Mummy lays the silver coins on a finely draped
counter with reverence, as if each circle imprinted
with Hindu deities and symbols of peace
will invite wealth and wellbeing to those
who believe in Lakshmi and the infinite aum
echoing through the hearts of the devout.
Is Lakshmi the right goddess for us?
Mummy guides my right index finger towards
the scarlet kumkum* powder, as if the signature
I am about to draw on the silver coins
is signed in blood, in repentance
for all shameful years of disrespect
toward a mother who could not understand
my postpartum depression—an ancestral trauma
reborn into the next generation
despite Mummy’s best efforts
to divorce the man responsible for it all.
Next comes the rice, the lighting of the diya
and the prayer she asks me to invoke
on behalf of our family’s welfare.
Little does she know I don’t expect her
to reveal the shame of never growing love herself.
She is parched for a drop, a drizzle, a deluge
of forgiveness that comes easily now,
as I cry for the woman who never learned
to embody the goddess within.
*kumkum – A crimson powder used in Hindu religious ceremonies, to mark marital status, and other auspicious occasions.
