What follows is a really long poem I wrote for my mother last year. It took every ounce of strength to publish it, it is very intimate and I never thought it would be possible for me to do it. It may not be that good, it is indeed too long, and you can skim read it if you want. What matters to me is that I found the courage to actually publish it. That in itself is enough for me.
I will still love you, no matter what!
And if I don’t, then it’s not me anymore.
For I will have lost myself forever,
If I ever stop loving you.
It’s me- Nehal.
The girl who wants a write a poem for you,
But is not sure how she can say, what hasn’t already been said.
When I was younger, I used to ponder,
How people can change when they grow up,
Just because they grow up.
How one year can make such a difference
How something that seems impossible,
Can actually at some point occur
Right before your eyes.
I may not be the best daughter ever.
I may not be the daughter that loves her mother,
More than any daughter ever can.
I may not be the Arjun who puts his palms,
Under the chin of his mother,
To collect her tears before they hit the ground.
But I still love you.
If there is anything that really makes me feel like a sinner,
Is how I have treated you, Mamma.
I have said harsh things to you in my anger.
I love you and I know you know it,
I know that it feels enough for you.
But that is not enough for me, Mamma.
I just wish I were a better daughter.
You know I hate chores,
That I hate cooking, making tea, and all the other rubbish
But I still do them for you.
You know I do not like self-serving my own food,
But I still do it.
I may get angry when I have to do all this stuff,
But I still do them, Mamma, I still do them.
And I know all these are nothing compared
To what you have done for me,
For my dad, for my Di.
But that’s the best way I can help you Mamma.
That’s the best way I can show my love.
You say to me that I have changed, because I have grown up.
Do you think I don’t say it to myself every single day?
You have gone through more than I ever want to go through.
And maybe that’s why when I feel like I may have to go through it too,
I get angry.
But Mamma, my anger is just a side aspect of my personality.
Maybe I am writing this poem,
To make you know that I love you,
Or maybe I am writing it because you deserve it.
Or maybe, I am writing it to make myself know,
And believe, that I love you.
That when I feel like a monster,
I can look at these words and say that I’m not one.
You may not be my ideal,
Or my inspiration.
You may not be the one I can be myself with anymore,
And maybe that is indeed because I have changed.
But I hate it.
I hate feeling this way.
I hate feeling that I am changing,
That there may come a point,
When I can longer be even a little bit of who I am now.
And maybe that is why I am writing this poem right now.
Maybe I am so scared of myself that I need you to know:
That when several years from now,
If, not when, but IF-I don’t know how big or small that if is but,
If you can no longer see me in myself then,
I just want you to know:
That the 14 year old writing this,
Cannot contain her tears right now.
That this girl, your daughter, is scared of herself,
And so scared she is, that sometimes, the fear is so unbearable,
That it gets hard to breathe.
I want you to know that I DO not want to become what I might.
That at times I really wish that the devil snatches my life from me before I can become that person.
I want you to remember this Nehal forever.
Not the one I may or may not grow up to be.
I want you to remember me as the girl who cries too much,
Who cares too much, who fears too much.
Who has cried with you, and who is crying for you now.
Who has happily made food when you couldn’t,
Even though she hates cooking.
Who corrects you when you pronounce something wrong,
Not to insult you, or to appear superior,
But to make sure nobody else can make you feel that way.
Who has shouted at you when she is oh-so-angry,
But has come, apologized and always hugged you later.
I want you to remember me as the selfless, selfish girl,
As the person who never really treated you like a mom,
But like her closest friend.
I want you to remember me as someone
Who cannot hide anything from you,
Who tells you too much,
Who finds it hard to lie to you.
I want you remember me as the person,
Who did you work, grunting with anger,
But did it nonetheless.
I want you to remember me as someone,
Who always knows when you are sad,
When you are trying to look happy,
And hates it when you do it.
Because you are not you when you act that way.
YOU ARE A FIGHTER, A TRUE WARRIOR.
YOU HAVE FACED MORE THAN ANY PERSON I KNOW,
SEEN LOVED ONES DIE,
SEEN LOVED ONES ON HOSPITAL BEDS,
WITH NO PROMISE OF GETTING UP FROM THEM.
I KNOW YOU AS SOMEONE WHO CARES TOO MUCH
IT MIGHT BE YOUR FATAL FLAW YOU KNOW-
CARING AND LOVING TOO MUCH.
YOU HAVE FACED SERIOUS MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES,
AND YOU ARE STILL TRYING TO LIVE WITH ALL THAT SHIT
YOU HAVE FACED PEOPLE’S HURTING COMMENTS,
AND ON TOP OF ALL THAT,
IS IT NOT IRONIC THAT YOU HAVE TAUGHT ME
TO NOT TO FEEL TOO MUCH!?
I shout to the world right now,
I shout to the skies and the winds and the trees,
And to every single thing that hears me, and I scream:
MAA, YOU ARE THE STRONGEST PERSON THAT EVER WALKED THE EARTH.
YOU ARE A TRUE HERO, A TRUE WARRIOR.
YOU HAVE FACED SO MUCH, AND STILL HAVE FOUND REASONS TO NOT GIVE UP.
YOU DO NOT DESERVE THE LIFE YOU HAVE GOT.
YOU DO NOT DESERVE A DAUGHTER LIKE ME!
But then again, I do not want anyone else to be your daughter,
For I know it for sure,
I know it deep down at the very bottom of my heart,
That no matter what I have been to you,
No matter what I haven’t been to you,
No matter how horrible I think I am,
I know that nobody alive can possibly love you as much I do.
I love you mummy!
I love you so much.
And it is my love that speaks,
That if I ever, ever, EVER change,
That there was a 14 year old who loved you when you did not love yourself.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mumma. Happy Mother’s Day to all the wonderful mothers out there, forever bringing sunshine into the lives of their children ❤️.