The Unconditional Love

True love is meant to be unconditional. Isn’t it?

Yes, I am adamant,
But then it’s me only,
Applying on my mom’s resentment,
The soothing ointment.
The resentment I created myself.

I disagree with her,
Feeling proud, thinking I am progressive,
She then clears my vision going blur,
Being aggressive and oppressive.

“Your vacations this week,
You got to learn kneading dough neat.”
“Mumma, I am so busy,
I have got so much academic pressure.
Will learn later, just take it easy.”
“Okay!”

Damn! Why is she so innocent?
Making her a fool is so effortless.
“Come, chop these onions. Show your talent.”
Hmm, not so innocent, smartness in politesse.

Listening to my every piece of crap,
And ending it with a clap.
She then shows me the mirror,
To make me count the errors,
And make me see through even clearer.

Going on shopping with her is a disaster.
Okay, so I need to go with this plan,
The pace should be faster,
But convincing so that it,
Does not go down the pan.

“Mumma, see if it’s a nice crop top.”
“Yeah, but the colour does not suit you.”
Going through the dresses non-stop,
And getting rejected at every drop,
We finally end up with a Lip Gloss Colour Popp,
With shopkeeper whopping curses at us,
For we just created in his shop a huge fuss.

She taunts “Generation gap!”
“Exactly!” I again start my crap.
After an argument for an hour,
We oath not to even murmur,
With each other.

And then at night, I lay cuddled in her arms,
Near her heart so warm.
As if that is the place,
So safe, carrying so much grace,
Away from any despair,
With the unconditional embrace.