Another playing, the child wants it,
With his new football, in winter day time,
He takes the ball, and wants to go
To nearby meadow, with other children,
He softly calls his mother, “Come.”
His voice sounds sweet in cool weather.
His mother does not want it,
She wants to get his son sleep for a rest,
As the child is much in labor
And now requires rest, after taking day meal,
She has also to take bath and supper, too.
The child begins crying not being allowed to play.
The child weeps profusely,
His intention is not met, mother is angry,
What is playing in his mind becomes somber,
His skeleton body quivers, not being in cool,
Mother takes the toddler forcefully,
The child is still to learn talking full.
His crying is full with vigor,
His willingness will never reach to others,
And none is there to make the child open
With playing as winning game
He is alone in the world,
He is not independent to go outside.
He cannot be desperate, not having commiserate,
He keeps himself in lap of mother,
The ball falls from his little hands,
Not able to get escape over tight grip.
Mother is determined to make the child sleep,
Sleeping of the child gives her spell for working and the rest.
Crying of the child gets feeble,
And being tired, he feels sleepy,
The world of mother becomes open
Duty and familial work find path
For crimson passage, child’s intention
For playing another time gets dock without joy.