It's been seven months Mother, and
this world is new,
all the things once normal, now
number in few.
We're still allowed to express-
grief, love and pain,
but not without a mask, and
certainly from a distance.
So I'm unsure if anything really has
changed,
what hasn't, I'm sure, is the sound
of your name.
We've been waiting for a vaccine,
waiting for some cure,
wishing it'd come before you arrived
at our door.
Because you, Mother, bring out the
children in us;
all the reckless, the careless, the
shebang and the rush.
I woke up on Mahalaya to the sound
of your beats,
to an ageless story that I dare not
miss,
And I prayed to your powers for this
enemy to fall,
for the foe this time is dangerously
small.
The streets, this year, won't be
crawling the same,
the pandals this year, would be low
on shine,
so the ones that visit your homes
this year,
will look at you after a very long
time.
A lot of lives have been lost
mother, so many families undone,
Parents and elders all gone in a
flash, while helpless stood their daughters and sons.
So give us your strength, your
patience and might,
to stand the test of this timeless
fight,
for in the midst of this global
pandemic,
all we believe in, is the strength
of your magic.
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