I wrote this poem on one of those ‘bad mamma’ days when my girls had both entered the ‘rebel teens’ stage. If you have children but have not experienced that stage or have managed to cross through it without being bogged down, then you’re indeed fortunate. It is strange how my own troubles helped me to think of the country. I wonder if the country, who we lovingly refer to as ‘Mother India’ feels the same at this moment.
There are days that feel terribly wrong I wander aimlessly, a lonely soul in the throng My peace and sanity plundered I grieve the demise of being understood. At times such as these, I float over, like a cloud - To keep my vigil, I've vowed, To maintain my calm, in the din And to not let the madness in I remind myself my purpose I must not steer away from the course I wonder if it's worth the pain, the sacrifice- Doubts rise like vapor - are these mere words, sweet lies? My confidence - I hear it creak when slippery tongues havoc wreak lashing out like fierce whips So sharp - my heartbeat skips. Melancholy fills my heart, 'Where did I go wrong?' A quiet voice within me says, 'Now's the time to be strong-' 'They're breaking through hard ground Don't you, get yourself wound. Let your love endlessly pour And show them you still have loads in store- to help, strengthen their wings And to deflect their barbs and stings For you are the cloud that stashes, away the tears, and washes - away the muck and the dirt You are the only one who can quench their thirst. So Mamma, oh Mamma, stay strong And have faith - your teaching shan't go wrong.' It'll not be long before they find their way home; so,Mamma stay strong
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Eúnoia 
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