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Women carry the burden of being caregivers - caring for a special child, an elder who is bedridden, or a loved one suffering from Alzheimer's. These can be labours of love, but what about me-time for her?
Women carry the burden of being caregivers – caring for a special child, an elder who is bedridden, or a loved one suffering from Alzheimer’s. These can be labours of love, but what about me-time for her?
I love you dearly, though from what I’m going to say My sentiments may not come across that way- There are days when in a sleep-deprived daze I feel I cannot go on any longer, pretending to be unfazed By the constant exposure to unpleasant fluids varied I clean silently, but sometimes I can not succeed In hiding my revulsion at the sights and odours I try to benumb myself until the clean-up is over Then sink back exhausted in the armchair
When you take a nap- yet I try to be aware At all times of your discomfort and your needs If I do not respond timely, I feel guilty indeed..
I know it is a herculean task for you and me To drive you to your appointments, definitely Yet here’s a secret I am ashamed to reveal- On those days a frisson of excitement I feel At the thought of an opportunity for interaction With other human beings- it gives me some satisfaction To know that there is life outside of these walls We can still enjoy the beauty of spring, summer and fall..
I know we both wish things were not this way When you call me for help, I can see the dismay In your eyes that yet again you need me Yet again you have demonstrated your dependency
When friends call me for a night out and I reply, inevitably That I am busy, I can see your eyes tearing up for me You talk about another caregiver to unburden me But both of us this is not possible (at least usually) With limited finances and other constraints
Besides, I have almost learnt to practice restraint Where entertainment and social activities are concerned- If I have spare time, I try to enjoy the rest I have earned..
Then there are those days when I am exhausted beyond measure And there appears my savior, those moments I treasure When a friend offers to help for a few hours or a day I feel relieved; I know you do too, more than you would say
This break from caregiving reminds me of how much I love you And why caring for you is what I would gladly continue to do…
Published here earlier.
Header image is a still from the movie Waiting
I am a woman, a physician, a mother and an aspiring writer rolled into one. I write about various aspects of my life, and my preferred form of writing is poetry (or rhyming verses). read more...
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UP Boards Topper Prachi Nigam was trolled on social media for her facial hair; our obsession with appearance is harsh on young minds.
Prachi Nigam’s photo has been doing the rounds on social media for the right reasons. Well, scratch that- I wish the above statement were true. This 15-year-old girl should ideally be revelling in her spectacular achievement of scoring a whopping 98.05% and topping her tenth-grade boards. But oddly enough, along with her marks, it’s something else that garners more attention – her facial hair.
While the trolls are driving themselves giddy by mocking this girl who hasn’t even completed her school yet, the ones who are taking her side are going one step ahead – they are sharing her photoshopped pictures, sans the facial hair, looking nothing less than a celebrity with captions saying – “Prachi Nigam, ten years later”.
Doctors have already diagnosed her with PCOD in their comments, based on photographic evidence. While we have names for people shamed for their weight – body shaming, for their skin colour- racism, for their age- age shaming, for being a female- sexism, this category of shaming where one faces criticism for their appearance has no name. With that, it also has zero shame attached to it.
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