Your hair is short, make it long 

Make it long and lustrous and shiny 

I obliged  

You know, straight smooth hairs give solace to my eyes 

Yours like a jungle, make it smooth 

Make it smooth, for me. 

For me. 

Why do you run around, can’t you act a bit mature 

You need to be mature enough, for me. 

Waddling around the hallway, talking like a kid 

And carrying bags big enough to fit a life-sized human model 

I don’t like it 

C’mon, change it …..

And to all these things, I obliged. 

I obliged because I thought 

Things were supposed to be that way, 

After all, people who care, always think good, right? 

But as I grew captivated, little by little through your talks 

That changed sides each day 

Like grandpa flicking for his news channel 

My mind …

My mind could do nothing but ; 

Go down to that staggering earthquake of mental turmoil.

How you had the fantasy of sweeping someone off your feet 

How small girls were adorable 

How big bosoms and hips were appealing 

I felt ;

I felt I wasn’t good enough. 

The way you asked 

Why aren’t you like that? 

That day 

I started to question 

Why aren’t I like that?

Naïve, 

Naïve enough to be dictated by the constant need to have everything 

That makes a girl, girl 

Because I wasn’t girly enough for him 

To feel like a man.

How guys don’t like it that way. 

We held hands 

I‘ll never let go of your hand; he said 

Then there were words ….

You replaced the beautiful sentence that a girl wishes someone would tell her 

The words that are “ Unless I let go” 

So……

I’m not supposed to let go

Not supposed to let go 

DON’T LET GO. 

Mmm nah, you see 

We don’t talk that much anymore 

But we have talked enough; isn’t it? 

I like meeting new people.

Talking to new people.

Any by people you meant girls 

Mostly girls.

We went from how we are ok we are doing fine

To its suffocating 

To we are ok to 

Nah !!! 

Those words 

These cold shoulders 

These oscillations 

Could only remind me 

Of those pendulous clocks 

Going back and forth 

Back and forth 

When I could only question 

What wrong did I do this week?

Did I do something to let go?

You’re a bad girl 

C’mon remember what he said 

It’s you!

If anything is happening it’s always you.

Acceptance? 

Seeing God in someone’s eyes? 

I was battered … 

Battered to the floor each day for loving you. 

But enough of all that. 

To my daughter :

Little girl, If someone ever treats you the way your momma got treated 

Remember your bushy hair is the most beautiful bush 

Neatly cut into those beautiful topiary gardens full of daises 

That your momma watered 

Your body ;

Is your temple and no one can ring the warning bells 

And tell you that you 

Are not good enough. 

Your love is pure and chaste, 

Only to make the world brighter 

Never give when you are empty. 

Somedays, people will come with a motive 

You might find your dreams going 

Crumpling down to the ruts.

Remember 

Nothing, no one can tell you 

What you can be, what you cannot. 

How you act and how should 

Just because it isn’t suitable for them 

Momma always has your back. 

It’s ok 

It’s ok. 

Wash your hair 

Adorn it with those 

Beautiful flowers and wear a  beautiful frock dress 

With a big backpack behind your back 

And with a child-like happiness 

Go skip those fields 

Full of daisies and butterflies 

And sparkles of your dreams that shine. 

Because you know why? 

It’s sometimes ok to let go. 

Poetry/Self-Acceptance

Prarthana

Categories:

Tags:

No responses yet

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *