Krishna, my son

Come my dear friends quietly and see my darling son
He sleeps sweetly not knowing of hearts he has stolen

Can you not see the dried tears beneath his collyrium eyes
For I caught him red-handed when stealing butter kept at highs

Are you interested to know how he troubles me the whole day
Listen carefully how he makes me dance in his own way

I ask him to drink milk from the cup without any spill
He nods his head innocently only to draw maps of milk with his quill

I catch his hand carefully to give him bath nicely
Instead he splashes water all over drenching me completely

I hold his black face softly to apply collyrium for his little eyes
Instead he paints my fair face black as he rubs his with his cries

I decorate him patiently to see my dearest look beautiful
Instead he soils them quickly, yet he does not look awful

I take him to the balcony to teach him about birds and sky
Yonder he looks at my face lovingly as if he is very shy

I enter into the kitchen to cook food for my beauty
He catches me from behind never allowing me to perfect my duty

I feed him with my hands with lots of love and affection
He swallows not quickly and makes me sit in front of him in tension

I try to gulp my food very fast standing in a corner before he comes
He finds somehow and pesters me to play with him leaving all chores

I go for my bath after patting him on his back for a good nap
He gives me a shock when I return, by pouring ghee on his lap

I clean the house meticulously to look shining and tidy
He creates a storm thus turning the house totally messy

I mop the floor quickly fearing my sweetheart might fall down
He splashes flour from my back to make me look like a clown

I take my lovely boy out to my friends’ place with all pride
He embarrasses me with naughtiness only to end up in deride

I try to concentrate on books to learn something new
He runs out to my arms to demand attention due

I sit for prayers with my little love beside me to learn
He laughs and laughs uproariously forcing me to be stern

I want to offer flowers to the Lord by making them a garland
To my dismay, he grabs from my hand only to garland himself with his own hand

I want to listen to the music with eyes closed to enjoy its essence
He blows his flute near my ears making me lose all sense

I practise and practise to imprint my dear son on a paper
He tears all my hard work apart only to look at my face later

I manage to write a poem on his beauty and pranks
He tiptoes to scribble on them only to explain his cranks

I ask him to learn something from others fruitfully
He laughs all the time ignoring my laments gleefully

I sing his favourite lullaby to put him to a good night sleep
He asks many questions about his black skin with a weep

I better stop with this as the list goes endless
He accuses me sometimes as if I care for him less

Are you all going through the same phase just like me
Or am I the only one to struggle with this boy who acts like a bee

I am deceived every time by his sweetness and matchless looks
As my heart is full of love for my only one who is full of wits

Do not advise me to whack my little boy for his naughtiness
As he is my heart and soul to lead this life in happiness

I am thoroughly broken with his pranks, so I cry helplessly
He silently kisses on my cheeks and embraces me with all love tightly

Sshhh.., let us disperse quickly for he may wake up by our noise
Let me also pray to the Lord to correct my child and give him poise

Oh! What a fool am I! Is he not my Lord with the flute whom I pray
Yet I have all the right to keep him in my fold till I lay