When skies slowly turns blue
I will be polishing my son’s shoe
You know, it rained awfully last afternoon,
But sun rose soon
Oh what a day?
To my man, I’ll have nothing to say
I was to dry his shirt which I just washed
But the overwhelming droplets that recently gushed
spoilt my day
In a bad way;
He is an angry man
Who drives a caravan,
Now what will I say?
For, he might be on his way.
His arrogance once killed my unborn kid,
And now I see the cigarette he just lit,
Oh! He’s on my door.
He will abuse me, call me a wh*re!
Because his shirt was washed and wet
He’ll now abuse, compare me with the women he just met;
Oh! What a life?
He never considered me his wife,
Now I want someone to call my own,
Or just want to go away from home,
I want a child to ease my fright,
I don’t know why I can’t fight for my right.
It again rained and it was dark
And here I was skulked to hear him bark
I ready with my dagger opened the door,
Without a sound I killed, leaving him on the floor
Now I live in tranquility and my womb fiddles with joy
After 9 months I gave birth to a baby boy.
Who’s now wedded a woman from the East;
And looking for love I faded in the mist,
I am no longer a wife or a mother
I now wish that I had a brother.
Such is my fate
That is filled with hate,
Unthought-of it when vermilion was tinged on my forehead;
I sadly give up and consider them dead
A husband, a son, their gender, males!
With their memories, my every attempt to live, fails.
An elegy written on mother’s day. My typical thoughts based on some Indian mothers who face such predicaments in their life.