Freedom From Martyrdom Poem by Mamta Agarwal
Freedom From Martyrdom
As I carried a glass of hot milk at night,
I believe has Tryptophan, helps sleep tight.
Passed by his door slightly ajar, hand on mouse
Eyes glued to the lap top, pin dropp silence in the house.
I promised myself to confront him next day
And say in an even and firm tone this is no way.
Next morning at nine o clock rang his cell phone.
Checking his mail he muttered please leave me alone.
Hesitantly he took the call, and raised his voice in irritation,
What, a call from centre for de addiction and rehabilitation?
Glared at me, if only looks could kill; you need help you do;
Please do I as I say, I blurted, or else I am sure to leave you.
He didn’t even pause, said allow me to make reservations.
Totally unprepared, was aghast at his curt suggestion.
I kept mum feeling defeated and a lot helpless.
This case is closed, beyond reason and hopeless.
I sought solace in the wisdom of a girl friend.
After hearing my tale, gave me strong coffee blend.
The point is I doubt if he will take any notice
If you make a case for
bigamy and call the police.
With his eyes off you, dear now finally you have freedom.
Make most of it and forget about theatrics and martyrdom.
Let’s weigh the pros and cons; there are some perks
Those come with a married tag, think before dumping the jerk.
Make a life independent of him, travel and follow your dream
Now, you smile, come lets go to the bar for Bailey's Irish cream
Be glad for small mercies: its just a mouse trap.
What if it were a woman fluttering her eye lids on his lap
Why care who sits on his lap and where his hands are,
In mock exasperation we chortled in the lounge bar..
narration of a nice story, mamta, ....full of dramatic moments n movements.... but, i wonder at the concluding portion.....is it honestly feeling of freedom or frustration, dear? ? ? anyway, i enjoyed this n thanks for sharing....
You have used the 'dramatic monologue' very effectively Mamta to make a point in this interesting and very topical poem.....such are the vicissitudes of modern urban life
Be glad for small mercies: its just a mouse trap. What if it were a woman fluttering her eye lids on his lap Why care who sits on his lap and where his hands are, In mock exasperation we chortled in the lounge bar.. You have built up a most possible modern urban life scene in your absorbimg write Mamta...the words in the quoted lines are truely womanly naive...
Reasons can be many for concluding into actions A glance ahead, is much of help for all its reactions We just can't live with actions, they are just iterations. To live a full life, we need a lot of evaluations. Dear poet, this write could be read just in one go Entire scene is just enacted before the readers eyes. Its a different tone from you this time.
interesting incident in an interesting format..keeps the read crispy...well the world invents reasons for divorce..a space and time for everything will keep the frustration off..a good narration mam
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/9/2024 3:42:43 PM # 1.0.0.1119
lolzzzz mamta ji...superb video....cd post it on utube...! ! ! but be blessed and find comfort in the fact that this goes on all over the globe.... iam waiting for my call any time now.... indeed....the waxing and waning of the moon has cycles...all through our ages u r strong....chk out the ice cream....sure delicious... hv a great day cheers & ten