Sanobar SabahThis summer, my mother spoke a new language with me; soaking methi overnight in a copper tumbler
I watched her apply nariyal and rosemary oil – fursat se
My mother and I are singing a song we were never taught, yet the tunes feel familiar
This summer, I spent more time in the bathroom, gazing into the mirror
Laughing at my C-section, perimenopausal tummy,
I tell my friend, “Maternity section ki jeans buri nahin!”
This summer I said no to jobs that drained my soul
Instead, I chose to spend time with the stray cats in the neighborhood
This summer my dead father visited me repeatedly in my dreams
He never did for the two years since he left me
This summer, I decided to let my kids sleep in if they were too tired for school,
I will bake for them chocolate chip cookies for breakfast, offering more if they liked
This summer, I decided to live my life
So my children don’t feel guilty living theirs
This summer, I learned my husband and I could do our own things,
And still crave those nights together
This is what contended people do and there’s nothing selfish about it
For years, I was a grumpy, bitter woman, waiting for love to shower upon me
This summer, tired of being passive, I took matters into my own hands
Inviting my lovers over for dinner, I sent them handmade cards with pink flowers drawn on them, signing them off with smileys and XOs
I applied ubtan and rice powder for my acne scars;
They seem to be working their magic – my skin shines like a happy baby
Wearing my dilruba attire and red lipstick
I welcomed each lover with open arms and a warm peck on the cheek
My lovers seem worn out; their allure not as charming as before
Even vanilla-scented candles and fresh lilies couldn’t lift the dullness of their aura
Love looked different in my twenties – what the hell was I thinking?!
Maybe they were just as hungry and needy as I always was!
Borrowing a leaf from the youth of today, I kiss my lovers goodbye – one by one, as swiftly as I invited them in
Enough time wasted
Jumping into my PJs, I text my writer friends – likhein?
This summer, I felt tired – but not from the staleness of being
This was good tired,
The kind that comes from partying all night with your tribe
This summer I kissed confidence and let sukoon wrap me in warm hugs,
Being a fuller, more active lover looks good on me
I allowed myself to sleep lightly – without worrying about what wasn’t done today or what still needs to be done tomorrow
This summer, I met myself for the first time in 44 years,
Finally tasting what it means to be a woman in flesh and blood
This summer, spring arrived early
This summer, maine apni zindagi jee lee.
This work was written during the Ochre Sky Memoir writing workshop facilitated by Natasha Badhwar and Raju Tai.
