“My Mother’s Tears” – Jidnya Sujata ft Baksheesh Singh | Spoken Word | Spill Poetry

“My Mother’s Tears” – Jidnya Sujata ft Baksheesh Singh | Spoken Word | Spill Poetry


The third law of motion states that for every
action, there’s an equal and opposite reaction. So for every night that it rains, my mother’s
eyes see an increased amount of tears around them. Her crying leads to a clogged nose. To soothe her nose, she wakes me up early
in the morning and asks me get some ginger from the market. I whine, but I eventually give in. Now considering that I’m already awake now,
I decide to give her company while she drinks her medicinal tea. The hot cup of tea makes me want go sit in
the balcony and enjoy the monsoon. But the sound of the raindrops remind my mother
of the night she spent crying, lonely, screaming in her pillow,
It takes her back to her wedding night, she tells me I’m a rape-child. My entire existence suddenly feels like a
sin, I apologise for not being a good daughter, She tells me I’m the best thing she got out
of that marriage, I think about my father. A face flashes in front of my eyes, I see
a criminal. She tells me her body was an active crime
scene, Her ‘mangal-sutra’, an accessory to the crime. She tells me, she sold it to pay for my education,
I am able to read and write now. So I write poems about her struggles every
good thing she deserves, she tells me my poems make her proud. She tells me I give her a voice, she tells
me she’s happy that atleast someone is writing about it. We spend the morning talking about pending
criminal cases, she is preparing for her law exam. She wants justice for everyone, she is a victim,
she’s a fighter. She narrates a poem she wrote when she was
young as she picks up the books. She starts solving her papers, I fall asleep
again. The third law of motion states that for every
action, there’s an equal and opposite reaction. She spends the entire day studying, sleeps
really tired through the night. I spend the entire day voiceless, I think
about her pain through the night. The next morning, she wakes up without a nightmare
and I wake up without a father.

23 thoughts on ““My Mother’s Tears” – Jidnya Sujata ft Baksheesh Singh | Spoken Word | Spill Poetry”

  1. Its a tremendous effort to accomplish something about your existence that is painful yet you are the outcome of the pain,which is why i believe injustice make the way to justice…

  2. Very nice poetry indeed😎👌♥️
    Plz read mine as well👇
    मैं बस थोड़ा सा लिखना चाहता हूं…
    मुझे वाह-वाही चाहिए थोड़ी सी…
    कोई मंज़र दहलता देखकर,
    जो रोक ना पाऊं खुद को तो,
    उसे लिखने,
    मुझे स्याही चाहिए थोड़ी सी..
    तुम्हे मैं बता दूं..
    एक दरिंदा था..
    सबकी जानकारी में था..
    ऊपर से खुली छूट थी,
    शायद इसीलिए रंगदारी में था..
    और तो और वो रखवाले कानून के,
    वो तो जानते थे उसे,
    शक़्ल-ओ-सूरत से पहचानते थे उसे,
    उस मासूम कि जान वो ले गया..
    खुला घूमता सियासी गलियों के बीच वो,
    फिर उस मां की नम आंखें,
    फिर वो रास्ते पर ताकें,
    फिर वो ना भूलने वाला,
    ज़िन्दगी का ग़म वो दे गया…
    हुआ चाहे जो हो,
    पर हमें क्या फ़र्क पड़ता है…
    जब हम अपनों के लिए नहीं लड़ते,
    तो परायों के लिए कौन लड़ता है?
    मैं वक्त हूं,
    बदलने की आदत है मुझे,
    ये आदत तुममें भी डालना चाहता हूं,
    मैं ऐसे दरिंदों को नर्क में पालना चाहता हूं…
    कितनी बार कहूं तुमसे की,
    कोई ग़लत करे ज़िंदगी में तो,
    उसे मनाही चाहिए थोड़ी सी…
    मैं बस थोड़ा सा लिखना चाहता हूं…
    मुझे वाह-वाही चाहिए थोड़ी सी…

  3. I don't know why i am falling in love with poetry day by day , as it is the best way to express..
    Really impressive,,..
    This also inspires me to write..
    Btw it needs guts to speak this effortlessly😍😍😍

  4. Hey #JIDNYA Sujata ….!! Here again u rocked it …!! Was that a real one? Amazing lines what say I was completely flattered with those lines that u wrote and narrated….!! God bless u…!

  5. I am from her school, I was immature and stupid and God knows what not, I proposed her,when the whole class used to call her names she didn't deserve.
    I couldn't raise my voice ever, I was in std 9th with her then,same class benches one or two ahead or back,falling prey to anxiety of my own thinking what the whole class will think when they come to know I like her,so suppressed,so oppressed I used to feel by the conventional thinking of humans,these words are not enough to describe those. I felt everything through the school,made friends,lost them forever but never ever lost finding the answer to tell her,how I feel for her,why I feel for her
    I understand the pain within.
    I was born sensitive,my parents had a bad relationship. I understood everything. Couldn't explain because she rejected me. She was a good person,but she chose different guy that time. I couldn't convince her. But this poetry,is what I knew since I know her. I saw it in her eyes,the words back then.
    She had the pain but was brave even back then to hide them.
    She was the first person I told those words, " I love you",immature but pure. I wish she knew my feelings might not have base,but they had 100% purity in them. I wish I was in touch. I tried many times to know. She ignored. Always. She was a kind person as far as I remember and no one had the right to say anything to her. I wish I helped and not let the man in me die. I cry the tears of shame, I am the one whom I still blame. I could have done something,but I always stood by when I saw her cry.

  6. Preaching over rapes doing it behind the name of marriage ,sad to share this and feel courageous to have people like you .

  7. It gives me a certain degree of comfort knowing i'm not the only mother with dark stories hidden inside my chest, my heart. A brave fighter raises a brave daughter. Thank you for this.

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