For the Indian Bride

Sometimes I think and mostly do not,

Sometimes it bothers or may be not,

When the question,

That inevitable one,

Sooner or later, it arrives,

From the moment I am promoted as a wife.

My wedding make up is still not gone,

The woman in me yet to be turned on,

Only yesterday I had my first night,

And today both sides expect a news delight!

Let me know him, feel him, want him

O! Love him right;

Then for few others,

This skips for a year, two, three or five,

One sunny day, rainy day or wintry night,

“What was she doing all this while?”

Comes up a statement surprise;

“Or maybe she is barren”

A taunt so harsh might arise;

I think hard, I think wise,

What was I doing all this while?

I married, I loved, I worked and I stuffed,

I aspired, struggled and really tired,

I saved; I spent, no holiday yet,

I shifted; I drifted, lost and found,

My irritation, pain, frustration aloud,

So many worries and I thrive,

How could I carry in me a ‘life’?

When, How, Where and Why?

Somehow I didn't do it, anyway,

No reason, no fuss, no fear,

I will give nothing for excuse,

Because I do not refuse,

Yes, I do not,

I do desire,

Of growing fat without bother,

Of eating whatever I gather,

Of getting pampered, rather,

Of motherhood, that would never wither,

But I will not have it for another,

For no force, no pressure, no mockery,

would my womb give in to so easily,

When she is ready,

She would whisper to me,

With my partner in hand,

I would home you my baby.

( Motherhood needs to be a decision of the couple involved and not a forced rule of the family (both sides) , by large. This poem is just another viewpoint on that.  )

© Copyright Salvwi Prasad (POETICbug)