By: Summiaya Nilofer Kichloo You see, My Ammi-
She tells me,
How her ribs contract,
Whenever she breathes,
How her back aches,
Whenever she sits for too long,
How her eye lids feel heavy,
Though she’s unable to sleep,
How her nails-
Have acquired a purple shade,
Which is sick to the eye,
How her bones crack,
All of a sudden,
How her pulse doesn't escalate,
At a normal pace,
How her bed,
isn't warm anymore,
How her eyes,
They have lost its color,
And that there's a void-
Seeping thru her heart.
How her fists,
They aren't clenched anymore,
How her body is weakening,
And that she's losing everything,
From the tips of her fingers,
Like the pixie dust, the glamour-
The glamour of grief, sorrow, empathy. But still you see,
She awaits for me,
With her arms wide open.
To sing me lullabies,
To bring me home,
To shower all the pixie dust,
That of love, and happiness,
Over my distant being.
All of that,
When I cannot do things anymore,
She encourages me to do it once more,
When I think its all over,
She tells me to start over,
It’s all about her-
After all,
My Ammi. Poet's Bio: Summiaya Nilofer Kichloo is a student from the Kishtwar District of Chenab Valley, in Jammu/Kashmir. She is an avid and enthusiastic writer, penning both poetry and fiction. Her poetry covers a broad range of ideas, thoughts and philosophies. Currently, she is working as a freelance writer and columnist.