womanhood

a work in progress

Category: Letters to Aru (Page 1 of 3)

Dear Aru (April end, 2018),

You’re the sweetest thing, but I don’t know why, I’m grumpy all the time.

I’m trying to ease off at work.

Maybe meditate more, maybe get back into yoga.

You’re my sign.

You’ve always been my sign.

My sign posts.

The one person in the world, whom I mistreat the most.

You just asked me to read to you and I said no.

You haven’t had your dinner and I’m so disappointed.

I’m sorry sweetheart.

I wish I could be loving all the time.

Or at least a little more.

Instead of filling you with my neutral / nothing vibes.

I’m sorry.

Xx

K

Dear Aru (April end, 2018),

It’s dawning on me.

That I made your life work around mine.

I wanted you to come along.

To be adulting.

To meet pattern makers.

Sit patiently in the office.

Play on your own, with whatever was around.

I made your life work around mine.

And that is a GOOD thing.

(Don’t you go trying to guilt trip me on this one).

But.

I also think.

It’s important for you to do things you want.

And for me to work around your life (a little).

A cricket class here.

A lego session there.

Reading an extra book.

Or just cuddling for a little longer.

That is so hard for me sweetheart.

So so so hard.

Especially when I could be ironing, tidying, cooking, emailing, photoshopping, insta-posting etc. You get the gist.

I have always, actually, not always, but often chosen productivity over you.

Productivity and Netflix.

So I’m going to try and be better.

Try and get it together.

And be a little less having it all together.

For you.

For me.

For us.

X

Dear Aru (Mid-April, 2018), 

It’s been a long time. 

A long, long time.

You’ve been patient with me, while I’ve been catty with you. 

It’s hard to explain to a 3 year old what a miscarriage is. 

Or even think it’s appropriate for them to know. 

Mummy had a baby in her tummy and then the baby died. 

So mummy is sad. 

Daddy is in struggle town as he assesses our drained finances. 

Contemplating whether to sell the apartment or get a loan. 

Mummy and Daddy can’t be there for each other, like they usually are. 

Because some major shit went down. 

Is that how it goes? 

And I know. The ship will turn. The winds will change. The sun will shine. 

But maybe one day. 

When you’re going through some shit of your own. 

You come here. 

You read this. 

And you trust. 

That.

You’ll make it through. 

Just like us. 

X

Your Maa. 

Dearest Aru (Early November, 2017),

I’ve been away from you for two weeks now and it has been painful. Every time I hear your cherry voice, I’m surprised that your tone isn’t angry at me for being away. It’s simply happy to hear me.

I want to find a way to bring you with me. To be together more, apart less.
But your daddy and I are particular about whom we choose to care for you.

I love you Aru. I love you deeply.

So I’m coming home with elephants and tigers and a heart full of you.

X
K

Dear Aru (early May, 2017)

Hey Poochie,
I don’t know where the mind goes.
How to tame it.
Whether it should be tamed or understood.

But for you.
I try to be good.
Even if my mind is pulling me elsewhere.

But what is good?
Who defines and decides that?

One day, your eyebrows might raise.
As your start to unravel your maa.
As you start to know the world is round and
People do things differently to good.

And I guess.
I want to be good for you.
So you know it’s possible.
But I’m learning now.

That maybe it’s not.
Not all the time, for everything anyway.

So I guess.
If I can be accepting of you.
Then perhaps I’ve taught you a thing or two.
About what I need for us when it comes to me.

X
K

Dear Aru (mid March, 2017),

You are my barometer.
Yesterday and today, I didn’t want to be around you.
I wanted a break.

But why?
You’ve been at daycare most of the week!
Your dad is here to help.
So why.

Don’t I want to be with you?
I feel like you steal time away from me.
Steal opportunities from me.
Steal peace from me.

To browse a store.
To capture a moment in a gallery.
To be at peace, flicking a page in a novel.

Darling Aru.

I know now.
As I learn over and over and over again.

These are simply things.

I have not given myself.
And I really truly need to.

Prioritise them.

So I can come home to you.

Xx
K

Trite but True

I never knew just how much I loved you till the moment I thought i might loose you.

X

K

Dear Aru (mid Feb, 2017)

My Dearest Aru,

I love you all over again.

In that deep unrelenting way.

And it is glorious.

My heart beat beat beats for you.

Boom boom boom.

My chakras spin for you.

And my feelings.

Oh. My feelings.*

 

We are buddies again.

It is glorious.

And I realise.

All over again.

And again.

 

How can I love you?

If I don’t love myself?

 

How can I honour you?

If I don’t honour myself?

 

How can I respect you?

When I don’t respect myself?

And so.

 

To love you,

I’m listening to me.

To my insides.

Hearing them say,

 

Karishma, take time out.

Karishma, stress less.

Karishma, do a little dance.

Karishma, get take aways tonight.

Karishma, go to work and do what you love.

 

Karishma.

Feel no guilt.

Feel no fucking guilt my child.

Just love yourself and the rest will follow.

 

And for you Aru,

I have the deepest, heartfelt, bloomingly, wild delightful love.

All for you.

Because I started with me.

 

X

K

 

*Sometimes my poetry comes from lines I’ve heard / read in the past. I don’t know how it seeps into the keyboard. But this line (and I had to share for you Jane Austen enthusiasts – comes from here (https://youtu.be/CgkS5_PTfZQ)  at 1:10). SWOON Moment!

Dear Aru, (end of March, 2017)

You are my barometer. 
Yesterday and today, I didn’t want to be around you. 

I wanted a break. 
But why? 

You’ve been at daycare most of the week! 

Your dad is here to help. 

So why. 
Don’t I want to be with you? 

I feel like you steal time away from me. 

Steal opportunities from me. 

Steal peace from me. 
To browse a store. 

To capture a moment in a gallery. 

To be at peace, flicking a page in a novel. 
Darling Aru. 
I know now.

As I learn over and over and over again. 
These are simply things. 
I have not given myself. 

And I really truly need to. 
Prioritise them. 
So I can come home to you. 
Xx

K

My Dearest Aru (late Feb, 2017),

There was a time in our lives. 

When for a week or two, 

It was just, 

Me & you. 

And on a dark Friday, 

You had a febrile seizure. 

I’d never seen a seizure before. 

I thought you could die. 

Or get brain damage. 

It was the most horrifying experience I’d ever been through. 

Watching your body loose control, 

Your eyes peering at me in confusion as if to say, 

“Why is this happening Maa?”. 

I caught you trembling, your eyes dilating. 

Beseeching my sister, “What do I do D?”. 

After you stopped trembling, my whole body started. 

  1. 111. 000. 999. 
  2. I didn’t know the number to make the fucking call. 

Finally it went through. 

You were breathing. 

You were breathing. 

You were breathing. 

8 minutes for the paramedics. 

But the worst was over after that. 

But I was anew. 

Wedded to you in a different way. 

Melded even. 

And in that fucking moment. 

I knew. 

I knew that even if I never really understood the word “love”. 

If I ever doubted that I loved you. 

That I truly loved you and wanted you in my life. 

THAT WAS BULLSHIT. 

I loved you, breathed you from my deepest insides. 

For now, there is a seamless thread in our lives. 

You begin where I end. 

As if that cord was never cut. 

So my dearest Aru. 

Don’t you dare go trying to die on me. 

Because it really might just be the death of me. 

X

K

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