In my mother’s arms,
every puff of her breathe is a lullaby
the silken rustle of cloth upon her bosom is a lullaby
the occasional tickles from her long silky hair, that fall on me when she lowers her face to kiss me, is a lullaby
her every little touch is a lullaby
every single syllable that twitters out from her is a lullaby
she takes me up into her arms, gently rocking me to either side, a lullaby
she takes me by my soft, floral designed shirt and whooooosh!!! swings me into the air, a lullaby
she feeds me with such care that even getting fed from her is a lullaby
she takes me to the tub, puddles me into it and splaaaaash!!! the water gently sweeping me, a lullaby
Mother, Mother….lullabies all along childhood.
But wait, these were true lullabies. Lullabies from Mother herself!
But there are jerks again, kids or people from neighborhood who came to play with me, an 8 month old baby.
he takes me up into his hands, “Aarrgh..you work in mines eh? “
he smiles at me first and then i look at his teeth, “Yeeeeww..you ain’t seen white color ever?”
he then tries to imitate my mom’s lullaby, tries to swing me up and does that a little hard, “gooosh! you showing ur strength on me, an 8 month old baby?”
well yea, he was the neighbor living next door, says he is fond of children, “aah, you would kill them with your fondness”
and haaa, there is this 8 year old, the above one’s son, “that ruffian!”
he comes to mom and says “aunt! can i take little tyke to the park?”
and mom says “yes boy, careful.”
And there we go all the way to the park, ” aaah dude, i am on your shoulders, remember? don’t hop like a kangaroo, your shoulder bones are killing me”
he just does what his father did, tries to swing me up, the flight up was fine but when i landed, “curse you.. i ain’t any flying paper to catch in air and get crumbled, idiot!”
and then he sits on the swing, starts with small swings and then makes for big ones and laughs as if that’s funny,
“curse you again foool.im just 8 months, fooool!! these big swings frighten me..!!”
and then again, he takes me into his hands, frowns his eyebrows, puts out his tongue, and makes some contorted sounds, “eerr.. dude, was that supposed to be a lullaby? i think i should call your mom and tell her you are..err..having convulsions”
see the stark contrast between mother’s lullaby and others’ ?
I tell you, next time when someone tries to take you in their arms for a lullaby, just cry to hell, let mother take you back. Oh well, all my co-8 month olds, beware, horrible lullabies do exist.
Stay with mother and save yourselves from them. 🙂