A Tribute to my Mom, Sara, a Great Poetess, by Dr Mary Annie A.V.
Sara (1930 -1994) was the maiden name of my mother who was also Omanakutty Abraham and Mrs Omanakutty Varghese after marriage to all who knew her.
She was the one who taught us to read and write. She put the love of writing into us. As a result I penned my first poem at the age of 5 and went on to win the Shanker’s International prize for it.
My brothers Ampat Koshy, Avy Varghese and the lesser known A.V.Abraham (who did not pursue writing) were also recipients of the coveted prize.
She brought out a book of poems simply titled Poems, dedicated to her grandchildren in 1988. Her book was priced Rs.15/- and sold only a very few copies among friends and relatives.
At that time her only grandchildren were my eldest daughter, Femi K Sam, who was barely a year old and Arielle Sara Varghese, my eldest brother’s daughter, a few months old.
In addition to this, she had earlier published two Bible Quiz books. A book of poems and short stories remains unpublished as does a book in Malayalam on painters and paintings from the Renaissance period.
I always admired her spirit and it influenced me a lot. I owe all of my writing skills to her. Though she passed away in 1994, for me it is as if she never left. No one has been able to influence me later, either.
She was highly possessive of us, I realize it was because she loved us too much. She was loving, kind and sacrificed a lot for us to see we had the best of everything.
Sangeeta Suneja, while chatting to me the other day said she would like to read my mother’s poems. And I replied that I would post them as a tribute to her. For days now I have been pondering about it and here it is.
All her poems are unique, short and crisp. Here are some. None of them were titled.
Poems by Sara
Distance – that’s all
that exists between
you and me.
Distance – that’s all
that I saw in everything
I came across.
Distance – I adore thee.
They say it twinkles.
between six and six-thirty
there, at the doorstep
I see that dull face
It adds to my sorrows
I loathe it
Yet, one day, when I
stood there, it looked
brighter than usual.
Neither grey hair
Nor old age Brings death nearer.
It’s the sting in the heart
the deeper, the earlier.
Knot from behind
Round the neck
Not a noose
A house full.
Shivers from inside
I need a wrapper
“those who have two
give to the other.”
A thousand colours
A spread on the horizon.
© Sara, from the collection, ‘Poems’,1988.
Her facebook page created by her daughter Dr. Mary Annie A.V.
“The more I read my mother’s poems the more I am awed by their pithiness, imagery, music, figures of speech, meaning and perfection. Her poems will not die, as the works of such a master poetess cannot. As Emily Dickinson’s live on, hers will too.”
Dr. Koshy A.V.
Article Written By Dr Mary Annie A.V.
© Dr Mary Annie A.V 2015