Nov 19, 2010

A Poem on Mother

My mamma she’s a good woman,
& I can say the same for daddy
In order to make ends meet,
She made the choice to marry
Though she isn’t admitting it, she treats it like a job
Where she comes from, it’s what she learnt
She saw no other way out
As a little girl, we fought a lot
I called her ugly names & what not
Though she hurt real bad & it made her kind of sad
She always listened patiently,
Hoping that I would one day learn
To see the world with empathy
Through the years, even as my resentment grew
She knew one day I’d see her point of view
From toys to boys, through the tears and the lies
and behavior that was particularly strange
She’d laugh it off, telling family and staff
It’s what rebellious children tend to do
I often saw her crying, seldom saw her grieving
Living with a sense of hope, always believing
Wiping my tears through all the names I called her
Quelling my fears, through the tricks fate played on her
I never sensed she was having a rough timE
Engrossed as I was, in the movie of my life
Now my time has come, to give her something back,
She’s a proud woman, says there’s nothing she lacks,
What she did for us, all mamma’s do for their own
She can put up her feet, now that we have grown
She wants to enjoy the pitter patter of tiny little feet
I know the time has come, for me to take her seat
My mamma she’s a good woman,
& mamma I’d like to thank you,
for all the things in life you couldn’t do.
for the woman you turned me into.
for all the love you put inside of me,
for gifting me my destiny
Mamma, today, I feel honoured to tell you
 I’m proud of walking in your shoes.

  ----  Suchitra Krishnamurthy about her mother


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