Rough Patch

My world came crashing down again

I realised once again I was betrayed

How, I didn’t know.

Why I had a faint idea.

I can’t afford to be a know it all,

The ball isn’t anymore in my court

I have been let down and I wish I could let them down,

The cycle still incomplete

I am stuck at the turnaround.

Move it, I screamed,

inside my head.

Move on, I cried,

Determined inside.

“You’re better than that, you always were”,

The forlorn heart tries to help.

But the lies too sharp

Gnawed at my heart

I was stuck, the limbs felt numb,

The reality harsh,

It really hurt.

I had met the sayers,

But the doers were dead…

They said something and did something else instead,

I understood conspiracies,

Once after they were hatched,

As I sat, all by myself.

Finally I started to solve the puzzle,

Every piece that fit,

Left me a tad more bewildered.

I understood the lies stacked,

And the people involved,

I could count them on my fingers before,

I eventually moved on,

I wouldn’t forget them or what they had done,

I will keep them in my memory,

Till their deeds come undone.

And when finally we meet,

I will look through them,

Like they never were a part of my realm.

Despair

He was scouring it off his chest,

Scrubbing it sporadically,

Still the specs remained…

Specs of immorality, they’d just not go away,

No matter how hard he tried.

For once, love meant more than longing,

But the time was slipping away

His love wasn’t enough,

Nothing that he did would ever be enough,

She was rushing away

Leaving behind the memories,

That still felt fresh,

The lies that he concealed in the darkest corner of his heart,

Came through today.

Disbelief shrouded the love,

& every moment spent together,

Stabbed her heart,

The love that she thought belonged to her,

Was never truly hers…

As she finished packing the last,

He waited outside with his soul undone…

She walked out inconsiderate,

Disgust replaced the affection in her eyes,

She truly loved him once, but

He lost it all in one night.

Ⓒ Prakriti Kundaliya

 

Dear Husband

Just like a tree rooted to the ground,

You have sheltered me from the troubles around.

When I look into your eyes,

My heart instantly smiles,

You’re still the same man,

Without a single vice.

This is what they call sincere love.

You’ve been the only constant,

In this ever-changing world.

You’ve been my sense and my nerve,

And the heartbeat, that constantly flutters.

You’ve pulled me up at my lowest &

Pushed me ahead when I froze,

You loved me at the weakest &

Appreciated me when I rose.

I am glad destiny brought us close &

I am glad our lives entwined,

I hope you remain my one true constant,

Even when I am done with life!

Ⓒ Prakriti Kundaliya

The break…

You can’t be both,

A happy mother & a successful working mom,

There was never such a thing as above,

Make a choice, you will have to,

When you grasp the tiny finger,

Withdraw, you can’t be happy forever…

Teach her to love,

Then teach her a thing about separation…

Soon she will get used to the absence, but would you?

 

Every day I leave her, I put up a brave face,

I am scared to get too used to her smiles,

I need to focus,

The reality is vile.

You’re not just a working mother,

You’re also a working woman,

So every moment is a challenge,

& the logics are weighed on a patriarchal scale.

 

I want to compete with men,

Be just like them,

Then I remember she must be waiting

& expecting this stranger anytime,

There is so much I will never be able to do,

Because I still can’t make a choice,

Her love is stronger &

So is my pride.

 

Does every mom choose?

Or does it come easy to them,

Are they allowed a refuge or

Are they always confused?

I still want both the worlds,

Someday, maybe she will understand,

Why I left her behind the doors &

Why I could never take a stand.

Ⓒ Prakriti Kundaliya

Que Sera, Sera

What do you want her to be when she grows up? What would you like her to pursue? I am left with so many unaccomplished dreams that I’d want her to pursue everything that I like, yet every time I look into her eyes I realise I am facing a different person. She is a part of me but she is nothing like me. She is harbouring unrealised dreams and there are many things that fascinate her, she is only 1. How can I dream anything for her? I can’t, rather I shouldn’t.
I want my baby to become anything that her heart desires. I want her to pursue happiness. She can be a princess today and she can be a sailor tomorrow. She can be a scientist today and a swimmer tomorrow, but for now she can be the child who doesn’t have to know limits. She can be the girl who doesn’t know the difference between her and the boy who lives across the street. She will know the differences as she grows old anyway but the only difference I will teach her for now is to differentiate between the good and the bad. I will teach her that people may try to take advantage of her and not because she is a girl but because there are bad people in this world.
She is allowed to skin her knee and she is also allowed to break someone else’s bones if needed. Yes, she is mine but even I won’t owe her. I want her to know that she will be allowed to make mistakes and learn from them. She is lucky for even her dad will support her, spoil her. I want her to know that we will give her the best in our reach but in return we would expect her to value it, for there are many unprivileged.
I have dreams for her, so many of them but eventually she will realise her dreams when she grows old and I will have to accept. Today she has started walking, tomorrow I wouldn’t want her to run away from me. I hope I can be the mother, I think I should be.

To the Men Who Lie

Because objects shouldn’t have a voice,

And whatever objects, is never a choice.

There are men that knit stories of affection,

Stories of love, and stories of dedication.

They make you believe that you’re important than their life,

Then they tell the same thing to the next in line.

Yes, you’re like season and seasons always change,

There’s never one constant, but after every change, it rains.

Yes, feelings are important and they feel too much,

That’s also one reason why one woman, is seldom enough!

They lie unsurprisingly and it’s difficult to tell,

After all, they bind you with their bewitching spell.

They are dangerous, than danger itself,

Because they haven’t yet discovered themselves.

Every woman is nice as long as she falls for the charms,

But if she questions something, it raises an alarm.

Such men like their women timid,

That are meek and unarguably stupid,

Because objects shouldn’t have a voice,

And whatever objects, is never a choice.

They believe heartily that nothing is permanent,

And that’s their reason, for the short arrangements.

To the men that lie, we know who you are,

The times have changed, your lies have travelled afar.

To the men who lie, know our hearts have fortified,

The declaration of love, no longer makes us blind.

Ⓒ Prakriti Kundaliya

 

 

Circle of Life

I have been running around in circles,

With no set destination in mind,

The world around progressed too much,

& I got pulled far behind…

Circle of life, Changes through the years, walking out of the past, bidding goodbye to memories, memories, past

While I waited to live, the life almost got over &

I realized the mortal I was meant to be,

When I stood at the crossover,

The traffic of insecurities jammed the heart,

The web of memories fogged the path.

Life needed a closure I realised.

Of all the weary mistakes,

I understood, I was still paying the price.

Acclimatizing was even more difficult,

The world brimming with youth, and me much older…

Every day I elude the unacquainted smiles,

I avoid the greetings made by the passer-by’s.

It pierces my heart, to know that I don’t fit in any longer,

I try to act brave but my heart isn’t any stronger…

The day progresses and then comes to a halt,

& the tears wash away the anxieties at fall.

I want to give up desperately and not get up at all,

I still force the wrecked carcass to crawl.

Why, I still pretend I ask myself,

Why doesn’t this wretched journey ever end?

Ⓒ Prakriti Kundaliya
Image Courtesy: Miriam Aroeste http://miriamaroeste.com/portfolio/