Simran Bhushan
Eighty five years, but still watching the burning flame,
The flame flickered in the mere darkness each time I blinked at same.
It doesn't just holds my grief and desire,
But each time in life I quit and aspire.
"Remember each time you laughed and cried",
The burning flame asked me to abide.
"Oh flame! My memories have all slipped,
But I see you remember all where my shadows whipped."
"That was so long back", said the flame,
And I recalled the age of love and pain.
The time I held my parents hand till,
putting flowers on their picture frame.
"Yes, I burned on their farewell day,
My little girl's tears entwined along her pray."
"The home was quiet but only I remain,
That night was dark and the pillows concealed tears stain."
"Oh flame, take me beneath more years when life was blessed,
The time dad made me eat and mom got me dressed."
"Close your eyes and trust my thoughts,
There's more to life, and its lots."
"Soul is a flame that never dies,
Trust me, wipe tears as they watch us down the skies."
"Oh flame, my hands shiver and skin all wrinkled,
But once I played in farms where the sunrays sparked and night sky twinkled."
"Yes, I remember all" said the flame with joy,
And took me back when dad bought me my first toy.
"I flickered when your mom made rotis over me,
And when dad burned me in lantern hung next to the key."
"I saw their glances set in smile of your eyes,
This was their little world with no cries."
"I still cry missing them", I said with my old sore gaze,
"I'm still their little girl lost in a haze."