An unearthly five a.m. buzzes
Exhausted, but eager, she rises
Toys and the TV remote adorn the floor
She picks and preens till the sun begins to soar
A quick brush here, a small shower there
She chops teary onions with potatoes to pare
A half hour later when the kitchen’s chores are done
With kisses and caresses, she wakes her little son
She bathes, scrubs and dresses her baby with adulation
Feeds him, packs his lunch and sees him to the bus station
Her once gentle and silky hands, launder the pile of dirty
clothes
In all this rush, her kindness intact, she feeds some grains
to the crows
At 8:30, with the rising heat, she watches her lordly
husband rise
No greetings or hugs, he gulps his coffee and eats his curry
and rice
He bickers and complains about her laxity and nitpicks her
culinary skills
She knows he loved the meal nevertheless, when he burps as
his belly fills
While he rushes to the office, she hovers near him, for his small
or big commands
She finds his sock, polishes his shoes, irons his shirt even
without his demands
Scolding and cursing, he leaves for office, driving away in
his car
She heaves a sigh of relief at last, and waves to him till
he’s far
It is but for a brief moment, that she recalls her own, once
flourishing career
She had quit without complaint, on her husband’s order, as
her family she held very dear
With the chores all done, she eats the leftovers and allows
herself a small nap
It seems like just a few minutes have passed, when she hears
her front door rap
Newspaper man, vegetable vendor and the neighbour start
pouring in
Worn and tired, she handles it all; she slogs till her head
takes a spin
It’s late afternoon when she picks up her child and carries
him all the way home
Then she heads to the market, buys the groceries and her
husband’s shaving foam
Back home at last, without a moment’s rest, she goes off to
help her little one
His homework aplenty, they finish together, his bags are all
packed and done
It’s 8:30 p.m. and she’s back at the kitchen, cooking the
family’s supper
Her husband walks in, flops on the sofa, with his work
pressure he goes hyper
She takes it in all, like an obedient wife, while her family
eats their dinner plentiful
She eats at last, what is left, clears the dining table,
scrubs the dishes in the sink full
She reads to her baby till his soft snores resound like a
melody in her tired ears
She bathes and changes, and her husband beckons, at night
she to him endears
Weak but yielding, she submits herself to his throes of
passion
He moves back and dozes off, after he spends all his carnal
possession
Her body is worn, her mind all sleepy but only tears come to
her eyes
She’s unaware when she slept off, it’s 5 a.m. now, yet again
she has to rise
One may think how and why, one chooses to inspire, one’s
poetry with a mere housewife
Seldom we know, never we acknowledge, her numerous battles
throughout her strife
How one gentle person can put up with so much, and stay
strong, living at the tip of a knife
Because she’s a woman, a mother, a wife, a daughter and
more, this is how stirring is her life
