Yearning & learning

I yearn for those begotten moments
Vivid as the springfield in the landscape of my memory
The windmill turned and time leaped into what if
If that love had been reciprocated, if that hut had turned into a home
My mind is all but a smeltery

If that drink had been savored longer and the hands that brushed the arm should have been held onto...
the heart does race at these thoughts and lips tremble to be bitten
A pulse quivers for those begotten moments
the ruffle of memory sheets clouds my thoughts
There is a longing , an aching to know once again what it's like to be smitten

a little droplet shines on the wine glass just to be wiped off
for the long road driven on beckons me
a dream floats on my mind of the eyes that gazed at my soul
the gaze that rowed in the nape of my neck and made my heart flutter like a butterfly in a springfield
the breathless me ready to immerse into the vast sea...

Mummyhood

Childhood seemed like distant past and cooing mothers seemed like strange creatures, babies looked cute and adorable but something I would admire from a distance. Requesting a seat in a child free zone of the restaurant or aircraft appeared the most natural thing for me to do. Diapers even the unused one caused a not so pleasant feeling in the pit of my stomach. Discussions of baby food, puke or color poo were most absurd things I came across during monthly reunions. Remembering names of his daughter, her son and getting the genders right was a task- I stuck to, 'hows the baby doing?'.
I congratulated parents on their little bundles of joy without trying to cuddle the bundle.

And then , I became a mother.