Shiva’s Daughter

By Rhea Banerjee

Slouched against a tree, a job to fulfill,

relieving their sorrow, 

something never left for tomorrow.

I provide a reassuring familiarity

but I’m worn out of my mind,

finding that I don't have enough time 

for a life that is mine.

To my room, to the silence, sunken in the frame.

Comfort inanimate,

words float by, saying I am not to blame.

It’s all for their welfare.

It’s all to ease their pain.

But when will I liberate?

Mind raging, aflame.

These days I find myself completely frazzled,

trying to impress people I cannot dazzle.

Dejected, diminished.

Altruistic sentiment.

But when I need to help myself,

I get their call and into it I delve.

Welching an oath I never swore.

Uncross our pinkies.

Cold, frore.

Like a hognose snake, I wish to play dead.

Carry it all in the silence,

burden lulling me to lie in bed.

Siblings all out of the nest,

making names for all the rest. 

They are in green rooms, marking their tombs.

But this is not my life.

A weight from a fate I did not make

A choice for you,

A choice for you to be desolate.

Works Cited

Purohit, Temple. “Ashoka Sundari - the Untold Story of Daughter of Lord Shiva.” TemplePurohit - Your Spiritual Destination | Bhakti, Shraddha Aur Ashirwad, 10 June 2016, www.templepurohit.com/ashoka-sundari-daughter-lord-shiva/.

By Rhea Banerjee