A steaming cup of coffee,
That many mom’s drink,
I add a few drops of rum,
Does that make me stink?
Roses and teddy bears are not my things,
Instead take me to a valley of flowers that brings me thrills,
I love machines over cuteness,
For freedom it means,
Petals wither and fur fluffs,
I wear a wrist band,
Bigger are my ear cuffs.
The skull printed tee I wear is the only truth,
Though I am different, I bear a sweet fruit.
My child is a wonderful gift from God,
But most forget the open sky and dewy wind also belong to the Lord.
My hair is shorter than short,
Only my kid thinks that I look hot,
Other aunties raise their brow,
My kid runs to me, hugs me and says “Mom, you are wow!”
I ride bikes,
And love those hikes,
I’d teach my kid not to fear the dark,
Instead of taking him to a park.
I know I am not like you moms,
I am different,
I see life beyond the norms.
I pay a price for being different,
My kid’s father thinks I lack affection.
A story I tell of a lion and a mouse,
I had ridden him to his parents’ house,
His mom had checked if he was gay,
“How can he want a woman with hair like hay?”
I had heard his father shout,
“How can we tell the world about her?”
It’s easy, just do it with your mouth.
“Ah! Did you hear that? This lady answers back”.
I can’t be coy and shy,
It’s something that I lack,
I hadn’t meant to be rude,
My motto in life is to keep it simple,
And I just happen to wear that as my attitude.
It’s her and no one else he quip,
Come on sonny get ready for the dip,
“We shall say you are an auto mobile engineer”,
For a garage mechanic as a bride,
Shall bring to shambles our family pride
.A couple of years later,
My kids father has another,
My culinary skills are weak I presume,
But navigation techniques are on my resume.
I content with spaghetti and spring rolls,
My kids father just doesn’t get it all,
I had bought him a cook book and paid his mobile bill,
He can play phone games and cook his favourite desi meal.
He thought that wasn’t nice,
I ask “Why can’t you cook for yourself?” I don’t understand the prejudice.
He growled “Why can’t you be like our neighbours wife?”
“Why should I? She wants to be me in her next life”
I don’t serve him hot food,
Does it mean that I am not good?
He says I was a wrong choice,
“Ouch!” that hurts, he doesn’t seem to realise.
I don’t fight or cry
,Does that mean my feelings are dry?I’d rather bum a smoke,
And think all this shit as a joke.
He wants me to pack away my leather jacket,
It costs less than a diamond locket,
I know our income bracket,
For an expensive gift I have never thrown a racket.
He doesn’t understand my love,
I still smell him every morning,
My emotions are well above,
I maybe different,
But I am still a mom and a wife,
I believe in the almighty,
Nothing much is left except,
To pray for better luck next life.