They said she was lucky when she was born,
For in the ninth house was the sun,
the stars in planet patterns and the moon.
They qued, crowded within but far wrong,
The horoscope was strong
For may be twelve hour long.
Then steely life caught on-
From dishevelled dawn to fiery morn
Unkempt dusk was rumour driven.
When I was a kid, she sang for me a lullaby
Retreat in the kitchen- walls soot filled shabby
Companied by coarse concerns so flabby.
Blowing coconut and coal, she sang of joy
With a tear drop in her eye,
Looked at me so hopefully
I just wanted to grow up
To help her.
In my youth, I heard her story
Amidst rice and fish curry
To me it was pathetic history.
There was truth all writ there
I heard with fear the grandeur of yesteryear
I waited for fictitious rice, murmurs and more.
May be the stars will return to her
Long before it is late by far.