Mother’s Day

– for Mukthar Mai/Bachual Haton/ Yours and Mine.
– A Mothers’ Day poem.


“I told her to fight. Someone has to be the first drop of rain
.’
“Adika Adika, ammiyum navarum/Pound! Pound! Even the grinding stone shall be moved.

Beyond the fence
Beyond the ocean
Beyond the sea of men, our fathers, brothers, husbands, uncles, even sons…
Beyond the governments
Beyond the seven continents

Seek Justice.
If it is not found in the hands of a man
It shall surely be found in the hands of a God.

I told her to fight. Someone has to be the first drop of rain.’
Adika, Adika, ammiyum navarum/ Pound! Pound! Even the grinding stone shall be moved.

In memory of mothers, blue hydrangeas, and Hallmark cards are not enough
Clustered on its’ pretty flowerhead that panacea for all our troubles in Asia
and the Middle East, even here in the US, is it only one day we call her ‘mother’?
Has money, that devil, the root of which is evil, robbed you of common sense?
shed you of conscience?

I told her to fight. Someone has to be the first drop of rain.’
“Adika, Adika, ammiyum navaru
m/ Pound! Pound! Even the grinding stone shall be moved.
Mother, that proper noun for Mukthar Mai’s mother, yours and mine
Like rice, Like bread, like rice, like bread, like rice, like bread
The first of all the words said in your mouth and mine

I told her to fight. Someone has to be the first drop of rain.’
“Adika, Adika, ammiyum navarum/
Pound! Pound! Even the grinding stone shall be moved.
May it fall on the head of the President of Pakistan
May it fall on the heads of nations
May it fall on the head of every man born of a mother
May it fall on the heads of nations
May it fall on the head of every man born of a mother
May it fall on the heads of nations
May it fall on the head of every man born of a mother

Seek Justice
If it is not found in the hands of a man
It shall surely be found in the hands of a God

“I told her to fight. Someone has to be the first drop of rain.’
Adika, Adika, ammiyum navarum/ Pound! Pound! Even the grinding stone shall be moved.

Beyond the fence
Beyond the ocean
Beyond the sea of men, our fathers, brothers, husbands, uncles, even sons…
Beyond the governments
Beyond the seven continents

Listen.

I told her to fight. Someone has to be the first drop of rain.’
“Adika, Adika, ammiyum navarum/ Pound! Pound! Even the grinding stone shall be moved.
Is there now a man among you who is literate?
©2007 Anushka Anastasia Solomon is a Malaysian-Tamil writer and poet in exile. Her chapbook, ‘Please, God, Don’t Let Me Write Like A Woman’, is scheduled for release in the Fall of 2007.
Acknowledgement: This poem was first published in MalaysiaKini, on 05/14/07 . MalaysiaKini is Malaysia’s only independent internet press run by Steven Gan and other independent thinking journalists to give all Malaysians a voice, and in these times, especially valuable, the voice given to minorities and women. In Gan’s words:

“There is freedom of speech in Malaysia, but not freedom after speech.”

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