mother taught me
to love beyond boundaries.
the funny thing is,
she never taught me.
I almost picked up everything,
by myself,
everyday,
step by step.
in this house
marriage was just an alliance
two people providing for children.
she gave me everything,
her parents could never.
mother taught me
cooking the perfect meal,
welcoming people in our home,
and our heart.
taking care,
of the little inconveniences,
for others’ comfort.
mother taught me
growing,
amidst the traumas.
nourishing others,
after the day’s over.
mother taught me
being fierce,
standing firm on your ground.
facing the storm,
the aftershocks.
but
she did not teach me any of it,
it was just for her daughters.
and I,
I just happened
to pick it up.
I still remember
the stories,
her unfulfilled dreams.
she expects me,
to fulfil father’s dreams.
I still remember
when no one read her mind,
nor did she speak.
the elders announced,
the voices of men suffice.
I still remember
as a little boy,
my sisters as little girls
watering the plants,
never knowing where to stop.
as an adult,
I keep loving people,
still
not knowing how to stop.
through her marriage
mother taught me
sometimes
love fails us.
as an adult,
I don’t understand
“what to do when we fail love?”
she always told me
"Rajeev...always be a good man!"
as an adult,
I wonder
“why do good people always make the worst mistakes?”
I still remember
screams,
silenced and otherwise.
midnight fights
in which she never fought for herself,
but for us,
our safety.
mother taught me
to never give up.
but then,
she never did,
because,
I picked it up.
now
I’m twenty-two,
inferring life,
hanging by a thread.
“I feel like a woman,
like my mother”
I keep loving,
everyone,
I get along with
filling
absence.
I'm her,
in other ways
like my love,
for you
unconditional.
her condition
loved others,
never herself.
my lovers say
“we love the way you love”
and then,
leave.
mother
never left,
neither us
nor herself
from whatever,
the patriarchy made of her.
“I care the same way for you,
the way she cared for me”
hell!
you even said once
“you’re just like my mother”
by learning,
what wasn’t meant for me,
she's making
a weak man.
who’ll never love himself,
she did make one.
but then,
she did not,
because,
I picked it up.
I was never close to her,
nor that I’m now.
she’s just a mother
who loves her son,
unconditionally
like all mothers.
I’m the son
who’ll only be
a disgrace.
because,
I’m queer.
I wish,
she could have,
loved herself.
I wish,
she could have,
learned
a man as a partner,
isn’t everything.
I wish,
she could have,
known
after loving everyone,
she’d still
be alone.
I wish,
she could have
been herself,
a little more,
been on her own.
I wish,
there was
more happiness,
than trade-offs,
more care,
than sacrifices,
more love,
than grief.
maybe,
I would have -
loved myself,
a little more.
maybe,
I would have
learned
to be on my own.
maybe,
I would not be
over-loving everyone,
making them,
love me
a little more.
maybe,
I would know
a companion,
isn’t everything.
maybe,
I wouldn’t be repenting
from everything!
I wish
mother loved herself,
a little more.
I wish
mother never taught her
son
that.
I’d have
picked that up.