Daughters

"A proud bedsheet displaying its stains. 

And I used to look to history for perspective."

In the shadow of a wall built on the heads of eight thousand men, Aditi Rao

Dad, still keep your keys beneath the left bougainvillea?

Quit screaming, this knife is for Brutus outside, not ya. 

I won't stab you, you know me better, I have class. 

Love this garden too much to leave blood on the grass.

Hush, I'm back. Sorry I took so long, baby, 

here, let mommy change your diaper. 

Those screams are from the trunk, baby. 

That's just your grandpa, bummer. 

Don't cry, look at me, heee heee!

Story time, listen up, baby.

Momma's gonna take you on a trip down Memory Lane.

Story begins with grandpa putting mommy in a lotta pain, 

making her stand outside for hours in the pouring rain. 

He said he was ashamed, I threw his name down the drain, 

then he got drunk and beat grandma bloody with a cane. 

Momma said she'd had it, would never see him again, 

but he fucked around way too much with momma's brain. 

All she could do to cope with it was drug every vein, 

until she had you, you made her see, turned her sane. 

She realised she was special, she wasn't a bane, 

she wasn't a whore if there was no goddamn stain. 

Then she decided to fix things, started to abstain, 

got sober, got a house, got a shop on Rajpur Main.

But on some days, calm was impossible to feign,

revenge was the only goal momma needed to attain.

We’ve come this far, baby, our work wasn’t in vain,

now we just gotta throw grandpa in front of that train.

The end, the finish, the fin dot to the plot's chain, 

we'll say cheers and drink, you milk, I champagne.