Agony and Atonement

;Agony and Atonement
P K Routray
Often peep in me
with childhood gratitude and glee
a deed fulfilling then my fancied desire
dreamt, longed, cherished to acquire
a colored pencil half red and half blue
which our teachers possessed to correct our answer sheets with different hue.
Twenty miles away from the village was the closest town market.
Whosoever was going there I used to request him such pencil to get.
But they ignored, forgot or did not heed my request.
All my waiting and prayers for the joy on their return always did melt
But I had a black Grandma related as auntie to my father
seven generations back in the family tree we originated from the same forefather
Though separated since generations but in one housing complex we stayed together
each family earning its livelihood and cooking separately for its own member.
Over the generations some had become poor for some reason or other
but the family bondage though on wane but still held us together.
To call her as black Grandma was taught to us from our infancy
it was a name insulting to her but given by some elders to make fun at her out of fancy.
I called her so as because my elder brother called by such a name
she had accepted it without any hesitation, distaste or blame.
She was poor as her own in-laws and husband had spent much in luxury.
Opium, rich dietary, aristocracy in living did the robbery.
With her iron will endurance she was able to pull on
pushing her opium addicted husband to earn without looking to family icon.
Once she fell ill and had to go to the town for medication
she had hardly any money and to stay with at town they had none.
After fifteen days or so she came back recovering from her illness
with the pencil for me to my utter delight, which for long I did proudly possess.
When she was in deathbed I was earning and was capable to spend something for her
though I was grateful of her love but to take her care during her need I proved my failure utter.
Now when the days have gone and will never come back I repent for my ungratefulness
I only can long to kiss the dusts of her feet begging her pardon and punishment for the lapses.
To meet my both ends with burden of service, self and family I erred, I repent.
Hey God! Bless her soul with peace and bliss and relieve me of my agony, I pray for the atonement.
The cost of the pencil might have been a meager pie but to me as a child it appeared as a million
honored she my dream and sentiment despite her poverty and illness but during her need, to her I was none.

Author's Comments:
It is a true story in my life. I wanted to pay tribute to the illiterate lady who happens to be my grand mother- my father's auntie.
I beg apology for the length as i could not shorten to convey my heart out.