Amma

Amma stands at the door waiting to look me in the eye.

To see if I am drunk or my breathe smells of fear.

I stare a glance, for stealing is pleading guilty.

I wonder what she would think if she knew I drink attimes.

 

Not a boozard kinds,but to gulp whatever misery I have written on my palm during the day .

Amma thinks I am yet not old enough to drink.

Old enough to vote,old enough to donate blood,

Old enough to catch the collar of a man who raised his voice on a child at the streets

But not old enough to taste the ectasy that brings life to mayhem.

 

I wonder if she would love me less if I go against her wishes and drown my soul in it.

She says alcohol ruins people,

It burns families,

It kills relationships

I want to ask her if we would ever remain immortal if we didn't drink.

 

Her logic is an illusion here but my own belief is a reason for quarrel

She believes all of these thoughts wander my head because I don't visit the temple.

Because I don't pray to the god's,

Because I don't sing Kaushalya suprabhatam

Because I don't fast.

 

Because I curse the priests for being assholes,

Because I see the world with vision and not just eyes

Because I don't agree to her definition of god.

I wonder if she would believe if I say,she is my god

 

For she knows first if I am hungry.

For she knows if I need love on a broken day.

For she sits by my bedside and bandages my wounds after a fight.

For she kisses me goodnight on a lonely day.

 

I tell her always.

Yenna devar yenna manasd,aau devasthanod onjI kall matrra.

She believes I mock god,

Knowing little I see her everyday as amma and worship her well being as much as I wish for mine..

If only she knew, alcohol brings this version of me reverend in faith.

She would hate alcohol less and love it more like she does to me.