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Uma Daga | June 24, 2021

Her eyes wandered lonely and void,

The skin was wrought and dry.

She spoke less and looked beyond,

Before her heart leapt at the smallest sound.


I watched her from afar.

I knew her wait,

As she kept staring at the gate.

The last bus that passed had got no news.


Your son is on his way, I wanted to say,

But I kept mum – what if he chose to delay?

Moments turn into hours, hours into days

This wait is one that’s not be swayed.


Come hither,

Come now.

Oh son!

Your mom just sang your vow.

Uma Daga

Uma is a nature lover by birth, life enthusiast by choice, and a content strategist and writer by profession. As a freelance content developer and editor, Uma has worked with several international and domestic clients like the United States Embassy, Infoanalytica, Ezdia, Enventure, and the Aditya Birla Group, among many others.


Uma loves travelling, making friends, reading, housekeeping and learning new skills. She lives in Jalpaiguri – far from the maddening crowds – in the lap of nature and says, “You have to meet and spend time with me to understand why I am the way I am!”

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