Home Literature/Poetry Reflections on Mother’s Day – Poems from Canada

Reflections on Mother’s Day – Poems from Canada

Reflections on Mother’s Day – Poems from Canada

How to forget the transition, from infancy to crawling

Dr. T. S. Anand, a renowned author, based in Canada, shares his poems  

Dr T S Anand - Sindh CourierDr. T.S. Anand has authored, edited and co-edited 18 books of creative literature and criticism, and published research papers on Indian English Literature, American, Afro-American and American-Jewish literature. He was President of Indian Association for American Studies (2002-2004), an academic body of university – college teachers in India. Currently, Dr. T.S. Anand lives in Canada and edits Literary Voice: A Peer Reviewed Journal of English Studies. He was Professor of English for two years in the University of Sirte, (Libya 2009 – 2011). Earlier he had retired as Principal of Gujranwala Guru Nanak Khalsa College, Ludhiana (India) in 2008.  


Don’t mind, my first love

If my drugged drowsiness

Switches off the mains

And misses ritualistic remembrance.

How to forget the transition

From infancy to crawling

From prattle to chatter

Overseen by smiling mien,

The prelude to

Cunning and cheating,

Awakening the strangeness

In making and breaking

To push upwards

Or drag downwards?

His departure ushered in

A world of woes

Soaked with throes of blight

Of abject penury

And social taunts

As hearth awaits fuel

Stomachs growl

Deprivations reign

An awful drain

On man-in-making

Wrenching and straining.

Bounties of indulgent love

Drilled trust in Him

And faith in self

That shed cast-offs

To don new mantle

Of service sans self

Of selfless absorption

Beyond distortions

To nurture siblings

With love and care

Sans cold stare.

A lot had happened

When you were gone

In pools of misery

I was nearly drowned,

The inputs on life

Streaming in system

Kept me afloat

As seasons changed

Others disowned

The darling siblings

Nurtured on lullabies.

Each year

As the day draws near

Search for words

In moments of scare

But can I square

In the remaining years

Of uncertainties and fears

Or pay a fraction

Of the debt so rich

Maternally darned

In life’s tunic?


Image courtesy: Wikipedia


With aching limbs

And falling vision

A heavy baggage

Of million treasons

Searching in greens

And sandy zones

on top of hills

In mysterious caves,

Awakened by

Deafening conches

And calls for prayers

Quest persists

In cozy laps

Varied forms

Of broken commands

Or narcissistic dips

On the treadmill of life

Myriad losses or gain

Recurring bruises

Of sufferable pain

That visit often

Like hibernating stream

The elusive metaphor

Changing hues

Running wildly

Offering no clues,

Words eternally ring

‘Some day or some other day’

Waiting abides

Wisdom chides

As innocent charm

Slowly subsides.

No sign

Of the elusive glue

Ever yearned

Ever spurned

As appetite gnaws

And drills the mind

Like worm of sins

Needling the numbness

With pricks and pins,

Rejuvenated urges

Cherished long

Seeking satiation

In epiphany of bliss.


Image Courtesy: Tiny Buddha


Essaying a glance

At deserted paths

Meandering through

Mossy tracks

Of anguished soul

As mind

Leaps beyond

Fathomable equations

Tormented by

Macho stances

Firmly rooted

In antique commands

Coursing through

Mute dumb

Preceding generations.

Adulation averted

Dignity subverted

Always a game

For minds perverted,

Measured my being

In corporeal norms

Without qualms,

A punching bag

For nocturnal delights,

Trampled feelings

Under brutish heels

The absurdities enacted

Yet no one feels.

A solicitous look

Caressing touch

Persona non grata

For the dressed doll

Strings manipulated

By hoary hands

And insane minds.

Staleness reigns

Dungeons of ‘bliss’

Of orderly life

Sister to abyss

Visitors not speak

But only hiss.

As life exists

Quest persists

To decipher destiny

Ordained by oracles

A life of shackles

Eternal battles

Against pillory

Shams of glory

An old long story

Passed as gospel.

Sphinx rises

Sky is domain,

Surveyor of

Terrific terrains

Trailing behind

Coffins of restrain,

Vision mirrors

Virgin plains

Dizzy hills

Peaks of glory,

That pave the way

For a new story.


Prepared by Angela Kosta Academic, journalist, writer, poet, essayist, literary critic, editor, translator


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