To the boomer who called my baby a burden

A throwaway remark
dished out at lunch,
oozing slyly
at the colleague/husband
by someone who has
never provided for me,
and never will.

You have no idea,
how and why we choose
to live with each other,
nursing our soreness,
standing up to face the world,
while a little being observes us
closely, intently.

As I step out to earn
he steps in to rear
I let her fall, dust her wounds,
needing her to be tough
he dresses her up,
makes her look into the mirror
to feel beautiful
I teach her to live
with what we have
He allows her to indulge
every once in a while

There is no space in our lives
for unmeasured judgments
or unimaginative minds
weighed down
by the beliefs of yesteryears
You cannot begin to fathom
this magnanimously beautiful chaos
we have painstakingly worked on.

We sit
on each other's shoulders
we are our own giants,
learning, dancing, fighting, fluid,
filling each other's voids
with everything
that is anything but a burden.

13.01.2020

Published in Cafe Dissensus Everyday blog in April 2020

https://cafedissensusblog.com/2020/04/07/three-poems-by-pooja-ugrani/

Also published in The Kali Project: Invoking the Goddess Within / Indian Women’s Voices on 08/01/2021 by Indie Blu(e) publishers