A Mother’s Silence

I sent you my son
Not with anger,
Not with hate,
But with hope carefully folded into his bag.

I gave the nation my blessings,
My prayers, and the quiet courage of a mother,
Who learns to smile while her heart shakes.

I offered more than flags and slogans.
I offered sleepless nights,
Countless goodbyes,
And the child who once slept on my chest,
Listening to my heartbeat
Before he learned the sound of gunfire.

You asked for bravery,
I gave you his youth.
You asked for duty,
I gave you his future.
You asked for sacrifice,
I gave you my only son.

He died far from home,
On a road I will never walk,
Under a sky that did not know his name.
They say he was fearless.
But I remember
How he feared storms as a boy,
How he laughed too loudly,
How he called me “Amma”
Even as a soldier.

Now, medals sleep in a wooden box.
The uniform hangs, untouched.
The flag lies folded,
Neat, respectful,
Too light for the weight it carries.

You call him a hero.
I call him my child.

The world moved on.
The news changed.
Speeches ended.
But time stopped
The day his boots did not return to the door.

At night,
I still set aside an extra plate.
Habit is crueller than memory.
Silence sits where his voice once lived.

Tell me, country,
When you say war against terror,
Do you hear mothers cry in the dark?
Do you count the cost?
Beyond numbers and headlines?

I gave you everything I had.
Please do not ask me for pride.
Let me keep my tears.

If peace ever comes,
Let it remember the names.
Written only on gravestones
And in a mother’s heart.