Poetry at Sangam
Poetry at Sangam showcases poetry in English and translations as well as essays on poetics and news of new releases.
From the cawing of the roosters till midnight
Sweat from my head drips down to my feet.
I don’t tire, I don’t despair, I’m busy in my work.
After all, I am the mistress of this house.
All responsibilities are perhaps mine alone:
Entertaining guests, displaying niceties.
After all, it is my work alone,
Because I am the mistress of this house.
In sickness, in pain, it is my job to care.
To hold the hand, to massage the feet,
To provide food and water.
After all, it is my job to run this house.
If something doesn’t go as planned,
Blame the bride. Simple!
Even if you are bleeding
Ensure that no one else is suffering.
You see something that’s not right,
You are not to say anything.
Even if your words are right,
You’re not to give voice to your words.
And if you do speak out
Be prepared to be caned.
You dare to talk back!
How arrogant you’ve turned!
If you do not speak out
Remain like mute cattle,
Lock your lips and hold your tongue,
Then you are a good woman.
And if you fall ill and are in pain,
Unable to get out of bed,
Look how topsy-turvy the house is!
How can you stay in bed like a queen!
You’re used to being fed, why will you work?
Your father must’ve given you lots of food!
In my house, you won’t cut slack,
Or else I’ll kick you out.
I attend to all your calls
And fulfil all your demands
What will make you realise that
The Mistress is equal to the Master?
Your mother and your sister are both women
If you can give them the respect due to them,
When will you give me mine?
After my death?