- About Us
We will be in conversation with Nikita Singh and talking all things love and books! 22nd Feb Mumbai | 23rd Feb Bangalore.
#Poetry. Why me? Asks this working mother. She wishes to be at home, then compares herself to a friend who wanted to work but could not.
Again I could manage just the usual jam and bun
I wish I had time to cook for my little one.
Endless vehicles on the road will give me a greeting
No time for breakfast again,
Wonder why I really need to take all this pain
I will have to hit the canteen after answering my mails
Back to back meetings, deadlines and audit trails
Sometimes, I ask myself, am I doing justice to both,
Home to office, office to home, on the run to and forth.
I wish I could cook for my loved ones
And play with them, but my time runs
Shwetha, my dear friend, who finished college with me
With better scores she got a coveted job, a great place to be
But marriage and motherhood took her career away
Though she has time, a feeling of emptiness was here to stay
A dutiful wife, doting mother and caring daughter that she has been
But her eyes reveal her unfulfilled dreams and talent, left unseen
Sometimes I envy her, sometimes I feel bad for her
Mother, aunt, grandmother, you spent your entire life for near and dear
Yet, you seemed happy, was it satisfaction or simple needs, I wonder
If I start weighing things on the balance of life
On one there is sacrifice, on the other there’s stress and strife
On one there is time, on the other there’s money
Life is a mixture of lemon and honey
Sometimes sour, sometimes sweet
Like the changing seasons of cold and heat
But why do I, as a woman always have to make a choice
Between speaking up for myself or suppressing my voice
Between being there for my children or fulfilling my dreams
Everytime I try to fly up high, why do I hear screams
Why do I have to answer a million questions on the ride?
Why do I feel like I am up against a tide?
Image source: shutterstock