The moms were there and dads were too
best men glowed, bridesmaids glowered
they tilted heads and swelled with joy
as the coupling saw each other’s eyes
with bright exuberance and wild passion
exchanging bands with studded jewels.
Though an entire congregation witnessed,
none would’ve guessed how it all ended.
Tag: love
To Be a Teenager
I once told my mother that I didn’t want her to be my friend. She was my mother, and I wanted her to be just that. But she had got it into her head from some hip self-help book that parents of teenagers should be their friends.
And I didn’t want that. After reading similar emotions on Quora, I realised I wasn’t the only one. And for good reason too.
Teenage is wonderful. It’s when we get to see the world in a new light, experience the pangs of attraction, affection, and even lust. It’s the time to roam around carefree and enjoy life for what it is.
Except, teenage is also when a child goes through a lot of things she doesn’t understand. Like the physical changes in her body, the unpronounceable hormones that show up from nowhere, attraction (or aversion) to people, and (goodness!) mood swings that are just too confusing to comprehend.
What’s more, we’re in the mobile era. The world expects teenagers to know everything; to discuss the latest tech buzz during dinner, finish a 30-inch essay in minutes, do some sort of sport, and break (even Olympic) records that they’ve never heard of before. The 21st century is not the teenager’s haven.
For a child starting out to navigate our conniving society, handle breakups and peer pressure, understand that mom and dad don’t talk to each other, and still perform well in school is too much of an ask.
Their heads are filled with emotions they can’t identify, thoughts they don’t know to express, and doubts they can’t clarify. They’d go to school happy and come back with a broken heart and no clue as to why they feel that way. Is it the teacher yelling at them for a silly grammar mistake, friends getting lunch without them, or that the cute boy in class hadn’t shown up that day? Anything could break their hearts. Because teenage is a myriad of hormones.
That’s why they need direction. They don’t need yet another friend to talk to because their friends have the same problems. What’s more, sometimes they don’t even trust friends.
Teenagers don’t need another friend in their parents. They need advice, instead. They want parents to teach them to handle a situation, not just acknowledge it — as friends do.
Children realise that their parents have already tackled the reins of teenage. And no matter how much they argue, complain, or swear at their parents for imposing a curfew after 10 pm, they know it’s for their good. Deep down, teenagers love their parents for those tiny rules because they know mom’s got their back. After all, a parent is always a stronger authority than a friend.
That’s why teenagers want parents to be parents. Because a mom who’s got her life sorted is motivation for a child to get her’s too.
What I Saw
She stood in front of a mirror, her eyes fixed on her reflection. Her lips curled into a disapproving sneer, as she cringed at what she saw.
“What do you see?”
She saw a huge brown forehead, cowering underneath bushy black side bangs. She saw a pair of sharp black eyebrows, hovering over round blue eyes.
A long nose with a pointy end and pale lips dry to the surface.
An over-stretched pored skin and a blunt chin with a dent on the side. Streaks of straight short hair tucked behind meaty ring-less ears.
She thought she saw a shadow of a cheekbone. And a pair of squared glasses enclosed in a plastic frame of black with a sliver of red.
I said nothing.
I looked at the woman who ignored drooping eyes to stay up all night nursing my chicken pox.
I looked at the woman whose eyebrows curved as she concentrated on keeping my egg yolk runny.
I looked at the woman who told me I wasn’t crazy when I wanted to get my ears pierced. The woman who stood by my side when the world turned its back on me.
And I saw the woman I cherished.
She Wanted the Life of a Poet
She wanted the life of a poet
dreamed it as perfect as a duet
vowed to stay in bounds of love
yearning, all the while, a cove
the strain tugged at her temples
whilst she hugged onto herself
the baby wailed every other hour
the kettle whistled during her slumber
her husband dragged himself home
tired from dawdling in office gossip
and screamed over the baby’s cries
that she wasn’t attentive enough.
Many a friend the pair entertained
toured the house, showcased the baby
promised to pay visits in return
it was a custom never questioned.
From baby they progressed to kids
he went away for days with busy work
the metaphors that clung to her chest
threatened to let go unless let out
but a boy and a girl were chores enough
she put pen to paper only in her mind
settled little brawls in the meantime
she wanted to be a poet with a life
got a household with a louse instead.
I Looked at Her
I looked at her
as she lay in my bed
her eyes closed in peace
slumber I never knew
the curls of her hair
sway with blowing breeze
the blond of her curls
boiled jealousy in my veins
and while she lay there
unsuspecting, unknowing
and I there, all too knowing
I reached out, couldn’t help but,
a hand to caress her tresses
she remained still as a leaf
on a windless summer’s night
as I twisted a longing finger
through her summoning swirls
but she stayed immobile as always
darling dearest, my gift, my doll.
The Chaos Within 