The Prayer of a Daughter

I pray not for myself
Contented am I with the gifts of infancy
My mother blessed me with
Bickering with her better half to bring me forth
For their bundle of joy lacked mirth
Set to enter the world of frills
Yet she endured me, for nine months
Through searing pain, birthed a fruitless labour of love

I pray not for myself
Contented am I with the home I was bestowed with
A few breaths of air once outside her
Then she wrapped my shriveled self in a generous warm rag
Gave me care in the cradle of her arms, though momentary
Helpless, put me to bed on a mushy rotting sack
Weeping, she left me under the stars
Nudged by a breeze loaded with
The smells of the sweat of my first shelter
Where everything decomposed to give me a warm organic bed
To lie down and rest, to live
For so many others too, my siblings
Under the roof of the skies
Tiny flies buzzed in my unformed ears, singing sweet lullabies
Grunting pigs to reassure me of company
Amidst my wails, the barking of street dogs
Baying for my precious life, to devour the tender flesh off me
But when my tear laden eyes saw her face
In the moon’s glow, I understood the challenge to me
There were devils yes, but despite them I was meant to be
Her maternity shrouded me as the moonlight
I slept; I did survive that unforgiving night

I pray not for myself
Contented am I, with human care at last
A human to eventually pick me up from the squalor
Not my mother but a mother nevertheless
No maternity in her breast but motherhood in her heart nevertheless
Sweet kisses that erased the memories of our own teary farewell
A family with real people, real siblings, real human love
Welcomed me heartily into my warm pink world

I’m happy
I pray not for me but for you
You, who returned that night, empty arms, empty womb
Lonely days you spent emptying yourself of blood, milk and tears
In an empty home to live with an empty heart
With an empty someone, who loved the fruits
But not the labour that your sex took
In this barrenness, you missed the bundle
That could’ve filled your waiting arms
Of the fairer sex like you, but not devoid of her unique charms
No chubby finger to jab at you and suckle at your love
No ribbons for curly plaits no pink frocks and all above
You missed your live doll to play with dolls
A sweet and innocent heart to love you through your falls
You missed the pretty maiden to whom you’d have been
A friend, philosopher and guide to be with in embarrassing teens
A growing woman, to bring up strong
To fight the uncompromising chauvinist world
To fight with you as well, why her skirts were too long
To question you in everything that you said was ladylike
Later a woman like you, your own confidante
A head to nod, ears to listen and a heart to sympathize
With your own complaints, against the world or household
Or even how burdensome this stubborn girl was to you
Till you bade her a teary farewell, this time happily
The light of your home to light up another
Just the way you did

I pray not for myself, mother, but for you
My father who took a narrow minded turn, for you too
You may have saved some cost by preferring an earning boy
Than a trusting, loving, caring girl
But it’s a daughter you missed