Friday, May 8, 2009
A Pregnant Silence (A Tribute to my mom)
As I cruised above the sky
Looking down to my past from a bird’s eye
Over the Pearl of the East
In a pregnant silence
Pausing the hiatus past that I had missed
I could hear
So clear
Reverberating echoes of my chanting rhymes
“Cucur Keria Cucur Badak”
Siapa lambat tinggal seredak”
Along alleys and back lanes
Selling delicacies my dear mother made
In a basket a hundred each
Leaving scarlet marks
On my aching wrists
Looking down to the past
In a pregnant pause
Selling kuehs to sailors, merchants and lays
At a tender age little did I know
Turning sweat into money
Was a good deed
But I avoided slums and quarters
That my schoolmates lived
Shy them spinelessly
For I had to toil in the glaring heat
Of a punishing sunbeam
To make ends meet.
Thank you, mom.
(Sempena hari Ibu 2009.)
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I am impressed Rachmat. Selling cucur at a tender age. Now a doctor.
ReplyDeleteMy childhood was as hard having being orphaned at age nine but not quite as hard actually.
This, our children nowadays cannot appreciate.Our difficulties in our childhood that mould a certain perspective in later adulthood. I wonder whether if NTR or people like Hishamuddin or KJ would go thru these initial setback like ours they would be better leaders .I have no doubt people like KJ and Hishamuddin, given the 'silver spoons so early in their life and their present position now in the realm of established ' pecking order' within the power structure, will feature very much in the leadership stucture in future .Do we have a choice, unless the raayats come up in arms over the present issues, we are likely to see them as future PM"s.
Nik, TQ for reading my poem.
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