I’m sorry. I’m sorry for teaching you to raise your voice against the wrong, that I didn’t realize this world is still too weak for the truth. And they’ll shut you down if you don’t shut up, so hold your tongue my darling, and swallow the unjust pill of bitter and suffocating silence. I’m so sorry that I didn’t teach you about your position in this world, that I taught you to fight not surrender, struggle not succumb. I am sorry that I taught you to say no, no to sex that you don’t want, no to the relationship you don’t wish for, no to the help you don’t need. I’m so sorry that I taught you to deal with the witches on your own and not wait for the prince charming. Because apparently, he’s too angry, so you better keep looking over your shoulder when you walk down the streets, don’t go out alone you’ll be an easy prey, the acid comes for just 100rs so beware my love.
I’m sorry, sorry that I raised you up to be a strong independent and self-efficient woman. These little men find it too hard to accept that now they cannot own you like before. So they’ll attack you to teach you what your mother didn’t, They’ll rape you in the bus, or jungle or just anywhere, they’ll hit you and burn you, they’ll sell you and torture. And when you cry out. They’ll laugh at you because they can, as loud and openly as they want, but you can’t.
I am sorry that I acquainted you with a world that is far beyond the four walls of the kitchen. Sorry that I didn’t make you get used to the stings of the onion juice in your eye and the smoke of the stove, or the way the oil jumps up the pan and burn your skin. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you that your Confidence can be mistaken for being bold and your choices can lead to you retribution. This world is too shallow for your depths, I’m so sorry that you feel like you don’t belong to anywhere, but you do. You belong to me and my heart. And I hope it’s enough.
I’m sorry, I taught you that your feet are meant to help you run and Chase your dreams. Because they are not, their function apparently is still limited to spreading. I’m sorry that I made you believe that you can fly without wings, using your cape. You are no superwoman. The world can still only see red over your head, not around your neck and shoulder. I’m sorry that I taught you about souls and inner beauty, I’m sorry that I taught you to be good and kind and honest and loving because apparently when you are so, You are always just flirting. And towards the end of the day, it’s only the length of your clothes that describes you. I raised you up to be a good human and not a slave woman, and I’m sorry for that.
I’m so sorry that I brought you in this world. I had prayed to have you and now I only cry for you and the world that I have exposed you to. I’m so sorry that I didn’t kill you in the womb because no fire of hell can burn me like the tears that fall down your disillusioned eyes do. I’m sorry that I made you strong because it only made breaking more fun for them. Sorry…
A guilty mother.