SIMRAN

My mother wasn't actually the one who named her.

It was our father who bestowed the name
Simran
Upon her.
Myself, I liked it, thought it sounded
Kind of pretty
But my mother said it sounded
Too much like simean,
Which means apelike.
Ruined it for everyone.
Of course Simran didn't care, she didn't
Really know what her name was.
Didn't know much of anything, she was
Just like a baby.
There's a difference between a baby
And an ape.
We got used to her growing up.
Once you're older the angst starts to wear away,
And you're left thinking for only her benefit,
Which is really the way it should be.
But there's a bit of guilty
Frustration, because she's really
Very difficult to care for.
We knew we'd have to institutionalize her,
Because she was becoming too much
To handle, and on top of it all
There were medical problems that kept
Popping up like weeds.
In my heart of hearts I knew she'd
Die young.
I can dream that one day I'll have a child,
And I'll name him or her Simran.
Somehow I can see,
In that eloquent slang of the next generation,
The ungrateful child asking
Why'd you name me after a retard?
And then I'd have to change the name,
Because no one should say that word so
Derogatorily.
I'd have to punish them, tell them that my late sister
Simran
(Somewhat hypocritically) was someone I held
In the highest regard, and
(Completely sincerely) loved very much.