Who am I: A poem by Anjana Prasad

I wrangled with alphabets n’ syllables
operated with numbers saddled a school bag
growing with every passing spring
now I. shuffle between the roles of wife and mother, but is it me?

No one can judge or define me 
neither my work nor my profession 
I dig deep within to see if my belongings cars, houses,|
are not me who am I?

Under the stars, I discovered a world inside me
art, science, invention, love toiled together in sync.
I feel the pain, I am hurt by sorrows around me
wrapped in a childlike glee to see fluttering butterflies.

I don’t pluck flower to see if he loves me or not
I am born human with intellect
after crossing through many births dharma says
I am the only doorway to the existence of myself