Two Lines | ✓

nineteen

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Mother.

A mother is not just someone who gives you half of chromosomes from your diploid set and some of the extra genetic material. She's not just someone who provides nutrition and care in all those months when you kicked or danced around her womb, and enjoyed free food and grew like balloon. She's not just someone who gushed you out her small vagina with bone cracking pain and smiled while you cried like hopeless creature to take your first breath. She's not just that person who sacrificed her sweet sleep to keep you in warm embrace and breastfeed you or clean your poop and laugh at your toothless grin. She's just not a person who held you while your hindlimbs didn't support you to walk or hid her cries behind her strong exterior before scolding you because she wasn't able to see your teary eyes. She's just not a person who makes you your favourite dish or admonishes you for your habits or checks you at midnight and covers you with the stupid blanket which you stupidly threw away. She's not just a human, she's the God you search everywhere, walking alive with you.

And Kanak felt difficult to breath. She couldn't be someone's God, not even her own.

"You are fucking crazy!"

She wanted to know more about this Bhaskar. She wanted to get answers to so many things. She wanted to know why he felt that way, she wanted to know who was his mother, she wanted to know what was in her to make him feel that way.

And above all, she wanted to be away from him. Because he reminded her of someone who had left her alone, long back with his defeated eyes. Life had stung her hard.