One afternoon when I was three years old.

The pleasant winds of my life turned the other way.

We were five siblings, all under the age of twelve.

When my mother’s feet slipped,

Fell into a ravine.

This would lead to a spinal fracture.

 She died after six months in hospital.

 There were a sea of ​​tears in my eyes.

My eyelids were the shore.

Tears would fall on my cheeks after hitting the shore of eyes.

The face that my mother loved,

was full of tears.

Sighs and cries could be heard everywhere۔

The word “mother” was sweet to the tongue.

This deficiency cannot be met even by eating 70,000 honey.

We hugged our mother’s dead body and cried.

The entity that wouldn’t let me out of sight for a second.

Those eyes closed forever.

All joys had turned to sorrows.

The shroud was put on and then the body was taken to the graveyard.

After the funeral,

The grave was opened for burial.

The mother was taken to the grave.

We stood on the edge of the grave, sobbing and tears in our eyes.

The mother’s face was covered with mud.

All the people returned to their homes.

Because of the burden of grief,

 It was difficult to speak.

Life without a mother seemed colourless.

                                                    ~ Muhammad Ishaq Abbasi

                                                         Pakistan