You’re angry all the time—
none of your old clothes fit anyway.
Perfume sits untouched, while fashion seems far away.
Backpacks replaced the trendy bags you once loved.
And the mirror tells the tale of woman worn and roughed.
You rarely cook, rarely meet friends,
even though you’re home these days.
Your world feels off-balance,
as if nothing is in your hands.
Everything feels imperfect.
“Are you a perfect mother, my friend?”
Morning alarm rings—tring, tring, tring—
soon it is time to go for work.
For a working mom, it’s the same life,
whether in Helsinki or New York.
Your little boy is still asleep, peaceful and tight.
Coffee in hand, you promise,
“Today I’ll play with him—and no fights with my partner tonight.”
You get dressed, ready to go,
but just as you open the door,
Your little fellow has waken up,
his voice pleading with a roar.
You hug him quickly and leave— his cry lingers in your ears.
Your heart feels heavy,
but your responsibilities weigh more than tears.
On your commute, you count the hours.
As you can’t wait to go back and spend time with your dears .
But when you return home, all torn and tired.
Another day has passed against what you have truly desired.
Your self-promise keeps repeating without getting bailed.
Your guilt whispers to you again: ” As a mother, you have failed!”
You have sleepless nights, not because you are a new mother.
It is because you have felt the little angel in your body, but never managed to hold her like the way did others!
Untenanted body with vacant arms took your sleep away.
Dolorous eyes and disillusioned wishes ask you, “Are you a perfect mother, by the way?”
Most of your friends are busy raising children, so they often miss your calls.
You also keep trying for years to be a mother; but your luck is the main false!
In a social gathering often you don’t have a common topic about to talk.
Hence, when others are babbling about motherhood; you have decided to go for a walk.
Your timid heart is questioning, “How does a motherhood feel?”
People think their life for real, and your one is a reel.
It has been more than a year since your children visited you last.
This old age is moving slow, even though the young age went too fast.
You have surrendered your career and life for nurturing your children.
Then, in your old age, for them, why you have became a burden?
The doors of old folk’s home ask you, “Are you a perfect mother then?”
Your soul is trapped in an undesired frame, doesn’t match with your want.
You are captured in a male body, even though you are a woman from your heart.
You are neither meant to be a husband, nor a wife.
But when someone abandoned her own newborn, you clutched the baby in your life.
Still the society gives you a look and chuckle at your oneness.
That moment, all your efforts strike to a downfall and seem like madness.
Who are you? Who are you?
Are you a perfect mother?
Let the people say what they believe,
don’t get bothered!
You are the perfect mother, and your heart knows this well.
So let’s celebrate the best Mother’s Day with yourself, though everybody else gave you a farewell.
-Kinchit Reddhiman
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