Ma

There was this photo of Pa

With a strange woman,

Dressed in bridal red

In their bedroom

And Pa in the picture,

Stares at her in a

Way so unfamiliar

That I wonder If it’s ‘Love’

Too scared of Pa, I never

Asked him Who she was

Too sorry for Ma, I didn’t

Ask her Why Pa hated her so much

The clock strikes 7 and

Ma serves bhaiiyya and me, dinner

And I stare at those eyes,

Just like Pa in the picture

Hoping to find the trace

Of some long lost happiness

She looks at my face

And flashes a faint smile

She washes my face and

Gets me ready for bed

Then, she walks back to the kitchen,

Lifelessly,

Like a wrecked toy

With an old battery

 

Making sure Ma was not near

I ask bhaiyya Who the girl was?

Bhaiyya freeze on the

Sound of the doorbell

And drags me to the room to hide

He closes my ears with both his hands

And keeps me real close and tight

But still through the creaks of

The door and his fingers

I could see Pa dragging Ma

By her hair, his eyes red with anger

He slaps her Once, twice and then more, chokes her to his heart’s content

Then She, just like another day

Pleads for her life,

With dry tears and heavy sobs

The drunken man was now laughing,

He smashes her head to a nearby wall

And retreats to the bedroom

With the strange photo

I was now wet with bhaiyyas tears,

And pointing at Ma with trembling hands,

He says, “This is the woman

You see in the picture”

And I see the girl,

Now dressed in blood red, ‘My Ma'