womanhood

a work in progress

Category: Motherhood (Page 2 of 21)

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My Boys

I’m here.

Miles away from my boys.
My man and my son.

The cheeks that brush mine so often.
The arms that spread wide open to engulf me.

My man.
The wise counsel at night when I’m restless and anxious.

My son.
The abundant love that never doubts me.

The two of them.
Fill my world.
On most days.

Being without them makes me feel like I’m walking around without a pair of my limbs.
I don’t know why the credit card account is blocked.
I don’t know when lunch time has passed.
I don’t know how to find the strength to fill a day with more fabric talk.

And I long.
For each of them.

Each hug filling my insides.

But.
That said.

I grow stronger each passing moment.
I learn about export duties.
I know how to send a firm “no” non-verbally at a harassing taxi driver.
I smile at receptionists and I know they find the magic in my smile,
A magic I thought I’d lost long ago.
I realise I’ve paid double per metre than I needed to.
I am pampered by others in my life, I usually care not to notice.

The mother coming home to Aru is anew.
The wife coming to V is anew.

The learning is in the risk you take.
The growth is in the leap you rise to.
When you feel pain, there is some kind of personal journey happening right there.
So don’t run.
Stay.

Feel it anyway.
Because.
The only way out.
Is through.

X
K

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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!

Angst

I don’t think you understand.
What it feels like.
To not know.
When he’ll pounce next.
To leave the home in fear that your baby might not be in safe hands.
To see bulging eyes.
To know that you.
You. 
Are not present.
In that moment.
So far gone.
You could do anything.
And so today.
Like other days.
I hold my shit together.
He cries in my arms.
But what if.
What if tomorrow.
I rile up?
What if tomorrow he hits you?
Then what you gone do?
With all that angst?
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Setting the bar

When I measure my selfworth upon your standards and your approval and your acceptance.It is the most ruthless, cruel and brutal way I can begin to be with myself.

X

K

// 

I’ve started to realise now, how I let people set the bar for me in the past. They probably didn’t do it intentionally. But from parents, to teachers, to men I’ve loved and women I’ve adored. They all had their own standards for things and for some reason,  I wanted to meet their approval, to be good enough for them. For so long.

Now I know. The best thing for me. Is to be good enough for me. 

That’s it. X

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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

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Do children ever heal?

From the ruler.

From the belt.

From the spatula.

From the rolling pin.

From the terror.

From the fear.
Or do they grow into adults.

Who cower in the corner.

Or yell till they reach the end.

Who slam the door, not to win, but to shield.

Or taunt and poke at every turn.

Who can’t control their raging bodies.
We learn different methods of coping.

Different methods of winning.
As if this senselessness is the only way to sail thru.

The thing is.

How much are we changing.

And how much are we passing on?
Xx

K
//
I am not perfect. Trust me. I am NOT. 

For Aru. I seem to want to be. My own anger, moodiness and rage, frightens me. I don’t know why violence is such a massive thing for me. Perhaps this life. Perhaps past lives. 

To raise a man who doesn’t hit his wife, will be a magical thing for me. We’ve got a long way to go. And if this is one thing I can do to help make it happen, manage myself, work with my husband, his father. Then I will do it, the best way I can, the best way I know how. 

Inshallah. 

Xx

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Making Men

We make the men we love.Because the growing never stops.

There is always.

A strong woman somewhere.

In the men we admire the most. 

K
// V and I have moulded a lot since day one. At some point in time, I kept moulding to him. I didn’t think to question, doubt or change him. I accepted him. And I’m not saying that you should accept the men you love. But sometimes, they don’t know how to stack glasses on a dish rack so the water drains, or they don’t know about the gender pay gap. Or they don’t know that they’re being patronising when they’re aiming for loving. And so I feel. 

It is part of my role. As his partner. To simply. Make him aware. And then sit back. And watch the magic of change just go… ding ding ding. 

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Desires

At what point did my own desires have no meaning to me? To the point where I couldn’t
Be. 

Bothered.

To make them happen. 
Xx

K
// I realised, at some point. I’d stopped going to concerts. Stopped watching movies at the cinema. Stopped having chocolate milkshakes. I stopped doing the things I loved. And in so many ways, it made life meaningless. To the point where I asked myself, 

What the fuck am I even looking forward to today?

So I guess now, I’m making my day worth waking up for. 

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Responsibilities 

It’s our responsibility to ask the questions.
X

K
// I always felt I didn’t need to know about the investments, about the money, about the fine lines, about my own health and more. I put this ownice on Vivek. I’m learning now. Everything to do with me and Aru, is my responsibility. And I need to know, I need to be informed. 

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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