Dec 15, 2013

Nobody like her.

Very often, we see a lot of people who are in the same situation we are in; but the law of nature is quickly ignored by the self importance we credit ourselves with. Now, despite being in a similar situation, we spin off one particular trait that deems our problems bigger than what the next person is facing. So we go on drastically living our lives, comparing the difficulty we face to what we think the other person is facing. Each problem one delta addition to the list of Whats-wrong-with-my-life today?


"Who is beyond this stupid game of hyping problems?", you may ask me.
So let me write a poem to tell you about that person :)



I met a boy.
A small boy.
Asked him what he wanted.
"A big remote controlled car", he chimed.
"This one I have is far too slow and small."

I met a girl.
A young girl.
Asked her what she liked.
"A tree house with all new dolls", she sighed.
"The ones I have are old and torn"

I met a man.
A daring man.
Asked him what he yearned.
"An exciting job with a handsome pay", he shrugged.
"The one I had ended in a pink slip."

I met a woman
A tired woman.
Asked her what she needed the most.
She looked at me with a forlorn smile.
"A job for my husband, Toys for my kids."

With a confused stare I spoke
"All that you've said I've heard before,
from the people who wanted them.
so I again ask you this:
What do you need the most?"

She stared at me defiantly now and spoke,
"A job for my husband, Toys for my kids."

She didn't utter items of fancy.
She never did speak of gold.
I meekly crept away that day from her.
Hoping that she'd be a lonely aberration.

Met many a people along the way,
each claiming that something or the other;
would end up making their day. 
Not once did I meet another woman like her.
Never again will I find another,
Who's as perfect as my mother.


Dedicated to my Mother. Who inspite of facing all the shitstorms that a 22 year old can cook up, still manages to smile and make the best cucumber gojju in the whole wide world whilst donning the mantle of the resilient housewife and mother. :)

 
 




 
 

 

 


 
 
 

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

nice:) even I love the cucumber gojju my mom makes :)

Anonymous said...

mine may not be the most popular opinion, but poems like this are a bit outdated dont you think? why are you trying to exemplify the fact that a woman doesnt want anything for herself? as admirable as that trait is for our mothers,if you propagate that message, girls will think its ok not to want anything as long as husband and kids have what they want.

GomZ said...

Well, prose pieces do seem to be on the thrive. Frankly speaking, this poem was not the thought I started with.

I sat at work hoping to write something that had happened in the past week.

Section 377. AAP. Delhi. Pappu. Work. Many thoughts hit my head.
Yet, the only thought I could not shake away was the conversation I had had with my mother. It was a heated conversation with old values clashing against seemingly rebellious new age values. Despite the generation gap and all that has changed. She is still the resilient soul who never goes down without a fight.

I was reminded about that by a passing thought and hence the poem (Prose is blah for me. Too many lines. Too laborious for the reader to read even though its easy as a cakewalk for the writer). A balladish (since its got some sort of a story flow) attempt of mine rather.

As far as stereotyping women goes, I am not suggesting that women be happy with the minimalistic wants of their family in life. Just that this is the situation at my place and Im writing about it :D

I believe that certain life choices get you to certain places; and each individual is free to explore and make his/her decisions.

SANJANA MURALIDHAR said...

very well written :)