A Mother’s Plea
Please don’t photograph. The cold feetof my baby withered blue petals. I will rub her feet and tickle her ghungroo*—she may open her eyes. I will part her mouth, feed her halwa—she may ask for more. No, I will let her sleep so vultures won’t follow her to heaven.Please don’t photograph; flashes will wake her. Sleep, my baby, sleep. *a… Read more →