Thursday, April 7, 2016

F is for Freedom

I passed my driving test
in Twickenham
after SEVEN attempts.
FREEDOM! I cried
and kissed the examiner on his cheek
before he could protest.

Ever since then,
I've been imprisoning myself
in parking bays
that keep getting narrower.

I saw you --
the other day.
You didn't look like you any more.

Freedom is what I was after.
You said.
Met him. Found love. Got married. Had kids.
Free to be me--
I thought.
Life on my terms--
I thought.
BUT, fumbling fingers unfasten my bra straps
and cage me in marital bliss--
night after night.


  1. Wow Arti I don't know how I feel about your poem. I can relate to many parts, getting a drivers license equals freedom, and squeezing into seemingly smaller and smaller parking spaces but I'm not a wordsmith and I don't understand the last part. I truly hope all is well with you. You seem like a very good person and deserve happiness.

    Shelly @

    1. All is well with me Shelly:) Couldn't be happier. In fact, I'm in Budapest for a few days- to see my daughter and the hubby has come over for the weekend. It's all good.
      I will put a disclaimer that it's not all about's a result of a discussion some of us were having the other day and how some women feel obliged to oblige, even when they don't want to. Hope this helps. I think I'm like any other person: good and bad;)

    2. Just updated the post with a disclaimer...realized family and friends will be reading too! Thanks for that Shelly:)

    3. Okay I'm happy for you Arti! Enjoy your holiday!

      I was wondering if this poem was about you or not, that's why I didn't want to make any assumptions.

      The A to Z Challenge has me reading so many writers websites and I never know I'm reading truth or fiction. Lol

      Shelly @

  2. True! Voiced very well. I agree with you! Waiting for more blogs! Good luck!

    1. Thank you Manu. You are a strong woman. xx


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