Monday, July 27, 2015

A Mother's Muse

She tiptoed into my room,

Like a monsoon breeze, unaware

She strutted around for a while, fiddling with things.

She stood in front of a mirror, admiring herself, surveying her looks for the last time.

She picked up a bindi and placed it on her bright forehead.

Wrapped a dupatta like a saree

Puffed some talc from the case, all set to go.

And then she told her playmate- That's how Ma dresses up when she goes out with Papa!

From the corner of the curtain I looked at her, lost in thought. 

There will be a time when she will dress up and leave.

She will...dress up, and leave.

She will dress up... and leave. 

1 comment:

What do you think?