Mammamia

It’s been 12 years since I became a mother but it still perplexes me at every turn. There have been times when I prided at task as simple as making the kids eat their meal and had shed tears cos the kid can’t spell a simple word. Lot of times I had questioned myself, what am I doing?

When I was a carefree teenager with absolutely no commitments, eating off my parent’s money, my dear mother had stated “being a mother is tough”. I had mocked at her and brushed it aside saying it’s no big deal. Little did I know those were the words of wisdom that warned me by an experienced matron.

Well here I am, not with one but two ‘adorable’ kids. Yeah, a title given by family and friends. Children are cute as long as they don’t belong to you. I became a mother with my first born and an umpire with my second. Why didn’t my mother warn about this role reversal? Many nights I had pondered over this. It’s like I am stuck between two warring nations, trying to sign a peace treaty. If I make the mistake of supporting one, then I am accused of loving him more. When I frantically summon for the third umpire, he slips out of the house in the pretext to buy something.

Sometimes I’ve a feeling that the elves are working against me. The neatly arranged kids’ wardrobe are in shambles the next day. The more I clean the house, the messier it becomes. It’s like a hurricane had just passed by. Those times I had wished to be Samantha from ‘Bewitched’ and all I had to do was to wriggle my nose and everything would fly back to their places.

My husband wanted 11 kids of his own to create a cricket team, until our second one started bowling. Living on the top floor It was nightmare. Every day I prayed for the soul, who may be standing underneath our window. Suddenly everything in my house had the ability to fly out. From kitchen ladles to toys to tv remote. It was the ‘terrible two’ phase. I tried wriggling my nose, but alas nothing happened. As Milton said, “Better to reign in hell”. Even hell seemed heavenly to me.

Now, in my glorious age with a more matured self and a sharpened wisdom, a realisation dawns on me. The knowledge that my wise mother had imparted, had all the answers to my questions. May be motherhood is not so easy, but it’s the best thing I’ve ever done. When I get those bear hugs, I love you’s, and raspberry kisses, it makes me want to do it all over again. Not that I will!

Thank u google for clip art.

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woman-she is

Then there she is

ready to take a step with her beliefs,

wiped her tears with a fearful heart

like a phoenix she rose from her mottled scars.

She spirited away loneliness for she will grieve no more,

She twirled over her challenges for she will hide nor fold.

Her ebullient spirit ignited her passion,

heaved her sighs to a mad laugh,

peering over the horizon she tightened her locks.

There, she is ready for you

Oh world! Standing amidst

STRONGER than ever

Her unfettered spirit liberated

 when she became one with her mind, body and soul,

for she is proud to be born a woman.

 

Woman

 

As a lone traveller I stood on the beach

With the waves curling my feet

Sands giving away underneath

burying them deep.

The evening rays cast its warm light,

glistening my hidden tears from sight

 the inebriated wind swept away my locks,

revealing the scars of an epoch.

Whose fault was it?

The wind whispered, “your’s”

“for being born a woman”.

letting her go

                    Waves were lapping at our feet,

                     teasing my little one for a retreat.

                     She looks into my eyes,

                     Let me go, see the world that lies

                     beyond this horizon where the sun dips,

                     to feel and see what sinks,

                     But I held her tight with fear

                     And not let the world near.

                    Her curious small almond eyes

                    looked at me to let go

                    and I did it with a quivering smile.

what’s the rush?

            What’s the rush?

            Stop! Wait, look and listen,

            Break the shackles of this prison,

            Life is passing by

            What’s the rush?

           Take a moment to breathe,

           Savour the scent of life replete,

           Before life passes by

           What’s the rush?

            Hear her call you!

           Why is she so blue?

           A melancholic sight indeed

           Cause she just passed by.