Denied Motherhood Poem by chandra thiagarajan

Denied Motherhood

Rating: 5.0


Lovely Motherhood divine
God for me didn’t design
For totally barren I am
And have not passed the exam.

It was not my mirth
To give child- birth
And am wallowing in self-pity
As I don’t have that capacity.

When I see babes being fed
Blood courses fast in my head
Mother and child’s proximity
Disturb’s my equanimity.

Why am I motherhood denied
Fate has made me to cry and dried
I extremely feel the loss of a child
When the world at me does deride.

When colleagues, of their children talk
My heart jolts and gets a mock
I speak of my siblings’ children, in lieu
And that of my neighbour’s children, I knew.

At such times I desperately pine
But to have a child I have no sign
I see many children playing
But mine there it is missing.

People’s pity, for me, I can’t bear
Their advices for me a child to bear
Their suggestions and proposals are a hundred
Their prescriptions fill me with hatred.

During family functions when people invite
All ladies, the auspicious lamp to light
I take a flight and am sad with my plight
As I am considered inauspicious with spite.

There is not a soul to call me “Mummy”
My heart yearns for it—I feel I am a dummy
O God! At least in my future birth
Please bestow on me a child on this Earth.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Kavya . 23 August 2015

An outstanding write Mam. Every line you have written is true and is observed very much nowadays everywhere. a very touchy poem.

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Abdulrazak Aralimatti 09 August 2015

Many a woman are childless and suffer the grief personally and socially.My youngest sister is childless even after 10 years of marriage and I can understand the poem better.I pray to God for all such women. The feelings of a childless mother are rightly depicted in the poem.

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Roseann Shawiak 08 August 2015

A very poignant poem of the inability to have a child. It is quite a hardship for a woman, especially when others around them are holding and playing with their children. Looking and wishing to have a child of your own, but it never happens. An underlying melancholy and silent tension beneath the words of your poem. Thank you for sharing. RoseAnn

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