Maa. The word says it all.

Do you remember those lazy mornings, mumma, when you'd be struggling hard to push me out of the bed?
Do you remember those times when you'd fight with me to make me have my glass of milk?
Do you remember those days when you'd drop me at the bus stop and kiss me goodbye?
Do you remember those afternoons when i'd be knocking at the door and you would come and take my bag off my shoulders?
Do you remember those lunches that we used to have together and you'd simply smile at my talks? Do you remember those naps that were usually broken by my forceful study sessions?
Do you remember those sunsets, the chirping birds and the smell of those flowers in the garden?
Do you remember those nights that were filled with the aliveness of your angelic voice and hymns and the softness of your touch that'd take me off to a peaceful sleep?

Because, mumma, I miss them. I miss those mornings, evenings and nights.
I miss you, mumma, when I wake up in the morning to find myself alone and away from your tender shelter.
I miss you when im not scolded for not eating.
I miss you I go and come back all by myself.
I miss you when I try to learn and study things.
I miss you when the sun's setting, the flowers are blooming and the chirping birds are going back home and im not.
I miss you after the sun's gone and it's dark everywhere.
But, mumma, I miss you the most in times like these, when the sky is dark, the moon is shining up there and is looking at these tears in my eyes.
When all I need is your affectionate lap to rest my head and your gentle shoulders to hide myself and your watchful fingers to wipe my tears.
I miss the aura of your nurturing presence.
I miss the grace of your comforting touch.

Maa, im afraid to go further away from you, im scared to grow up. Today, with this eclipsed darkness around and these heavy eyelids, im simply stranded in the middle of the night, miles away from you, sobbing quietly and wondering, where, when and why did my blessed childhood go?