That must be hard on her
Her mata-pita must be in real need of money.
Or her mata wanted her to live a better life.
Little do they know what happens here
The world surrounds with culture and manipulated traditions over convenience
All the traditional conventions
Hiding our truth in the name of true selves
She must very tiny to live
Very tiny to leave.
Is she really going to give a descendant
Nah----I don't think so
My son would brighten the light and the spark of my world
She wouldn't be a competition to me
I'm dreaming of his tiny legs
Tell him stories of wisdom and life.
Give him the love he wants
My natha all to me and him
My maaji over the freedom she has given paramanadini ages before her son's death...
My son would be different
My life would be different
A platter full of love to new woman
I wonder if me and son were there
With all the love i could always have
Only earning for those days
Ooh...he kicks me so hard all the time
He must be really earning to live in this family
He is indeed active all the time
What if he is not active here anymore!!
Maybe he should take some rest
Maybe I should take some rest
But the harathi should be given
Maa ji would'nt stress if it wasn't important
Here she comes sweet
Her bindi and kumkum lined
Her only tie to my world on her neck
Hanging upside down
Oh please fix it.
Her eyes always down
Doesn't dare to head up
Never met each other's eye
I'd train my son to do that
Her veil back again clumsy
Her hair tiny and struck up
God!I love her innocence
I hope she is one for me
All these thoughts and platter handed to me
Isn't that the first honour I'm getting now
I love this royalty
I'm getting used to it
My body feels heavy
My heart feels thrilled
My stomache feels churned
My steps feels numb
I hope my son is fine with that
Until the harathi was given to remove all bads here
My natha and her eyes down
Hands over sweat
Sweat looking like tears
Kumkum shredding to her nose
Scars hidden thanks to us
"Dheergha sumangali bhava"I blessed her with all my heart
For my greats and greater good
YOU ARE READING
Shackles
PoetryThis poetry ballads are about a very young child who grew up with very less restrictions. As she grew up! Her Restrictions were very tightened up. Will she break them up? Or abode them? Is she going to stand individual or be a slave to her elderly...
