"Your Amma is not the ideal woman,
you know!"
I heard Appa murmuring
from his left side of the bed
a delusional women's idealism
clogging the memory of a 57 yrs old
(or maybe more)
deep in his very hypothalamus.
how any piously ideal woman
is just about
seeking her shrine in a home
entirely her spouse's rearrangement
even his mean orders should
be a priority on her
morally soul purpose domain.
"Appa you know I'm right here"
I fired back. Obviously!!!!
a little extra 10% love for
Amma pursued my rebel coz
for a quiet long passage
covering the entire two decades
of what I have know
was being propelled. My
Amma has never failed
to be morally ideal but
a beautiful mind out of all.
She chose to wait outside
the premises holding a
burgundy umbrella
(a fierce color. Isn't it?)
on extreme summers for their
4-yr old
crossing those heated up
sweat drenching roads
when her husband's salary wasn't
complied with bus fares.
She has always prepared
every meal out of love,
sometimes feasts too
guarded their daughter
to the tuition centers yet
never missed
to lend her shoulder
as a best friend.
She has attended each
PTA meetings where her
husband never offered to join them
and
all she could manage was to
smile at their daughter blankly
when asked. She has
sheltered her fears inside
just in case
they don't seep into
their daughter's nightmares.
She has birthed and
beautifully brought
up 'a warrior', as she
calls me pleating braids
from those lumpy clusters of
my hairs.
people had often told her
"how come your daughter
is so beautiful?
She doesn't even look yours"
but she never fired back any
words slashing their tongues
by her wisdom rather she
got herself busy making world
a bit better
despite those dark stares.
She is fierce and proportionally
she wants their daughter to
be, a fierce fighter
also kind enough to bend
even her foes
on their knees.
She is what you call a goddess
or more accurately a wonder
woman nowadays.
She is an epitome of
love, happiness, and life, what
resembles a true choice of how
an ideal woman should be.
But
My Appa has come a long way
with his belief of what ideal is
See!
growing up what he had seen
was just another ideal replica
mirroring his mother only.
A woman who would sustain
her entire life on three khadi saree,
with her abilities to make
the most delicious curry
felt like heaven in every scoop
he would gulp
pondering his heart more and
more.
feeding insufficient tummies
erasing misery like a true Teresa
sister would have done.
she was his epitome of bravery,
crooked smile and a pair
of hope glimmering eyes.
His entire life
brought up by one definition
one ideal deal is what he saw
now a sudden change. A sudden
flip of choices was might
not be a good sustain.
for one had his heart
and other made him follow
one.
Appa often talks about
how I portray a stale
replica of his mother,
a memory in his brain also
the essence of his wife's stubborn-
ness, a life he has no right
to blame
joint by his lone
obtain.
For him, an amalgamation lies
within his offspring.
A definition he himself is seeing
everyday change.
Appa might not be the
the best expert of women
or idealism coz what
all this time he had seen is a
change of choices. A choice.
A change of practices casting
shadows over his
humane.
P.S. - Appa loves Amma, don't get me wrong but somethings are incompetent as you know.
By Shivani Negi
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