Amma it's you who makes me speechless.
Everything I speak is scripted and edited by you.
You felt me when I was just a cell.
You are still shielding me, making the world which I see your womb.
I don't have to utter what I need and what's bothering me.
I wonder how can those bangles soothe my beating nerves.
Everyday is a Mother's Day as my day starts with you voice either high pitched or low.
My words to describe you are just small grains in the heap of sand.
Amma I love.