The Mother - By Siliveru Arun Kumar
Written By: Siliveru Arun Kumar
Category: Poetry
Competition: Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026
Siliveru Arun Kumar presents a deeply moving piece, "The Mother," as part of the Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 by Hashtag Kalakar. This competition provides a platform for voices from all over the world to share their unique expressions. Arun Kumar's poem falls under the category of Poetry and explores the profound themes of loss and the eternal bond between a mother and child, resonating with poignant emotional depth.
About the Work
"The Mother" is a heart-wrenching exploration of grief and maternal love. The poem is rich with vivid imagery and a lyrical quality that captures the raw anguish of a mother mourning her son. The narrative voice is powerful, portraying a spectrum of emotions from denial to acceptance, and the desire for reunion beyond death. The work is marked by its intense emotional resonance and evocative language, painting a somber yet beautiful picture of love and loss.
The Mother
Original Submission by Siliveru Arun Kumar
No, he not died! No, he not!
Just a shut-eye of a body worn-out.
Get the hell out! You all are-
Kilo of mutton you bring for my son.
Long time since he came home.
Just him miss, my hand's food.
Fleet you fast! Stood there a noose like-
I feed my dish on his open-eye.
Mad, you all are! Not say he died.
Lord! Murderer you are!
Look at my son, flat on the pyre.
Shame on you, flat on the gold.
I Curse you! That gold melts
On your palms, that molten drips
Till you wail, like he wailed.
Torn my womb, thief of breath you!
I shall rip the sky; stand before me!
Strangle I thee with my hands,
Which plead plus worshipped thee.
Too young to bear this, weep, my son.
For the wood-bites you bear, weep, my son!
Weep for the charring, thy skin is bearing,
For the cotton blocking thy nose, gasp, my son!
My blood cord's mourning, for thy navel burning.
My lips are parching, for thy feet scorching.
Heart so heavy, filled with agony,
Pulling me down, maybe the earth.
No means of life telling me it:
"Surrender your bones to your empty womb."
Please leave a sign of breath, my son,
Or make a room for my bones to rack with yours.
To these flames, let us be the shared fuel.
Lay on my lap, son, and together we burn,
Till our ashes drown in the falling rain,
And drift away through the silent lakes.
Bestow me a boon, my Lord!
To take my son back into my belly.
In my womb I will carry,
And guard my son, as in my old days:
Till my face warps to a crumpled page,
Till my soles are textured to a drought land,
Till my belly sags to my feet,
Till my backbone bends to a hunter's bow,
Till my soul no longer bears my body.
Missing his blood flow, grieved my palms.
"My blood is his," whispered high I.
Then took I a silver blade, sharp razor-like,
Seeking my blood's blood that death extorted.
Straight in the middle, cut I my palm.
Felt his blood, of a deep red.
To my feet had slithered he,
Even from the heaven’s height;
My son sought only me.
About the Competition
The Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 by Hashtag Kalakar celebrates diverse voices in literature, offering a prestigious platform for writers and poets to showcase their talents. This esteemed event encourages creativity and innovation in storytelling and poetry, inviting participants from across the globe to contribute their original works and engage with a vibrant community of artists.
We extend our heartfelt gratitude to Siliveru Arun Kumar for sharing "The Mother" with us. This evocative piece adds depth and emotion to the Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. Thank you, Arun Kumar, for your contribution to the world of poetry and for allowing us to share in your poignant expression.
About Hashtag Kalakar
Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.



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