She’s dark, so very dark
Darker than the moonless night
Hidden from unseeing eyes
Veiled in plain sight.
Call me mother, do you?
She roars in deafening laughter.
Well then, let me show you
My impeccable mothering skills.
I couldn’t care less
How you feel about me,
Your life, your path, your woes
And concepts of your long learning.
I give and take as I please
What I take from you
What I give to another
Is entirely my will.
I see through the ravages of time
For I am time.
I see through the confines of space
For I am space.
What I give and take is a gift
That transcends time and space
You may call it suffering
But I call it grace.
Don’t worship me to gain my favor
Don’t invoke me to play favorites
Don’t pray because you fear me
I have the patience for none of it.
The only favor I’ll ever grant
Is to wake you from your dream
Your illusion of bondage
That’s entirely of your own making.
You’re caught in the quagmire
Of your own foolish mind.
And the drama that you love so much
That keeps you from seeing me.
Be prepared, for when you call me
I’ll swiftly end your delusion.
However, dear one, know that
This ending won’t be fun.
You’ll want me to go away
You’ll want to hang on to your pain
You’ll want to withdraw your request
You’ll lose faith again and again.
You had the courage to call me.
What exactly did you expect?
Did you think I could be confined
To your limited idea of a mother?
I don’t fit your molds and boxes
Of mothering or of femininity.
My love has no bounds or rules
It’s unfathomable to the mind.
Come to me naked and raw
So I can devour you whole.
Only then can you know my love
When you and I have become one.
- Kavitha Chinnaiyan, Mother’s Day, 2018