The Right Amount of Self Love.

I had a daughter           
Who used to paint
When she was five.
Her lines were skewered
Mangoes looked like dandelions, 
Apples looked like horses, 
And shoes looked like trees. 
Believe me, you wouldn't like to hear
Of her tryst with drawing human figures. 
Broken hands, broken legs, 
Mashed faces. 
She then was too young to capture 
Broken hearts
Broken minds. 
I used to look at her 
Shrinking her nose
At every line she drew
Till I couldn't stop myself from saying,
"Hey, this is as wonderful as you. "
This developed. Into a cauldron of words
That took forms like the newt, 
" You are a great artist, Darling! "
She grew up walking on the skewed lines 
She drew. 
Her apples still looked shriveled, 
Were eaten by worms.
Yet, she had learnt to embrace them. 
Her Mangoes weren't juicy, 
Her bananas were a bit too black, 
But she knew that even though 
They were useless to her, 
Those red eyed, winged flies
Would make it their staple food. 
The apples love themselves. 
The bananas no longer ask for 
Fairness creams. 
The Mangoes still hold the promise of life. 
She? 
Has had an inflated ego. 
Many a times. 
She has lost the exhibitions, 
More than once. 
Yet, 
Amazingly, she has plucked
Roses from branches
In autumn, when 
They had refused to bloom. 
Really, 
At the end of the day. 
She astounds you. 
At nights that are
Neutral,
Digging around 
Tight Trenches, 
Always. 
She has learnt that self love
Needs deduction
And 
Dedication.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR :- 

       

  Sayantan is an active queer expressionist studying Biological Sciences in Presidency University. He is the editor-in-chief of ExPress Magazine, and also writes various columns for various other reputed magazines and blogs.