Why should we put up
Why should we put up
Because we’re women
The drunken husband
Who blows up our money
With smoking
With gambling
With drinking
With other women
They beat us up
Our children too
They work sometimes
But give no money
To share the burden
Of running the house
The schooling
The uniform
The books
The lunchtime meal
The government
It looks after
The rice comes
From the government
It’s inedible
We sell it
To whoever will buy
They’re even poorer
Than us
And use that money
And our earnings
To get
The rice
The wheat
The sugar
The sait
The oil
The onion
The potatoes
Bananas sometimes
And if the price is right
Once in a while
Some vegetables
The madams
We work for
Give us
Old Sarees
Used clothes
Toys
And shoes
For our children
They feel good
Doing so
We get by
Old umbrellas
Sweaters
Bedding
They feel good
Giving so
We get by
But that’s not all
Bills to be paid
The electricity
The gas
The cable
The mechanic
To repair the
Old TV
The madam
Had kindly given
Very cheap
Then comes
The wedding
Of a near one
We have to gift
It’s part of the custom
We borrow
Some from our
Kind madams
The balance
Our jewellery
We pawn
Sometimes
To never
Get it back
A funeral
We have to pay
The Poojari
Who prays
For the soul
Of the departed
We need
To
To buy
Stuff
To make
The food
For the people
Who come
To fulfil
Their obligations
We are now
In deep
In debt
Our jewellery
Now gone
The husbands
Now beat us
Because
There isn’t
Enough money
For
Enough food
When sick
We wait hours
At the government hospital
The treatment
It’s free
But there’s
Expense
On travel
And medicines
To be bought
They don’t like it
The madams
When we take leave
It’s twice a month
When someone’s sick
Can’t your husband
Take leave
They ask
If you don’t come?
Who will
Look after us?
You’ve taken advance
We’ve given you
Clothes
Shoes
Bedding
Umbrellas
Sweaters
The TV
A raise
You need to be grateful
If you take leave
Who will look after us?
Who will cook
Who will clean
Who will feed
Our children
Give them a bath?
Who will wash
Our dishes
Sweep
Mop the floor
Wash our clothes
Hang them
Out to dry
Fold them
And leave them
On the bed
To be securely
Kept
In our cupboards
Ourselves
Take away
Our leftovers
We don’t want to waste
God doesn’t like it
It goes on
We have to work
We owe them
We’re honest people
Atleast until
The debts are paid
And then
The bonus!
The bonus is
One months pay
They bring
A new saree
And day
Happy Diwali!
It’s ok
We’ve atleast got
A new saree
When we want
A day’s break
To go
For our kid’s Annual Day
We say somebody’s died
They would understand
If we told them
We want to watch
Our kid’s Annual Day
They would say
Let your husband go
Are they not
His kids?
His kids?
He beats them up
Whenever he’s angry
His gambling
Hasn’t gone well
The other woman
Gone off
With another man
Or the drink
Has gone
Into his head
He’s lost his sense
Of decency
Which probably
Doesn’t exist
Our son
We will not pamper
We will teach him
His wife
Will be his partner
Not under his thumb
As our mother in law
Had taught her son
Our son
Will not raise his hand
Not drink
Or gamble
Or go after
Other women
Not live on
His wives wages
We will give
Him education
The fear of God
The respect of women
Our daughter
She goes to school too
She’ll get a job of her own
Will not marry
As a child
She will study
She will earn
She will choose
Her husband
Our world is bleak
But we live
To see our children
Back from school
To hug them
They’re ours to love
We love them back
How they turn out
Our sons
When they grow
We do not know
Will they turn out
Like the father
No
They won’t
We won’t
Let that happen
To another woman
Our God
Is with us
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