Don't Educate Me Mom

Don't educate me mom
for I might have dreams
different from yours.

Don't educate me mom
for I might want to make choices
that will make you cringe.

Don't educate me mom
for I might want to take care of you
and choose not to marry.

Don't educate me mom
for I might stand up to dad
and reject his views.

Don't educate me mom
for I might fall in love
and embarrass your family.

Don't educate me mom
for I might have ambitions
greater than your aspirations.

Don't educate me mom
for you might not find a man
who respects an independent woman.

Don't educate me mom
for I might bring up my children
different to how you brought me up.

Don't educate me mom
for I might end up hurting you
when I make my own choice.

With education,
I will learn to think.
I will learn to form my opinions
and expand my horizons.
I will learn to build relationships
failing in some.
I will form my own values
and choose my own life journey.

Choose to keep me home,
my dear mom for I love you.

Educate me and
I will be
my own person
and lose your love.

A dedication to the many women in my life and work who are fighting to be their own person in their own families.

Unheard Cries

I am used to early mornings
darkness before dawn

Dhoti and kurta
Empty bag
I left before they woke.

I feared
they would see my fear
Didn't want to
weaken by resolve.

I walked 5 miles
in the silence of twilight
the riot of colours and sounds
beginning to embrace the morning
while the darkness in my life
engulfed me further.

I took the first bus
packed with others like me
they carrying hope
I carried despair

Their bags were full
joy in their banter
sadness in their eyes
Mine was empty
I didn't plan to return.

I avoided familiar eyes
hiding in the morning darkness
I needed to do this.
I didn't have a choice.

I overheard of a girl
raped by her employer
I heard of her courage
and prayed her to be strong.

Another in a city
a name I had not heard
was told it was in India
somewhere in the east
She succumbed
I said a silent prayer.

I wondered
'Will it be worth it?'
I didn't know what else to do.
My children's empty faces
haunted me for months
They didn't deserve this
neither did she.

She gave me her life
stood by me
as hyenas fed
on everything we owned
They took it all away
yesterday was the last straw
my dignity.

The big city bustled
I made my way quietly
Bought my provisions
and waited at the gates

I watched in fear
as the morning workers arrived
Oblivious of my intentions

I wish someone would stop
even if its to smile
for a moment more
give me hope.
Alas!

I hesitated
just for a moment.
my children...

'I need to do this my children.
Someone needs to hear our cries.'

I doused myself
Lit the match
The pain unbearable
flames erupted
it ended quickly.

I rose above
hoping to watch
the march of freedom
to save my children.
There was none. It was in vain.

My name made news
Vitthal Bhimappa Arabhavi.
There were protests
tyres burnt, roads blocked
but none to fight
for my children's hunger
and their bleak future.

I am sorry my children,
I tried, everything...
No one heard my cry
No one...

Isolated Mornings

I missed my mom's aching knee,
didn't notice my dad's lower back pain
and missed my sister's repressed turmoil

I didn't notice the bright smile
of the night security guard
still active from a night of sleeplessness.

I missed the little kid walking to school
crying for he had lost his favourite book
another being pulled by her arm
by a concerned mother
and yet another enjoying the morning breeze
on her dad's bike.

Didn't notice the bruises
on the woman down the street
as she attempted to hide them
from the beatings last night

I missed the cheerful banter
of the young vagabound
as he blissfully began
yet another day of nothingness

Sped past the busy food stall
where many an early worker
gobbled his breakfast
and the quite teeange girl
who packed her and her brother's lunch
not having a mother to cook

Didn't watch the kids
playing with rotting flowers
at their mom's stall
discovering new patterns
in a discarded pile

Looked away
from the hurried domestic help
attempting to reach her job
while struggling to keep
her mind off a poorly husband

Didn't notice the flight of pigeons
and the playful duel of the mongrels

Neither did I hear the Azaan
Nor the cacophony of the kids at school
sounds of the morning
that could have warmed my soul

So much this morning offered
and so little I received.
Isolated mornings
in a busy city
of a busy mind