Chores or burden of idealism
Imposed within closed doors?
The cry of babies or the noise
Of wanna-be boys and men
That weighed her down?
Why is she hesitant when
Someone asks her name?
Who was she before she
Could be a mom or gran?
The magical mystery, who
Reeks of round rotis and
Balance of a perfect sambar.
Something loud-mouthed
Consumed the syllables of
Her last name.
Found only in her school
Certificate maybe.
But the paths to her school
Is erased-
Childhood defaced and
The backstory of how she was
Before she turned a Misses is
Fed to the Wolves.
What remains now is an
Ageless face. Her wageless
Labour and hints of onions
In her expression..
Which doesn't go beyond
A couple of sulphated tears
In the kitchen.