Me – The Mother

 

Who but me can feel,
What I feel…
As I unlock my heart –
Needing your nearness.
Who but me can realize,
How little emotion is left in me…
Though I am a mother!
Considering what you are imagining
Of me –
I will repeat again –
I am a mother.
But, what do I do with this title?
This empty tag of a phrase staring at me,
Simply torching my soul.
I go inside myself – like you go
Inside a mosque, or a church,  
Or a temple –
To find some answers.
Today, I am afraid and relieved –
To share my dread with you.
Oh! I have watched ‘them’ –
My brood wrenching my core!

 

Alike me…
I know the position of many mothers –
Dragged into endless gossip and scandals.
Are you surprised at my words?
Alike me…
I’ve sometimes felt their hearts cooking
On a kerosene stove.
Or, on some days –
The situation of these mothers hauls them
To the most cruel elements of isolation.
Oftentimes, they feel like, lepers.
Their feelings are reminders of leathery stumps –
All numb and artless and hideous –
Showing shameful cuts and septic wounds.
Do I know the feeling?
I know the feeling!
That formless chaos of humiliation,
Brought upon the reputation of –
Rejected and dejected mothers.
My conscience compels me to weep
In pain –
For the term: Mother! Mother!

 

What do you think are the lessons learnt by –
A grieving mother?
A disappointed mother?
A perceptive mother?
No matter what –
A mother must always evolve!
She is Maa, Mai, Madre
The symbol of love and steadfastness –
Determined to guide her progeny.
She is well-regarded in holy scriptures.
Don’t forbid me to tell you all –
The universe was created by Him –
Who sourced the light of life:
Out of a mother’s womb!
Considering what you are imagining of me,
I will repeat again and again –
Though – my heart is cooking on a kerosene stove!
Though – my own sadness drags me to utter despair!
I will try rising from the abyss – once more!
Climbing high to get by hurdles.
You know why?
I am Maa, Mai, Madre.

 

 

27th December 2013
Dubai

                          


Geeta Chhabra


 
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