THE MOTHER
The other day,
I read in the newspapers
Of how a young mother
Had dug her nails
Into the tender neck
Of her newborn
And drawn out the lifeblood
The life that had grown
For nine long months
In the dark warmth of her womb
The life that had grown
For nine long months
In the soil of her own flesh and blood
I wondered what made her do it
What evil forces of anger, hatred or despair
But then I learnt that it was a girl child
The third that had been born to her
The woman had known
That she had failed
Yet again
That she had given birth
To another woman
A woman who had no right
To live, to breathe, to partake of Nature's bounties
Her very existence
On God's earth
Was a crime, for which
She must forever repent
The only atonement was
To bring forth a man child
Into this world
For then and only then
Would her miserable female life
Find some worth
But this wretched mother had failed
Again and again and again
Her blind fury
Had fastened on the tiny throat
And she had watched in numb despair
The trickling of her own lifeblood
The throttling of her own womanhood
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THE COMPANION
We walk together
You and I
My faceless companion
You were a silent witness
When I entered the world
A squirming, screaming little lump
Of humanity
You smiled indulgently
At my first faltering steps
And then
As time went on
Life in all its many colored hues
Enchanted me, ensnared me and convinced me
Of my invincibility
But, even then
You wait and watch and bide your time
And then, one day
On a lonely path
I feel your touch
Upon my shoulder
Taken unawares
I turn and smile
For you, Death
Are my friend
Your name strikes no terror
In my heart
Because I know
That whatever begins
Must always end
And that, you and I
Will walk together
Hand in hand always
On the tightrope between
Mortality and Immortality
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THE MIRROR
