Mother’s love

I have never known it. You profess it is discipline that you admire most. And you wave your fist profoundly, “This has kept them in line.” you boast shamelessly.

I resent you. Each time your knuckles  struck my skull, my neck, my back. I resented you. Slowly over time it has fostered only hate within me for you.

Your discpline taught me to resent God. It drew me away from scripture. Becuase it only mattered to you that I said things right. My eye stung with tears and my head buzzed with the impact of your fist. ONCE… TWICE… and then ONCE more… If God could forgive me why did you feel the need to punish?

I tired to stop the tears from rolling down my soft cheeks.  I made an effort to continue reading the words God gifted us with. My speech slurred.

CHETAK!

No more. A voice inside me screamed: You will not be abused with the book of God in your hands. Walk away.

CHETAK!

I walked away. Kissed the holy book and all I remember as I climbed the chair to place it back on the mantel is the impact of your angry fist.