Plastic bra-strap, pert message on tank top
Some gentle ab stretches, violet-ly golden keds
Hope I'm OK soon, in a husky whisper to hunky trainer,
Off, leaving a trail of adrenaline pumping no-brainers
A blast! A cold shower at home,
Hair pampered, dried and brushed
Abs and pecs encased in corset of absolute power,
breast pads on, with spares for the day,
thick dark tee to cover all, yet look sexy
Guzzle water, munch crunchy salad, down Parlodel*
Hope it kicks in, stems the messy leak
Dizzy head, faint, yet tummy so lax,
When will it regain its muscle tone
Amidst the folds of flabby fat?
Buzzz! When are you coming
I'm bored, asks the nth SMS
I'’ll be there in a gif :-)
And sends a carefully shot pic
A final make-sure make-up look
Her hair just so her face perfect
Tummy sucked in, Hell! why does that
Baby wail so?
Clip clop clip ready to be '’viewed
Chauffeur looking respectful and smart
He must be a slick production dude
If even the driver looks a part
O you look better in person, he coos
And umm, your CV does attract
He takes her in like meat on a rack
Just well rounded, no, not fat
She wants to talk of the contract
Her role in the project team
Just lets him come around to that
Gives time to warm to the theme
At times she's so sharp, his nerves
Grate. Yet she has all he needs
And more. The CV was bait
He feels fate is so kind of late
She scored over all the others
Was definitely the best
How to show her to his advantage
Make an offer and test?
A graceful long waltz of a delicate negotiation
Already he is prey to her persuasion
Talking of bonuses, the trips and the tours
Over nibbles of exquisite hors d'oeuvres
Stay on for lunch, the guys are coming
O not this time, gotta be running
Rushing in a fink to the nearest sink
Change of pads and the Tee doesn't stink
Happier quieter in a more peaceful mood
Gets back to pick up her freshly hatched brood
Pillows pillows and now the latch is on
A full feed now, next three hours I'’d be gone.
NOTE: *All ye ladies, this is not me- I let my babies wean themselves.*
5 comments:
Hi Shankari
A grim peep at a not so motherly mother. I think the words "Hell! why does that
Baby wail so?" say it all.
This poem runs like a commentary...:):). Good one.
Hey Anjali,
I wrote this (poem???) a while ago and somehow every woman who read it could immediately identify with it.
I started off, I admit, a bit nastily to potray the type of woman who'd mess with her hormones to suppress her milk production but somehow, somewhere, she got me admiring her. Prolactin is nature's trick for ensuring that every lactating woman physically bonds with the baby and cannot stay away, much like the cow which madly lows for her calf when her udders are engorged.
Some of those who read this felt that she was some kind of super woman who'd be engineer and architect of bridges and such like-very confident and in control.
Me, I don't know
Very thought-provoking - a sober picture of one sort of motherhood, eh?
It made me sad,yet all charged up. It is another facet of the strength of a woman---helped by medicines, maybe, but strong, nevertheless.Hurray for Shakti!
Lak, I'm not talking of the popularity or otherwise of Parlodel, but don't we (who have had babies and had to leave them for whatever period of time) all feel these pulls and have to allocate our time and resources for all these things we have to do?
Medicines are just be the prop one may or may not use.
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