To the person whom world muses as an institution of perfection,
Isn’t it tiring to be expected to be correct all the time?
To know everything?
Don’t we forget that she is a human before being a mother?
It’s her first time being a mother too and even if it’s not she can’t be blamed for being imperfect!
A mistake without a bad intention is forgiven everywhere
In every shrine
But for mothers?
It is often wrapped in questions instead
“How could you not know?”
“What kind of a mother are you?”
She is still trying to find the answer to these questions the world imposes on her,
What kind of mother are you?
And sometimes she has the answer (the one which the world hasn’t heard of!)
‘A Human Mother, the one who makes mistakes and learns from them’
A Mother who maybe once or many times didn’t understand what was wrong with the child; or
What the child meant to say; or
What was happening to him…..
And who gave us the right to decide if she failed or passed at being a mother?
Who decides that and on what merits?
Ever thought how burdened does she feel when we assume she knows it all
How paranoid she is due to the expectations of the world
She has looked at her mother and all the other mothers,
but found the same helplessness in their eyes
who have accepted these assumptions as a gospel
So now she stops waiting for someone to break this chain of expectations,
And she does what they did
She accepts the rule too
That A MOTHER MUST KNOW IT ALL
She has nowhere to go for help
So now she tells herself she knows it all and thinks it’s her duty to know it all
A rebel who tells stories in the form of snippets and poems.