The night was long for me, but you slept. The words still echo in my ears. You talk a lot now! I looked at you with astonishment. A would-be -mother, sabik, I poured my glass of manna. My words fail me when I talk about you. I treasure them, not to part with a single one.
love , Shayani.
Come feed my inhibition, freedom, pain, and surrender. Usher me to breed creation for life, vision, and knowledge
1 comment:
Sayani
It even amazes me as to why I talk so much. A very dear one used to tell me that one talks more to hide apprehensions or maybe fear. Maybe I was trying to do the same. Or maybe I was too happy that I was home at last and wanted to pour out all the pent up words of three long years at the earliest before I missed something. After all, the prodigal daughter returned!
I am sure my garrulousness will dissipate with time. My daughter will take charge then. As far as being a mother, I am still half prepared. I am sure I will not talk of it and will accuse you of lying if you ever bring this up later, but I still don’t feel that I am prepared. Worst part, I cannot think of myself as a housewife or a mother. At times I feel trapped in my own world. Aquarian quest for self identity and independence is somehow stopping me from being a MOTHER. Hope I will be able to balance my life once she is here and be less confused.
Rest, I am still the same Sabik, with the same dreams, same yearnings, same principles same likings but more ambitions.
Love
Sabik
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