to right while walking.
How she still lifts her lips into a beautiful smile despite being silenced all her life.

How she still prepare those chapatis,
Despite the pain in her knees.

How she sometimes becomes overdramatic to make us do the work.
Perhaps she is in the stage where we were.

But i love her anyway.
My mother and i have the same love to crave peace.

Yet,
We are heaven apart
She is an angel in human disguise,
I am just a mere human.

From holding my knuckles to make me write
To letting me teach her each family members phone number.

Time had flied.
Leaving memories.

She is fifty now
And i am twenty-two.
However, even if millions of years pass, i will still remain a part of her.

Sometimes,
I can taste both the years of joy and pain from her eyes, wondering lovely impossible stories.

Sometimes i lift my hands towards the sky, sending a prayer for blessing me with her.

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