POEM_: Dialogues with Mother: IV

You do not understand 

Do you?

Y’know,

it’s easy to forgive strangers. 

We expect nothing of them;

if they hurt us, well,

who allowed them inside, in the first place? 

We were at fault too.

It is also easy to forgive one’s friends. 

We can afford to forget them,

if not the hurt. 

And one can always make new friends.

It’s easy to forgive one’s children:

they are, after all,

one’s own flesh and blood;

our vehicles to immortality.

And, of course,

if not easy,

it is still not very difficult

to forgive one’s lovers. 

Whatever we gave,

we gave voluntarily; out of love. 

And what is given away

cannot be asked back.

What about Self?

It is often difficult

to forgive one’s self. 

But this is one person

with whom one has to stay always. 

Those who cannot forgive themselves

often do not live long enough

to tell the world of their pain.

What is most difficult,

is to forgive one’s own parents:

the memories, the thoughts

the humiliation of utter dependence,

Man’s worst fears confirmed-

trust me, they are not

easily banished into the kingdom

of the dead and forgotten. 

Every little hurt, every minor pain

springing from a child’s powerlessness

adds a new fiery drop

into the disconsolate ocean of his discontent;

and finds for him, his very own scapegoat-

in the form of his parents.

I am trying, Mother,

I am trying. 

Just do not make it any tougher, please!

Trying to forgive you.

- owais

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This was published earlier in "Love?"

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