A mother’s loss

Wake up my child, my wee bundle of joy

Wake up my heart, my breath, my boy.

Wake up now for the world is calling

Wake up now as my hopes are falling.

 

Wake up now and cry out aloud

Wake up, my baby, make me a mum proud.

Wake up this instant as time is slipping by

Wake up as my despair is now making me cry.

 

Alas, the time to wake up has now gone

I lost you, my firstborn, my son.

Sleep well now in the arms of angels

You are free of all of life’s travails.

 

 

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About Sonal Singh

An author, storyteller, and full-time observer of life’s glorious absurdities. I write humour-laced stories where chaos wears fluffy fur, emotions arrive uninvited, and middle-class Indian households become ecosystems of drama, love, and unsolicited advice. Armed with sarcasm, caffeine, and alarming emotional attachment to stray creatures, I believe compassion is less of a virtue and more of a lifestyle disorder. One that I embrace. When I’m not writing, I’m usually busy running a full-time HR consultancy business, rescuing animals, or trying to maintain dignity while being emotionally manipulated by my pets. Through my literary work, I try to blend humour with heart, celebrating the messy coexistence of humans and non-humans in modern urban India.

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