Mom

 


I’m not sure if idyllic is the right word to say when I was enough to be between two arms.

 

Or mom was when her own flesh materialised in front of her.

 

The glacial weather was bearable because her tiny reflection warmed her insides, she said. A winter’s tale started that day.

 

It still persists. A perennial winter.

 

The youngest daughter has birthed a girl, in a man’s world. Hence, a gilded cage is a must.

 

The exception is, mom was in the cage too. And now even more than I am.

 

I made a gigantic dent, but mom couldn’t fly through it.

 

The horrors persist, but so does her flailing wings. 

 

Comments

  1. You gave me the identity of a mother and nothing can replace this. I would like to see your dream comes true and expectation is to be a pure human being. May Allah SWT always keep you in His blessing.

    ReplyDelete
  2. @Tasneem Azim,I love your unique writing voice.You have a real talent for evoking emotion in ur writing. Blessing 🤍🤍

    ReplyDelete

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