The simple dreams and all freedom of the docile Indian daughter in law or wife in the conservative families still exist like some distant wish. This poem speaks of the feelings of many such women who dare not break free yet strive for the day they have their own identity.

I am tired to the core!
I fret and I fume,
In despair and gloom.
Irritated many a times,
At humanity’s crimes.

I am tired to the core!
Performing all duties,
As mere dull chores.
Losing fun and excitement,
I am full of resentment.

I am tired to the core!
Working every single day,
And no time left to play.
My frail fingers simply pray,
As I turn wrinkled and grey.

I am tired to the core!
Pleasing all those around,
With a fake smile I found.
Trying to reach the skies,
When I am just at the ground.

I am tired to the core!
From the world I abhor,
And they think I am a bore.
For they see not the pleasure,
Awaiting on life’s other shore.

I am tired to the core!
Trying to find respite,
With my feeble might.
To learn a few lessons,
To make my life bright.

I am tired to the core!
Looking after and serving,
Yet things get so unnerving.
When no one is happy,
And faces all look grumpy.

I am tired to the core!
I yearn the vast sea shore,
To give my aching heart a cure.
Oh! But it appears so obscure,
Living life?I am not so sure.

I am tired to the core!
Journeys yet to be travelled,
Skills left to be acquired,
Reading more to be inspired,
But my ill health has conspired.

I am tired to the core!
Of being so dutifully docile,
As if a remotely run mobile.
Attending to one and all,
Till the health begins to fall.

I am tired to the core!
Of having that voiceless voice,
Which is not ever my choice.
I yearn wings of freedom,
To rule my own kingdom.

I am tired to the core!
Being titled a queen yet subjugated,
Wonder how was I nominated.
A prisoner in my own abode,
On which horse entire family rode.

I am tired to the core!
Of cooking, cleaning,maintaining,
Of birthing,training, educating.
To be set aside one fine day,
When the young grow and I grey.

I am tired to the core!
As I lost all my playmates,
To the household duty takes.
Succumbing to the pressures,
Of those wickedly cast gestures.

I am tired to the core!
Of being frowned upon,
At an inch of each error.
Of being ever condemned,
For faults that lay in others.

I am tired to the core!
Of being a mere shadow shape,
Movable by thy scorn and gape.
Of living life to please you all,
And letting my dignified ego fall.

I am tired to the core!
Of being treated as an object,
Deserving mercy and pity.
I deserved better than this,
I deserve simple pure bliss.