Saturday, November 05, 2005


A smile to last a 9 month mile

A long line of women with bellies
With dreams, hopes, fears
Just like everyone else
But most clad in burka
Some spoilt, some repressed
Some may get depressed
As months become heavy
But all waiting to see her

She is always smiling
No matter what
Be it a Monday
Or a rainy day
Or every other hectic day
Husbands and wife beaters
Mothers in law and mothers to be
Are all humbled
By her power to make or break

Your little one is doing well
And she creates a smile
Are you drinking enough water?
She creates a crease in the forehead
Your baby’s head is fixed
And she creates a ripple of joy

Women screaming in labour
Nurses jostling around
Stretch marks, swollen stomachs
Sour moods and sore nipples
A mingled stink of tiredness
But behind her desk
She is fresh like the
Baby’s first cry

My baby all of 2.3
Eager to see the world
Before her time
But She was there
To carry her out to
Her world of smiles
Before she became one of us

A long line of women waiting
To be told the truth
To be comforted
To be small once again
To feel good just by a smile

A long line of women waiting
Except me.
Dr Bindu ,Dr Bindu
I hate to say adieu
New Mommy

A bundle in my arms
And a long dusty road
I look beside me
And there they all are
Father, mother
Grandma and husband.
It’s as good as it gets

But there she appeared
The vamp
dressed in a golden gown
She was polite at first
With warm whispers
Then bereft of her gown
She was very hot
Tired Mommy said
no more I can go on.
Daddy stopped to hold her hand

A bundle in my hands
And a long dusty road
With grandma and husband
But its worth the walk
I stopped to sleep a little
Then I heard the wail
“Not your maid at old age”
And she wouldn’t budge
My grandma.

A bundle in my hands
And a long dusty road
With husband so loving.
Nothing else mattered.
A swoop of them
In grey black coats
Vultures or bosses
They plucked him away
To do their dirty work

A bundle in my arms
And a mad bad world
All alone.
What have I done?
Small No more

I was walking
Dressed in a T shirt
Cold whispers from two women
Too small too small
The T shirt
The T shirt was once big
Now I have just grown up.

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

DADDY"S LIL GIRL

I was my daddy's lil girl
And my daddy is a nice man
He always tells the truth
and works very hard
When he built a house
he gave it my name.

Though all my friends went
to a local collage,
My daddy sent me
to the city to study
I fell in love
and fell out of it
But I was always daddys lil girl

Then one day, I went to a pub
And there he was
guzzling a beer and
blowing smoke rings
It was love at first sight
He asked me to marry him
and I said "yes"(hic)
We danced the whole night

I told my parents about him
They said "NO''
But I threw a tantrum
And screamed" YES,YES,YES"
My mom sighed
And my daddy looked very very sad

When I tied the knot,
My mom looked like a glittering star
dressed in a zardosi sari
My daddy just wore a grim expression
I was in awe
Wow,I am someone's wife.

Then in a blink I had a baby
Whew,I am someone's mommy.
I had to change nappies
Change the way I look at life
Wake up at ungodly hours
to nurse, to soothe, to nurse ,to soothe

When daddy carried my lil girl,
and sang to her,
and made funny faces
like he did to me long ago.
I took her away from his hands.
I may be someone's wife
Someone's mother
But I always want to be
My daddy's lil girl.

Friday, October 21, 2005


CHAINED

Said I can be what I am
Once I get married
Can go anywhere
Wear what I want
Do what I want to
I believed her
And married I got

Then a stork flew over my door
With a belly full I went to see her
She made my favourite dishes
And we laughed a lot
Then one day the sun gave away
And she showed her colours

I was little again
Don’t do that
Don’t do this
Don’t go out
You are not wearing that
Then she screamed
Then I banged the door
Then we cried

When the storm seemed to subside
I told her, Mom I am married
And soon to be a mom
So why don’t you let me be
But she never did see
I banged the door
Knowing things will never ever change

Wrote this when was abt 7 months. Fought with my mother as usual. She wouldnot let me wear a sleeveless top. Mothers are wierd, sometimes.
WHEN BALD IS GOLD
I just spoke to Murali and he was talking about some of our classmates especially Divya. He claims that she has thick cleavage hair. Remember the guys talking about it. Wonder if any guy has a fetish for cleavage hair? I like guys with hairy chests...lol and I think bald guys are so unsexy.It's no fun if you cant pull a guy's hair or run your fingers through it while kissing. But I read somewhere that bald guys have more testosterone levels. Hmmm......

Thursday, October 20, 2005

Am I going bonkers????
Kamia is crying badly. Tried to soothe her by talking in funny voices ( read on the net that it works), and shook the rattle and sang badly some song that felt like a lullaby. She would'nt stop. Even let her chew on my nipples. Didnt work this time. Finally gave her to my grandma. She is still crying, I think. Going mad.

Wednesday, October 19, 2005


Thank God For You

Mommy looked like a penguin
Without a wing
Dressed in a blazer
Under a cutting sun like razor
Travelling in autos
Perspiring sort of
Waiting to see journos
With a whole lot of releases
Mommy worked as a
Public Relations Person
Which meant mommy
Had to smile all the time
Except if someone died or fart
Mommy believed in Darwin
Cos Mommy like monkeys
Earned peanuts too.
That was mommy before
She was mommy to be


Then Mommy became
Mommy to be
And mommy stated to cry
Drop by drop
Cooling and soothing
Mommy’s fake smile
Mommy looked like a butterfly
With beautiful chubby wings
And as mommy flitted from
Iron rich dates to fatty sundaes
And long lazy sleepy days
Marked by your rhythmic kicks
A penguin without a wing
Like mommy before
Braved cold words n hot sun
All for half dried peanuts
And waited to be
Mommy to be

Pregnant 6 ½ months

Time stands still
Tormenting and a lil mocking
As if to tell
I know more than you
Three more months to go
Long endless days to battle

Will it be a pink diaper
And untamed brown black curls?
Will it be a blue bib ?
And lil helicopters and Ferraris ?
Will my eyes well up
When I first hear the cry?
Or will I in tired sleep miss?

Will it be his nose ?
And my eyes?
Will it be his temper
And my silliness?
Will it be the brains
That somehow eluded us?

Three more months to go
And time stands still
Tormenting and a lil mocking

Pregnant 5 ½ months
The Transformation

I can no longer look like the plump girl , that I used to look till last month. My tummy is showing and it’s an okay feeling I guess. I wonder if I am going to put on weight big time and then never lose it again. Will I be an obese 24 year old? Will I have clear skin again? Will I be marred for the rest of my life with stretch marks that I wish that I were perpetually purdah clad in Taliban. So many thoughts and very few answers. I wonder how Victoria Beckham did it, give birth thrice and still look like how she does. May be she didn’t give birth after all, may be those are Beckham’s illegitimate kids whom she claims are hers. I am beginning to appreciate Malaika Arora a lot, imagine giving birth and still an awesome body. I’ve stopped noticing her buck teeth altogether.

May 11, 2005
The Psychological Impact

Saw this woman giving birth on National geographic channel. I am scarred for life. Will I have a normal delivery and go through all that ? Suddenly I am fascinated by the C section. My friends sister swears by the C- section. I look like a cow .

May 12, 2005
The Enlightening

Know for a fact that I am having a baby girl. I had asked the scan lady whether it’s a girl. She didn’t say anything. I guess that’s only because of the law that says that telling the sex of the fetus is punishable and for all she knows I could be one of those pregnant sting reporters looking for a scoop to be aired at prime time. But from the look of her face, I feel she subtly confirmed it’s a girl. A woman always knows what another woman is trying to say. I didn’t see anything else sticking out other than the fingers and toes and so I think it’s a girl.

May 22, 2005
The Depression

Really in a bad mood. Wrote a letter to a very indifferent man titled
Confessions of a married pregnant woman at the end of the tether

Dear Mr Indifferent

First of all, I want to make one thing clear, that I didn’t stand on top of a mountain and get struck by a lightening and become pregnant. I am not that holy. And that is precisely the root of all my problems. Indifference by the person you want attention the most. I am at my parents house and living the life of a single woman except I am pregnant with nothing warm to hug except for a teddy bear, tiny as the indifferent person’s affection.
Every waking moment I wonder what Mr Indifferent is doing, whether he is safe, whether he had his breakfast and every time I call him, he is busy with his clients. His boss is next to him (though I have never heard of someone getting the sack for talking to his wife), He is driving or it’s too hot and would I stop pressurizing him? And I am in the foothills of Himalayas, yeah right. Walks with a girlfriend in the morning and evening visits to a cousin who is 40 and not yet married are my only pastime. I felt sorry for her in the beginning, but now I feel that it’s not bad at all. For every forty year old, there is a 45 year old or a 50 year old or even a thirty year old. What matters is the attention which she gets from all of them She just cannot decide which one. Maybe in a weird way, she doesn’t want to. Maybe contrary to the popular belief, that loneliness is the curse of old age, she is secure in the knowledge that for every 80 year old there is another wrinkled hand. You just don’t have to live with cats anymore. But what is really sad is when you have to put up with indifference. Sipping on a lone cup of coffee, I just wish that Mr. Indifferent would pop up from somewhere and do the unthinkable. Spend some time with me. Suddenly I am not sure anymore, maybe I did go to the mountain and get struck by the lightening after all.

From
Fat Woman who doesn’t care anymore (about being fat)

May 23,2005
The Disinterest

Lost interest in writing like this. Bored and missing my hubby a lot . Said he’ll see me in July. Oh for July…..