Mother [incomplete]

I was born out of my mother’s tear
Not out of her womb
Born into a waiting ward
Where everyone awaits a train
That will take them back home.

My grandmother watched my mother’s labor pains
And rejoiced!
She was obstinate that I should be born in that very house
Maybe I might have been freed within her womb
But for the intervention of an elder sister of my mother.

I was born in a hospital.

The doctor who brought me into this world too was pregnant.
She gave birth to a daughter a week later.
I know what happened to her.
For I know what happened to me.

I know what happened to my mother.
I know what happened to us.
I know nothing happened.
And yet…

She brought me into this world and meted out what her mother had meted out to her.
We are all abettors of death. Each other’s deaths.
We rejoice at birth knowing that here is one more that has to live in this world.
We rejoice at the tribulations to be faced.
We rejoice at all the desires that will swallow him.
We rejoice –“ Ok, so we are not alone in this misery!!”

What does a child know?
Memory is yet to be installed.

There is always one foolish sperm that gets left behind.
A sperm that is born into an illusory world.
A sperm that believes there is more light in that outside world than inside.
We are all but nothing more than an overgrown sperm who believes that there is a bigger universe out there.

What is naked to the eye is the veil that shrouds the truth.


I was reared in the womb of melancholy.
I reared myself in a world of melancholy.
All that is beautiful in me is my pain.
My pain is my strength.

I accept all the gifts of sorrow with grace and gratitude
For what am I minus my pain?
All my happiness come from it
For I have accepted God as “Sorrow”.

The sorrow from which we all run from
The sorrow we want to avoid at all cost
The sorrow we turn a blind eye to
That sorrow is Him.

For He knows it’s the last thing we will ever want in our lives.

There is no Holy Grail but the tears of one’s own soul.
He who has the courage to drink it is welcome to God’s Kingdom.

The true prayer is the music in your breath
The only word is the silence between one’s heartbeat
You are the mother of your parents
Like you would be the son of your own child.

I was born in the womb of my daughter.
I was born from the sperm of my son.
I was born before my death
I was dead before I was born.

I was born before my birth
Like I was dead before my death
I was alive in my death
Like I was dead when I was alive.

What is a lifetime if not the interval between two breaths?
And if there is a God then we are all immortals.