What if I die tomorrow?
I think this with my open eyes;
a crowd of mourning tomorrow
will gather and mutter things,
good and only good about me
even if they don't care about me, today.
When they leave after the mourning
people with whom my life is tied
will stay back, now my eyes are shut
for they have no courage to see
two little faces searching for me
and the faces I love most, but
they may fill the void eventually.
My soul will be haunted with the promise,
I made to those little hearts
to be with them on all odds
to recite stories at night
to embrace them in secure bosom
when they feel bitter
to scold them with love
when they dither
and stray away from my love
to make them owners of an honest life.
What if i die tomorrow?
I shudder at this thought
for who will then know
every little thoughts from
those tender hearts, strongly
entwined with mine?
