OUR RIVER ; MY MOTHER VII

My child - hood memory of our river
ooocan - wide ; holding my mother's hand
on the otherside the sky kissing the horizon thin
on our side ; coconut and mango-tops
shaking their head and leaves, -like un-ruley child
on nid-blue sky, the renouncing cloud , on all white rpbe
while the mid-river boats with happy-sail singing loud
and on our side, the play-ful waves teasing the dancing boats
and I waiting in joyous trance - transfixed
holding my mother's hand !
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The poem was the later product of reminiscence of my child-hood joy (written later in early fifties). In 1947 , our mother- land was divided into two , by cruel hands of post-war political play declaring and labelling us -'refugees.
and forcing on us the condition of seeking shelter on the other part and we had to migrate to calcutta of West Bengal!.