Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Why don’t you listen to me darling?
You ARE aware that ‘mummy knows best?’
She’s the one who loves you best too,
Give your mummy’s mind a rest.

I hate to see you do what hurts you,
With the blind innocence
Of a mere girl.
I don’t expect you to know
Of all the troubles that may unfurl.
But I’ve been through it all,
Through it all,
And though it hurts me, I must say-
The world’s not a nice place my dear,
If you ignore me,
You’ll pay.

You know that I wanted to be a doctor?
But for it,
I would have to leave this city.
My father didn’t let me, he couldn’t.
I was his favourite, his “angel”, his “pretty.”
I reminded him of my mother,
I was 4 yrs old when she died,
He needed me to nurse him,
To make him smile,
To ease the hurt he had inside.
What did I do?
How can you ask me
Such a question?
It hurts my pride.

I gave up my dreams,
I stayed at home.
My silent screams
Never reached the ears
Of my daddy.
The thoughts of him finding out
How I bled inside
Were my greatest fears.
I am sure my heart
Grew quite brittle
With the salt of my unshed tears.

And now I see you toying about
With music, with drama,
When you should be
Giving your studies all you’ve got
To improve your scores in Biology.

You wouldn't ENJOY being a doctor?
Rubbish!
I know you better
Than you know yourself.
This is merely a passing whim,
Befitting a capricious elf.
Not something a sensible girl
Like you should be indulging in.
Oh my sweet, wasting yourself
Is really the worst ever sin!

And what’s this crazed notion
You’ve got of late,
You don’t want to get married at all?
Well thankfully, as usual,
I can give you an example
Before you fall.
My own example.
What better proof
Can you ever expect to get?
You don’t know what I’m saving you,
You don’t know what it’s like to regret.

I didn’t want to get married either.
But my loving, unselfish daddy said-
‘If you remain a spinster for me
I’d sooner be decrepit or dead.’
So he found the perfect man for me.
Good heavens, why that cynical smile?
Have you…oh no that can’t be!
Haha, I was thinking for a while…
But maybe…umm…listen darling,
If you’ve heard any stories being told…
Stories of what?
Oh nothing. Nothing really.
Haha…I really am growing old!
These days the weirdest of thoughts
Keep flitting in and out of my head.
But whatever it is that kept me staring
At the ceiling for hours last night in bed,
Is nothing to do with fight I had
Yesterday morning with your dad.
That was nothing…nothing really.
Don’t let it make you feel bad.

But I want to protect you,
I don’t want my child
To even for once
Have to go through pain.
Say something sweetheart,
Don’t keep silent.
Have I said all these words in vain?
Say something, you MUST,
Oh can’t you see,
Just what it is
That your trust
Means to me?

7 beep/s:

Clezevra said...

Pretty much perfect. it captures everything very well. Bt why make it into a poem., i think prose might be better

Death On Two Legs said...

Well, with prose, a long monologue becomes drab. And its easier to draw attention to subtle catches with poetry.
at least for me it is :)

jess said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Safdar said...

i like the fact that its a poem.
just that its a little bit of a jerky read.

apart from that, amazing.
so, why are u taking an interest in drama and music, little girl?!

Death On Two Legs said...

hehe...this isn't autobiographical. My mum's a darling.
But yes, I AM taking an interest in drama. You sound as though you have an explanation for that in your head.

Safdar said...

drama is so much more hindi than ingreji.

and maybe i do.what do you say?

Safdar said...

drama is so much more hindi than ingreji.

and maybe i do.what do you say?