My Little Boy

My little boy, is an adamant one,

He has a fever of 101,

Yet, he wants to go to his play gym,

I have to give in to his every whim,

The word NO,

Makes him throw his head back and roar,

He screams, he cries and he stomps his feet,

Along with racing his baby heart beat,

Short tempered and full of drama,

Everyone around him mutters, "Rama-Rama"

With a mind of his own,

He's on a league of his own,

A rebel without a cause,

His naughtiness has no pause,

I put up a fight,

With all my might,

I'm determined to convert this monkey,

Into a gentleman and not a toy hoarding junkie,

Wish me luck,

And the strength to make many more bucks,

I'll need both to raise my boy wonder,

There's a lot to ponder,

Our work has just begun,

But we'll do it together, as a team of one.

Three

Three years since you've been physically gone,

Your memories still live on,

I miss our late night drives,

Those are chapters from our life, which I've mentally archived,

You knew me, like the back of your hand,

For most of our fights, you took a stand,

Gaajar halwa or Theobroma brownies,

Instantly took away my frownies,

I'm eyeing a Minnie Mouse ring watch now,

Which I know you would've picked up for me, had you been alive,

I miss you quietly and loudly,

I mourn you proudly,

Happy to have met you,

Blessed to have been married to you, 

I'm mostly okay,

 I've mastered how to push the pain away. 

Srinagar Colony

Three decades of being a resident,

Long enough to watch dad getting involved with the colony president,

He is an active member of the colony happenings,

A cozy, yet mildly happening,

Residential colony, for all ages across,

Everyone's a boss,

In Srinagar Colony,

Opinions are made and decisions are swayed, all inside the colony,

From the colony temple to the juice shop,

To every maid's mop,

Everyone is treated with dignity and respect,

In Srinagar Colony, including snakes, monkeys, cows, goats and dogs,

Every house vastly different from the other,

It's a colony like no other,

Sleepy at times,

Sometimes loud, for no reason or rhyme,

A minister being arrested,

A new idol being erected,

All this is enough and more,

For the colony to instantly wake up and mute their snores,

An amalgamation of old and new,

A walk inside Srinagar colony, will have you feeling anew. 

Home

Home, where the fridge is loaded with your favourite treats,

Right from sambar rice to every imaginable meat,

The kitchen always smells of ghee,

Filling your heart with glee,

One of the parents are always pottering around,

The clanging of snack boxes, a permanent sound,

You sleep your deepest sleeps,

As your parents quietly peep,

You find the strength to solve every problem,

Even if you hit rock bottom,

There's food and drink galore,

To make all your grievances fly away and soar,

By the end of the weekend,

Your mind is well rested, you're ready to blend,

Back into the weekly grind,

And the ready to face the world, that can sometimes be unkind,

But you've got this,

For the next weekend of bliss,

Is not too far away,

And home awaits, ready to melt your blues away.

Bullies

As my little boy gets bullied in school,

I tell him to be cool,

A slap for a slap,

Or a clap for a clap,

While non-violence is the way forward,

If the opponent is violent, there's no stepping backward,

Fight your fight and stand your ground,

I tell him to his little face that is semi-round,

He cries in response,

Saying this isn't what he wants,

So bullied he gets,

While I try not to fret,

I wonder who the parents are,

So that I can give them a slap for a slap, for my child's lifelong scar,

Bullies are horrid,

They have to be caught and reported,

I prefer the path of violence,

While my skinny cherub, prefers non violence,

Sigh!

Your Music

It was in the middle of listening to "The Weeknd,"

That my knees weakened,

"Why not listen to your songs?"

I thought,

I quickly searched for your bands on YouTube,

And began listening to it on loop,

Watching you in your element on stage,

Instantly took me back to a different age,

Your heart and soul, were always inside those concerts,

Watching you headbanging on stage, made my mind hurt,

How much grief I gave you for jamming over the weekends,

I instantly regretted those fights,

Can't stand to go to any concert now,

Because I know, I'll no longer bump into you there anymore. 

Empty

I am a void, a void is me,

There is debris,

That doesn't want to clear,

Instead it grows with every passing year,

My life is full,

Yet I feel a pull,

To everything dead,

My heart is no longer filled with dread,

Just acceptance, of a beautiful past,

And memories that are vast,

Three years since you've been gone,

I wonder if I am still in mourn, 

Perhaps I am, perhaps I'm not,

All I can feel are tight knots,

Inside my mind and chest,

The feeling doesn't go away even after a full night's rest.

Heal

"You've healed", said someone I recently met,

"Nope", I replied without too much of a fret,

I never healed, and that's my secret,

The fact that I've learnt to outwit,

My moody brain,

Is a skill I've learnt over time, I keep my emotions on a tight chain,

I break down so quietly,

No one hears it, the whole affair is done privately,

My pillows absorb my tears,

And the bawling falls on no one's ears,

I'm happy and sad,

Spend a day with me and you'll learn I'm quite mad,

Mad over a life that went by too quickly,

Glad that it happened even if I feel rickety,

Someday I'll be happy,

Until then I'll try not to be snappy,

No promises!

Sleep-Deprived Poopie

A glass of whiskey in hand,

He would tower over my sleeping frame and command,

Undivided attention at midnight,

The calls would begin by twilight,

"What do you want from the airport?",

"Toys for Riaan and food for you?"

As we'd drift into a delicious sleep,

He'd enter the house with a bag full of treats,

On our blue lounger he'd plonk,

With a glass of whiskey and smoke,

Exhausted beyond recognition,

Yet clear on his mission,

Stories of work and people,

He painted a rosy picture, while I sensed evil,

A couple of months later he was no more,

His whiskey bottles are probably in the store. 

Riaan's Eyelashes

A topic of discussion, as endless as his lashes,

"Ooh" and "aah" go the ladies, with mere flashes,

Of my baby boy's lashes,

The volume of clashes,

With the belief that women deserve thick curly lashes,

While boys end up in silly brawls and bike crashes,

"Who did you get such pretty lashes from? Mom or dad?", asked his hairdresser,

At that exact moment, I felt a tightening in my chest,

"His father has long been laid to rest",

Words that never escaped my mouth,

Instead I looked at my beautiful boy and his toothless mouth,

Grinning at me beatifically,

His tiny feet pattering,

At great speed towards me,

We belong to each other, that much I could guarantee,

As he enveloped me in a warm cuddle,

His freshly cut hair, reaching my tummy, we stood there in a quiet huddle,

My baby boy and his lashes,

Has everyone's heart in a tizzy, in mere flashes. 

Laddoos

Memories of golden fried laddoos,

Float in my head in panels divided by two,

On one panel, I see ammumma,

An image I instantly want to laminate,

On the other panel, I see her fluffy hands,

Vigorously churning the laddoos in ghee as it lands,

Inside the huge hot cauldron,

The laddoos all assembled for her like an edible squadron,

Inside the piping hot ghee,

All her grandkids looking at it in glee,

Waiting to gobble it up,

Like greedy little pups,

I miss those laddoos,

And the maker of those laddoos.

Love

Love, that elusive drug,

Which wraps our hearts in a warm hug,

There's no such thing as too much love,

It's not a feeling that you want to hide away or shove,

Love is a warm mug of hot chocolate,

It makes you less articulate,

You don't explain it,

Just feel it,

And you'll know when it's right, 

Upon first sight,

Lucky are those who've never fallen out of love, 

You've found yourself a precious treasure trove. 

Closure

You wonder why the living act like the dead,

Cold and unfeeling, almost like they have a heart that never bled,

There's nothing you can do,

But let them go,

You're not cold, 

Your heart is warm and your thoughts are old,

You're from a different world,

One that experienced love and watched it gorgeously unfurl,

There's magic in vulnerability,

It gives you stability,

So continue beating that warm heart of yours,

The right ones will gravitate towards your lure. 

Stree 2

"Vicky pleej" and crew are back. They're funnier than ever and this time they get to battle a meaner, bigger and more powerful demon whose past is closely linked to Stree.

The bumbling village idiots manage to vanquish the demon eventually with a little help from all things supernatural and Vicky of course or "Chanderi ka rakshak" as he's fondly referred to by the villagers. 

Love is at the core of both franchises. Mess someone's love life up and they will come back to haunt you and your entire families. 

So live your best life and fulfill all your heart's desires, or watch yourself turn into a bloodthirsty, happiness-sucking ghost with a grotesque-looking charred face. 

Doused with a generous dose of humour and a screechy demon, Stree 2 is an absolute must watch for lovers of horror-comedy.

Lizard Run

As the morning rains, pitter-pattered against my window,

My mind recalled my baby's crazy lizard chase and follow,

He kept at it vigorously with a feather duster,

My brave little 5 year old, with all the courage he could muster,

Witnessing his screechy mom,

He decided to chase the lizard with aplomb, 

"You shouldn't be scared of small animals mumma",

He said, like a baby alpha,

The mini-man of my house,

Engaged in a game of cat and mouse,

With the nasty little lizard, who had buried himself in my cupboard,

Not once did he shudder,

Or back down, from his lizard chase,

But it was a case,

That had no conclusion,

The search goes on for the elusive lizard whose absence fills our minds with confusion,

Is he still in the cupboard or not,

We'll never know, until he's caught,

A moment's applause now for my mighty tot,

For trying hard to chase away the lizard from every spot.

Feel All Your Feelings

I’m a big believer of this simple life mantra. Hold in your grief, trauma and insecurities and it will burst like a volcano all over yourself and others. Therefore, feel all your feelings. Just let it out. When my husband passed away close to three years ago, I didn’t feel all my feelings. Or maybe I did. I recall suppressing a lot of emotions, until one day I exploded and ultimately got hospitalized. That was my wake-up call to finally feel all my feelings.

It might sound absurd and ridiculous, but feeling all your feelings and letting it flow out like hot molten lava is the best thing to do if you want mental stability and peace of mind. Cry, when you want to cry. Scream, when you want to scream. Break things if you must. Channelizing helps to an extent, but ultimately, you’ve got to feel all your feelings.

The universe did you wrong, this should never have happened and you’re sad. So be sad. Cry yourself a river like Justin Timberlake rightly crooned. You’d think that spousal death at 34 with a 2-year-old to fend for is life’s biggest problem. I realized there was so much more ahead of me. I’ve become more hot-headed than ever; I snap faster than a twig and my patience and tolerance levels for stupidity have gone down to absolute zero.

Getting into a Zen-zone and turning into mini-Buddha is my next life goal. But for now, one day and one idiot at a time. Let people have it. The good ones get all my love and affection. The idiots get a solid bashing on their face or on their screens (depends on where they’ve reached out to me).

We’re all great people. God’s unique masterpieces. And no one in the world should make us feel like second best. Speak your mind. Be loud, inappropriate and get out there and do things you truly love. Ultimately everything will fall into place. If not, you’ll still figure it out because human beings are survivors at their very core. We generally pass every single litmus test in the world, statistically speaking.

Look at all the faffing I did up there and you believed it. As I said, speak your mind, even if it’s garbage. Someone’s garbage is another man’s gold.  So, keep being you, keep spewing garbage or gold, depending on who is listening, reading and watching.

Have a great weekend everyone!

Deadpool and Wolverine

Deadpool fans have waited six long years to see their favourite superhero on screen again. The movie was an audio-visual treat for all 90s kids right from the background scores (NSYNC, AC/DC, Avril Lavigne, Greenday) to the references and cameos made by superheroes dead and alive (X-Men, Avengers, Blade, Elektra, Fantastic Four, Captain America, Iron Man, Hulk). 

The core theme of the movie ran on the emotions of acceptance, being respected and wanting to make a difference. And that's why we love Deadpool. He's so flawed and funny, yet he gets it right every single time. His motor-mouth gets him into all sorts of trouble, yet his heart is essentially in the right place.

While the superhero fan-girl in me wants to root for Wolverine more than Deadpool, I can't help liking Deadpool more. We all need some chill in our lives and Deadpool is all about the chill, while still kicking the bad guy's ass. Wolverine does the same, in his grouchy old-fashioned way.

References to Charles Xavier instantly makes you miss X-Men and you wonder why the franchise has been discontinued. 

I left the movie hall with all sorts of feelings - being amused, a wave of nostalgia and hoping against hope to keep watching all the superheros I grew up watching on the big-screen. 

The lines between good and evil, responsibility and irresponsibility are truly blurred. We are all individuals who make decisions based on the circumstances handed to us. And Deadpool teaches us these simple life lessons. 

Hello Late Husband

 

My dearest poopie,

It's been a while since I spiralled down that rabbit hole of self-pity, wondering why you left so soon. This is not a cribby note, you never had the patience for it anyway.

Let's start with Riaan, he's almost six now and has forgotten you. I'm sorry. That's on you really. He was two when you passed, so you can't really blame him. 

I'll be watching Deadpool and Wolverine on Saturday and I'll miss you, he was the only Marvel superhero you ever liked afterall.

Not broaching the subject of work, you'll probably just tell me to sit at home. My health is okay now. I'm off meat, can you believe it? You always did tell me to marry a vegetarian Gujarati boy. My diet now fully aligns with that. 

It's not hard being a single mom, I have my days. But I think I've mostly got it, thanks to amma and achan. 

I'm not a sound sleeper anymore. I wake up multiple times in the middle of the night and have livid dreams. It's like my brain does not want to shut down. 

It's a strange world we live in. You're lucky you didn't have to witness any of it. Or perhaps you did. 

Love, 

Poopie

Lucid Dreams

Close to a month of vivid dreams,

The visuals in my head have been extreme,

I wake up with a jolt,

Feeling frozen cold,

I remind myself, that it was just a bad dream,

A cry from my inner being, perhaps even a scream,

All my dreams are lucid and real,

Some of them heal and some reveal,

My deep insecurities and fears,

Best to shift gears,

During the waking hours,

Try to unwind and reflect on the dreams as having superpowers,

Having a brain that refuses to shut down or sleep,

Can make you weep,

Dreams or no dreams,

The constant stream,

Of moving images and words,

Should encourage you to look inwards.

Hope

I've had a crazy couple of months,

A whole lot of speed bumps,

Everything seemed bleak,

I felt utterly helpless and weak,

Slowly and steadily though,

I decided to let go,

The worst has already happened,

But I will not slacken,

Thread on, I must,

For on this path I have been thrust,

I will not give up,

Or let up,

Miracles are yet to happen,

And I'm sure they'll be wilder than I can imagine.

Fish Dreams

I have only one wish,

For the summer and that is to be a fish,

Just for this season,

So that I'm not eaten,

By the extreme heat,

Not sure how else I'll beat,

This ruthless weather,

I'm at the end of my tether,

I need water,

Permanently and stat, to live perpetually underwater. 

Fried

Brain fried, soul fried and body fried,

The heat makes you want to hide,

Inside air conditioned rooms,

Far away from the heat wave and hot fumes,

You want to drown in a tub of icecream,

And have some cool dreams,

How do people survive in this heat,

Without feeling dead beat,

Summer has just begun,

And I'm already done,

With the stickiness,

And heat induced dizziness.

Angry Bird

Sometimes you talk to me like I don't have a brain,

Screeched my 5 year old after creating a slushy balcony stain,

His attempts to help,

Had my poor plant yelp,

Half its sandy home was splattered on my picture perfect balcony,

I looked at him like he had attempted a felony,

Killing plants should have tiny humans thrown in jail,

They should be kept far away from all living beings, for peace to prevail,

Always in the middle of every household chore,

And ready to go at war,

The minute an adult says no,

He creates quite a row.

Try

As I lay flat on my back,

I finally realised life's hack,

We try,

Every single day we try,

To get better, stronger, faster,

And try to master,

Better control of our body,

The walks get less wobbly,

The legs feel stronger,

The aching bits still make you falter,

But everyday,

You try, in different ways,

To get back on your feet,

And for that you deserve a treat.

Agree to Disagree

An entire month of slowing down,

Experiencing my body breaking down,

Determined to finally give up sugar and meat,

Lose the last six kilos and finally meet,

The 20 year old version of me,

And choose to agree,

That not all my feelings need to be shared,

Because no one really cares,

The world is different, people are colder,

Their hearts have been replaced with boulders,

They're not right or wrong,

I just don't have to agree or go along,

With their lack of warmth,

I'll just head north,

And continue being me.

Surgery #3

Every surgery makes you humble,

It reduces your need to grumble,

Grateful to the sweet anesthesiologist,

Who played the role of a psychologist,

He could see my petrified eyes,

And filled my ears with advise,

A constant pat on the head,

As I lay wide awake on that operating bed,

First time I've heard myself being operated upon,

It seemed like the hours dragged on and on,

I finally fell into a lull,

And began to feel dull,

As the anesthesia began to wear off,

The pain immediately threw me off,

A long sleepless night ensued,

With nurses who were rude,

As I finally left that golden cage,

I smelt the soothing sea breeze and instantly felt calm and sage.

Poop

It's all in the poop,

Never take for granted all that goop,

Poop too little,

And you might end up in a pickle,

Poop too much,

And you won't achieve a lot as such,

My most favourite hobby, has come to bite me in the ass,

At least I'm losing weight along with all that gas,

Bedridden, with a 5 year old to baby-sit me,

I'm able to see,

The world through his eyes,

Constantly subject to his baby advice,

I don't feel completely useless.

Woman Down

A whole week,

Of feeling utterly weak,

There's nothing you can do,

When your body gives up, except bid-adieu,

To the unwanted things growing inside you,

I try not to feel blue,

But the intertia of the past week,

Is making me feel bleak,

April is whizzing by in a blur of bad health,

I'm taking deep breaths,

And reassuring myself,

That I'll be back to normal,

Super soon.

Kidney Stones

Scan centers and doctor's clinics,

Enter only to exit as a relic,

The waiting period is tediously long,

And you realise all your calculations have gone wrong,

 

Are you from Chennai? Did you work abroad? Is that a cross tattooed on your arm? And what is your job? 

Were just some of the questions thrown my way, by the scan doctor's assistant,

The more I chuckled, the more he got persistent,

So I gave in to his curious questioning,

And suddenly realised how I must be threatening,

Blissfully quiet folks,

Who refuse to give me responses or laugh at any of my jokes,

Now my arm hurts,

So I'm just going to give into sleep, before it gets worse.

Summers

The Chennai summers have claimed it's first victim,

One week since my tum has been throwing a tantrum,

So I ran to the doctor, only to learn,

Good health has to be earned,

Not enough fibre, not enough water,

What in God's name are you eating, she made me ponder,

Chicken puffs from hot breads,

And steaming hot gaajar halwa to keep a cool head,

Not good enough apparently,

Summers are for clean eating and improving your tum's warranty,

I'm still down and out,

Nursing my painful tum with a pout.

Chilli Chicken

Broken soul, broken heart, broken bones,

Chilli chicken can solve all your groans,

This deep fried delight,

Has always helped me rewrite,

My mood in a jiff,

I just have to catch a whiff,

Of this childhood nostalgia drowning in soya sauce,

My mind instantly takes a pause,

I suddenly have the strength to conquer the world,

And handle anything that is hurled,

From unpleasant to disgusting,

I find myself readjusting,

My expectations of everything,

And suddenly I'm no longer carrying,

The weight of the world on my shoulders.

Devyani

Devyani and I, 

Could have married each other, in the blink of an eye,

She's sweet and romantic,

Thoughtful and empathetic,

We even look alike,

So do our kids, who look at each other with delight,

I eat her brain,

And she mine, come rain,

Or shine,

There's no one in the world, I'd rather go and whine,

We can talk for hours, on the same topic,

We look at it from every angle - philosophic and microscopic,

At the end of our banter,

We have no real answers, except that she understands me and I, her,

That's what  girlfriends are for,

Their emotional bandwith is stronger than Thor. 

Vacuum

An empty house,

A life without a spouse,

It's a hollow feeling,

Yet I'm a master at concealing,

My true feelings,

I numbed it out, for the longest time, under the pretext of healing,

Truth be told,

I'm completely sold,

On the concept of love,

For I experience it everyday, right here and from up above,

What's the point in living,

Without wholeheartedly giving,

I have another adventure left in me,

And hopefully I'll find a love, as breathtaking as the sea.

Hospitals

An assortment of people,

Couples, the elderly and little people,

The little ones show obvious resistance,

The elderly oblige as per their doctor's insistence,

You're always called an entire hour early,

Ensuring that by the time you leave, you're crabby and surly,

The steady buzz of conversation flows,

Whether you're feeling high or low,

I've thankfully had good doctors,

You could call them amusing talkers,

I just find the waiting ghastly,

And well past me.

Early Morning Dips

An hour long dip,

Is quite a trip,

Provided you don't have a whole day of work,

I'd rather lurk,

Under my bedcovers,

Than stare at my work leftovers, 

Super sleepy,

And trying not to be weepy,

As my Teams messenger goes ping, ping, ping,

I want to mute out the dings,

And bury myself in bed,

Nighty nighty says my head.

Strange World

It's a strange world we live in,

We're encouraged to keep our feelings buried deep in,

Open up a little,

And you're belittled,

We're expected to feel less,

And speak less,

Open up your heart,

And you're considered less smart,

I don't recognise this world,

For I'm from an older world,

My heart will always be big,

Not fickle like a helpless twig,

I'll fall down and rise up,

I'll always be a storm in a cup,

All heart, 

Right from the start.

Bye Bye Baby

Missing my little boy already,

I'm not sure if I'm ready,

To live in an eerily quiet house,

Without a tiny person asking me a million doubts,

Why, why and why,

Twenty four hours just fly,

Answering his endless questions,

And listening to his old man suggestions,

No clay dough boxes to trip over,

No one to ask me, if my work is over,

No one to read bed time stories to,

Who knew,

I was going to miss the chaos this much,

Suddenly, everything in the house yearns 

for my baby's touch.

Ticking Timebomb

You know what's worse than vomiting,

Projectile vomiting,

And my son is quite an expert in the act,

He can keep at it, until he's completely smacked,

He has zero immunity,

We're at the hospital at every given opportunity,

He's tired of looking at his doctor's face,

And she's all too familiar with his case,

Picky eater, lots of chatter,

An aggressive diary and sugar whacker,

Raising a toddler is hardwork,

Only 20 years to go and hopefully life will be less berserk.

My Little Squirt

Just when I think I'll miss my little squirt,

He lets out oceans of puke, that luckily splattered far away from my flowery skirt,

I was gloomy just a second ago,

Wondering how I'll live in an empty house, with no toddlers to show,

As I started cleaning up the contents of his tum,

I began to feel less and less glum,

Maybe this time off, is not a bad idea after all,

An occasional call,

Just to see his toothless smile,

From a few thousand miles,

Might just be the break that I deserve,

Let him drive other people nuts and get on their nerves,

I'm happy to be temporarily relieved from mommy duties.

Grief

What grief did to me,

Was set me free,

I no longer want to be polite,

Or put up a fight, 

For pretences,

You live and you die, on the very same day, I wonder why this isn't common sense,

My grief heightened my senses,

I began to wear different lenses,

There are moments when I feel completely alone,

And I try my best not to groan,

Things could have been worse,

My life is not such a curse,

One day, I'll be completely happy,

Until then, I'll try not to be snappy.

Opinions

Opinions are like farts,

You must part,

With them, the minute something unpleasant is said,

Give it zero space in your head,

Lest you drive yourself mad,

Forget about it and you will be glad,

No one's opinion should matter to you,

Except yours,

Slipknot did say people = shit,

Now you know why, some days you take a hit,

Others, you fly by,

So don't bother asking why,

When stupid opinions are passed,

Allow it to leave your mind fast. 

Ada Pradhaman

Childhood in a bowl,

This milky dessert has captured my soul,

Milk, sugar and ada,

You can't look at it and say, you'll have nada,

My first slurp of this heavenly delight,

Was on a sadhya leaf, when the tum was far from light,

My heart was a goner in the first lick,

My mouth was quick,

To ask for a second, third and fourth serving,

By now, the tum was working overtime and churning,

The already existing contents of the sadya,

That's the whole point of sadyas,

You eat and overeat, from start to finish,

So that the rest of the day you can diminish,

By eating, sleeping and farting, in no particular order.

Home Alone

Home alone for the next three weeks,

Without my hyperactive bundle, has my heart in erratic beats,

No 25,000 calls a day from my parents,

Bang in the middle of my busiest and most tense moments,

The thought of being left alone,

For the next three entire weeks, is leaving me forlorn,

Nothing to look forward to at the end of a work day,

They'd be close to 5000 miles away, 

What am I supposed to do,

Except feel blue,

All alone, so alone,

In a big empty house, I'll be home alone. 

Life

Drowning myself in work,

Seemed like the only way to make my hellish life work,

Slowly and steadily, the pain eased,

Yet, there are moments when I feel my heart being squeezed,

I am me, yet not fully me,

I will never be free,

From the memories of the past,

Which were both beautiful and vast,

I found love and peace,

It was brutally brief,

Before I could grapple with what went down,

I felt myself going down,

Drowning in sorrow,

Hardly a person, completely hollow,

But the laughter of the boy who once lived,

Egged me on to live,

Perhaps it is his love,

From up above,

That has propelled me on,

The darkness quickly gave way to dawn,

I am still me,

With a range of emotions, as chaotic as the sea.

My Empathetic Little One

"Go ahead and do your work mumma",

Says my little one with a little ummah,

On my shoulder,

"I'll work on a cool laptop too, when I'm older",

He mutters under his breath,

My weakness and my strength,

My little boy,

With his endless demand for toys,

"Show me the money you made today mumma",

He says with another ummah,

"I love my mumma very much",

"She makes the money for my monthly toys", he says with a gentle touch,

Or with a mega hug, 

That involves running off the bed and throwing himself on me like a thug,

What would I do without my baby boy,

He keeps me sane, despite his fixation for a million toys. 

Toddlers

No one can love you,

And hate you, 

And love you all over again,

On the same day, without so much as twitching a vein,

They're melodramatic and calm,

Their moods, like a ticking time bomb,

Tears are shed like waterfalls,

Alongside ear-shattering bawls,

They're not evil,

Their love for you is pure, think Vin Diesel,

From the Pacifier,

Their tiny hearts merely desire,

Undivided attention from you,

They will pursue you,

Until you put everything aside and cuddle them, 

It's a win-win, for you'll both instantly feel less glum. 

XS Hair, XL Face

What was my barber thinking,

With his razor sharp scissors and excessive blinking,

As he chopped off all my hair,

Did he want to make me look like a baby bear,

The bangs are nice and long,

But the sides are all wrong,

I suddenly look like a very confused woman, 

Who could pass off to be a man,

My big round cheeks,

Are no longer playing hide and seek,

Under my neatly fallen hair,

Instead there's only air,

And no protection from the big bad world,

They've been unfurled,

In all their round glory,

I can't wait for them to be a forgotten story,

Under my bouncy little bob,

That no longer is a bob,

I self soothe, by convincing myself it's just hair,

It will grow back, faster than climbing stairs.