Teach me again by holding the finger,
Give me in your lap mother,
Wipe my mouth with your dress .
You are this whole world of mine.
Whenever I used to get wounded, your eyes used to brim with tears.
With one gentle blow of wind from your mouth, all my pains used to disappear.
In every talk of yours, I would find the solution to all my problems.
The bread made by your hands, I used to eat more than my actually hunger.
Holding the corner of your saree, I used to sleep without any worries.
You smiled when I smiled, you cried when I cried.
I'm a part of you. I'm a tale of yours.