I am that girl hit by deja vu a lot more times than you. I am that girl living my life all over again in slow motion
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
'Drinking away to glory'....she says...
They drink coz they like to drink.Period.
They work hard the whole week long so mugs of beer bring them respite.
New year celebrations are incomplete without booze…
Who am I to turn judgmental and brand them as drunkards?
Nah…they don’t become bad men only coz they splurge away on liquor…
Am I going to drill sense into them and say its detrimental to health….no way….nor am I going to walk the clichéd path & remind them that it cud have been money well spent had they bought anything except drinks…
Alcoholics Anonymous Associations thrive along the city borders, so there are people who do realize…
Bouts of drinks….animalistic tendencies…sobriety replaced by obscenity….foul language…beating up wives….picking up fights…well, they say it only happens to the so called uneducated masses that drink the country made cheap liquor….
If drinking does add class & finesse then I am all for it….but what about the rash driving, the accidents, the deaths….another example of a classy act? Yeah…yeah…nearly everyone drinks and nothing’s ever happened to them…all these unpleasant things happen to the Others….atleast , I can hope that people do take care and restrain after a bout or two….but who cares to listen to the waves confined to the pages of a blog.
Sunday, December 25, 2005
'Derby ride'.....She whispered...
Daddy…I shud have listened to u & come back home for the vacations….all my friends have gone home….like a ghost I haunt the barren hostel corridors…never thought I wud feel so miserable on 25 dec & miss eating cakes …31st december is going to be another lonely day, deserted by friends, cooped up in a pigeon hole….flashes of childhood memories keeping alive the bonfire to make me stay warm …marooned in a cold city…
Was reminded of those derby rides that u took me to….in my winter holidays...it brings a smile on my face when I remember how tightly I used to clutch ur hand , scared that I might get lost in the fair and never see u again….
Round and round in dizzying circles….sitting on an adorable horse and holding on to a pretty golden rod for dear life , swirling in undulating waves…eyes scanning you amidst the milling crowds as my head spun in a tizzy…. .and flashing that toothy smile at you everytime the derby ride brought u in my field of view…I was so much in awe of the silent presence that stood there patiently while I have my share of fun on those fun rides….ummm….life’s been a derby ride too….u’ve stood back and given me enough liberty to make my own choices, get atop and have my share of fun in these derby rides….but at the end of the day, u’ve always wanted to have me running back to u…..
What if daddy, this one time…I don’t want to leave my choice , what if I don’t want to part ways with this horse that I have grown to love…
For I don’t want this derby ride to end….even if u tempt me with offers of other derby rides with better options...will you be disappointed in me for already making up my mind that I don’t want to have a go at a derby ride on 19 Jan?
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Some more facts about me...She said...
11)Being kissed on the forehead ….thats the most endearing expression of love…
12)Luv the star splashed nite sky….can spend hours laying on my back on the terrace, gazing at the shimmering dots sprinkled lavishly across the thick blanket of the midnight blue sky. My imagination runs wild on such star gazing nights and beautiful thoughts run through my mind….millions of beautiful snapshots….fragments of poetry that form in my mind….wish I cud replace the backdrop of the terrace with a gorgeous beach
13) Since childhood, I’ve had this crazy thing abt writing looong letters to God, telling him all about my life….and when I feel stronger, I tear those letters and leave behind no traces of the secret correspondence between us….
14)Its worth watching daddy dear’s disgusted facial expression whenever I pick up Fluff in my arms and give her a kiss on her wet nose….she is absolutely irresistible when she wakes up from a nap…all groggy eyed…a cute yawning mouth…a butter-won’t-melt-in-your-mouth kinda look on her adorable face….
15) There was a time when I wanted to become a jet-setting travel writer. I’ve always fantasized about exploring the exotic places, tasting their cuisine and as a travel writer,I wudnt even have had to pay for it!Like a carefree bubble...i cud have drifted from one end of the sky to another,from shore to shore,jungle to jungle.
But such a nomadic existence cudnt have brought me any stability in my already chaotic life…
16) Plan to quit the religion I was born with….have never felt at home being a Hindu…never understood idol worship, never realized why a Brahmin considers himself better than a Dalit, I’v always loathed the fuc**ing caste system, never understood why ‘we’ have so many festivals throughout the year, never connected with the ‘richness’ of ‘our’ religion,never understood why we need pandits to solemnize marriage ceremonies or why in case of important events we need to communicate with God via these people who are blessed to be born in a privileged caste.
17) I’ve always wanted to apologize to my parents for not being able to match up to them. Dad is a brilliant mathematician and if mom’s family hadn’t held her back, Today, she cud have been a top notch CEO ruling the corporate world, what with her sharp analytical mind & amazing leadership skills. While I’v always been lousy in maths & yeah have none of mom’s smashing talents. They say the next generation catches up fast & moves 3 steps ahead….i underwent regression….forget, leaping 3 steps ahead, I’ve not even been able to catch up with ‘em. Sorry mom, sorry dad.
18) Would love to have a pair of mischievous twins of my own…someday. I’v always been the obedient,toeing-the-line-everytime-mama-said-anything kinda girls, never bunked college to watch movies,never cheated in exams in skool,never lied to anyone,never disobeyed,rarely ever kept any secrets from my folks……For a change,I wud love to have real brats of my own and experience a more rough childhood…mine was too perfect…
19)Want to leave behind footfprints on the hearts of those whose paths crossed mine…I want people to remember me even after my last performance….long after I have bowed out of the stage….Reminds me of an old song which goes-‘The grass is green & the rose is red, remember me till I am dead…dead…dead…”
20)There are those who have always wanted to see what I look like….after having read my write ups…it’s been like that since my school days, since the time I’ve written anonymously on various forums…..is it that important? Does it matter if I have a perfectly sculpted oval face?
I fail to fathom why people love it more if it’s a pretty face that writes…what if I am one such face, pretty to look at ….or what if I am not….nah, beauty is ephemeral…..fleeting….skin deep…not worth running after it....
Friday, November 18, 2005
'20 random facts about Me'...She said
1)I am my Daddy's girl….here's blowing u a kiss daddy!
2)If I were to live my life again, I wud choose to be an albatross -spread my wings and fly over the ocean. It's the only one in the Kingdom of Animals that mates for life. Invests in a romantic 7 years of courtship and settles down with its mate. Their love is for keeps. They are not used to the concept of multiple partners. Incase, an albatross dies….its mate doesn't survive long.
3)I've always wished for a friend like Barney, the stead fast friend of Laura in Doctors (Eric Segal). Like a rock of Gibraltor, he stood by her…thru thick and thin. Wonder if men can really be such good friends .…ever….Can they?
4)A movie I can watch over & over again->Vanilla Sky, itz my fav & close to my heart.
Maybe coz David(Tom) is unable to win his true love….that strikes a chord with me or maybe it is the way, guilt haunts him all his life for the shabby way he treated the other girl in his life, Julie(Cameron Diaz) who was truly in love with him.
But the best part of the movie…is the last 15 mins when the dreams end and reality takes over, when the surreal abrupts bursts into ur face and u step out of the twilight zone.... once the psychologist played by Kurt Russell starts analyzing David…there are metaphors sprinkled all over...in the movie…itz a thinking man’s movie…it makes u brood…it makes u think & it makes ur heart ache for David when he realizes that the moments spent with Sophia were all an illusion…..that she was never his and yet in the end when she says ‘ You were missed’….it makes u wonder, did she harbour any feelings for him, after all?.But the line that I remember most is where the other girl realizes he’s in luv with someone else and says something to the effect of ‘we’ll meet in our next lifetime, as cats’….
5)I love the sea…I hate the mountains. The way the sea tosses its mighty head arrogantly, rushes into the inviting arms of the beaches and retreats reluctantly to the call of the mermaids that want it back home. I love the way the sea makes love to the beaches, those rumbling sounds of love making when the sea caresses the beaches, fondling it with a mischievous glint in its eye…..
In contrast, the mountains frown at me, rooted at a spot for centuries...with secrets embedded in its bowels and give me an intimidating look everytime my folks drag me to the mountains!!
6)Someday I plan to settle down in the City of dreams….it's not going to be before 2009 but then Mumbai can wait till then.
7)Once there, I would get a chance to fulfill my promise of doing that little bit for Tata Memorial Cancer Institute every now and then. It's going to be pay back time….
8)I can die for Chocolate cakes…umm,there was a time when I was crazy about it….dunno if I am still that way…but then, back then, I was mad about a lot of things…
9)Lines that I would love to hear someday….’Grow old with me, the best is yet to be’…
10)There are those who were distressed when they heard I want to quit blogging….so I decided to stay back…
PS- damn these class tests! 10 more facts to go…wait till the next post.
Saturday, November 12, 2005
The child within me peeps out....
And wonders if quitting writing forever would bring any respite....or is it a coward's way out? an escapist's swan song?
Friday, November 11, 2005
The Stiletto girl...
I slipped my feet into those pretty stilettos, bathed in blushing lilac…..they had been gathering cobwebs for long. I dusted away the musty webs...dusted away a lot of memories.
Tied the lavender strings emerging from the rear end of the stilettos in a fashionable criss cross…they caressesed and climbed up to a quarter of my legs….slender legs(?). My feet nestled itself in the familiar curves of the stiletto, with the shapely toes and fingers painted a chocolatey maroon , plunging neck down while the arrogant ankle maintained its composure at a dignified height…elevated by the haughty heels.
I took off my anklets….stilettos and anklets have never gelled well together.
Tugged at the strings of my wrap around skirt, held against my waist….and let it fall….too long! That ebony and ivory shaded wrap around skirt which lapped my ankles mischievously…managed to ruin the beauty of my stilettos by hiding the criss crossing lavender roman strings that clung to my legs rather shamelessly.
Picked up a delicate smoky grey skirt, trespassed by mauve colored dainty fleurs…the skirt stopped short at my knees….a field day for my stilettos….without any modesty, the stilettos flaunted themselves…..oozed dollops of sensuality….a feeling that was quite contagious…
With an extra inch adding itself to my 5’4’’ frame, I gained an elegant doe like delicate and sophisticated walk…it felt sexy….it felt innocently refreshing…it reminded me of my childhood days when we stole mom’s stilettos and walked clumsily with our tiny feet swimming in the oversized high heels.
As we grew older, the hankering for stilettos persisted and the prettiest of the lot- who else but my sister, would step into mom’s exotically beautiful midnight blue stilettos, two sizes too big for her and sashay down the gallery in our house and feel regal !
A few days back, I saw a girl with beautiful big eyes, housed in a perfectly oval face… walking down the stairs….she wasn’t able to keep pace…..stilettos look alluring but not much fun to walk around too long….lucky for her, her guy picked her up in his arms lovingly and carried her downstairs. Dunno why is it but guys pamper their girls a lot when they wear stilettos…trust me!
Ah! But I didn’t wear stilettos to lasso men or seduce them….i wore them a last time and then gave them away…..
Who wants to keep reminders that beckon you to take a trip in the past…only the criss cross pattern of the Roman strings remained etched deep on my legs after I’d got rid of the stilettos…..hungrily, the strings had dug into the soft, smooth olive skin and left behind love bites….
But then , neither do love bites remain on one’s skin forever….
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Suicide...She wrote...
A girl came up & asked me the way to the Botany Dept,i barely looked at her & mumbled out the instructions...probably she was feeling hungry too...asked me if she could sit down next to me & have her food sitting next to me. I shrugged...she sat down gratefully.
We sat side by side...like two mannequins...no conversation...nothing...i was feeling too hungry to talk & she felt awkward eating her tiffin after i refused her offer.
Finally, i asked her what brought her to my campus....An AIIMS post graduate in Biochemistry...she wanted a Ph.D...fast,real fast...i don't remember when the conversation turned to the topic of suicide but i got to hear so many real life accounts from her, that i've lost count....she had been staying in the AIIMS hostel along with young aspiring doctors since her graduation & post grad days at AIIMS.
Sordid tales....suicide notes written by brilliant students...end of a life...candles that blew out prematurely…
The one that chilled me to the bones, was that of a post grad student from AIIMS who went on to National Institute of Immunology, for his Ph.D He had been her friend but had been depressed for quite some time coz his girl had left him for someone else.
Half my mind was elsewhere- delving deep into the dark alleys of my recuperating heart where tiny scrolls of secrets lay embedded like treasure chests on an ocean bed. But the girl sitting next to me said something that jerked me out of my stupor. In sharp contrast to my earlier listless, barely interested demeanor-I turned my full attention to her...oh my god! She hadn’t realized she had switched tracks from a third person narrative to a first person narrative....earlier, she had been saying...’he shudn’t have taken such a drastic step and ended his life by consuming that lethal chemical from his laboratory to ‘ Life can get frustrating but I should resist such a temptation’....a slip of a tongue ...but the raw feeling was written all over her carefully chosen words and I felt a shiver run down my spine as i realized i was face to face with a potential target who was trying to come to terms with her decision of taking the drastic step.
Her next words confirmed my suspicion, she said ‘ if he could have met someone at that crucial juncture, who could have talked him out of it...maybe he would have been alive today’..
She’s asking for help...no, she is begging me to talk her out of her suicidal tendencies...she’s picked up a random stranger like me to counsel and help her out...i’ve got to soothe her...wait, i’ve got to stay calm myself coz my heart is hammering real hard and my hands are shaking a bit coz i know what it feels like when u feel suicidal....‘
Hey’, i say to her and ...i cough a bit...to mask the nervous tone, steady myself and broach the topic of my childhood, transport her to those sunny days of my life that were full of laughter and naive innocence....i encourage her to open up...gently...coax her to uncoil her complex self ....i congratulate myself secretly....she took a bite of the bait i dangled in front of her...and now she’s hooked! I exposed a slice of my childhood, to enable her to speak about hers & thankfully the plan worked.
I cajole her...to go on, to speak up ...i keep my restless nature under wraps and turn into a good listener...we talk for hours…i pretend I don’t know what is going on in her mind, she has a satisfied look on her face, content that she has fooled me…lulled me into a false illusion….i let her play along…but under that thin veneer ….my mind is working furiously, against time….trying to think of the right things to say to avoid aggravating her…I can almost picturize her standing at the edge of a cliff, while the waves surge beneath….and i desperately want to pull her back
A beautiful sensation…the free fall down such a great height….almost flying…the sea gulls can join in too….the waves hungrily look up…waiting to devour the body….
The mellow afternoon hours sheds her glaringly canary yellow off-shoulder dress and dons a sensual dusky evening gown, somewhere nearby, my batchmates are attending their lectures ….a seat remains unfilled in that class coz I am sitting outside, trying to save a soul that’s sent me an S.O.S …Not everyday, do u get a chance to save a life…..we talk about a lot of things....they lie locked within me...maybe someday i shall write about it...
I see a change in her eyes, a steely resolution….
I watch her standing near the cliff edge…contemplating….the waves part and pebbles stare back at her…she turns her back towards death and walks away…
Monday, October 17, 2005
Clutching to a piece of my childhood...
Fake emotions...fake smiles...fake tears...fake people all around me...
I Feel like throwing up...i feel nauseated...i feel sick to my gut...somehow my system hasn't learnt to digest the fakeness that abounds in this world.
Why do i see everyone wearing a mask?happy masks...charming masks...sexy masks...vulnerable masks...guileless masks...seductive masks..
I feel i am caught in an endless evening party where the dress code is wearing masks of one's own choice...& the catch is- the evening never ends.
The party goes on & on....
Champagne flows...false talk keeps pace with it..i feel lost....suddenly it's time for the waltz.Men in masks approach women in masks....and beg for a dance.i refuse them...men with masks make clumsy dance partners, i remind myself.
Someone smiles at me...a deep dimpled smile...why am i attracted to him?Ah! a naked face...just like mine.A face sans a mask...
My hearts warms upto to him....he wraps his hand around my waist, pulls me close...too close(?)...fingers entwine...music fills up the Ball room....i tell him i dont trust people who hide behind masks...he looks deep into my eyes questioningly...nah! i assure him that i trust him....he isn't wearing a mask...an enigmatic smile crosses his lips....i feel lucky....i pity the women with masked dance partners...i tell him i loathe hypocrites...he says he loathes them too...i tell him i hate charmers, those glib talkers who talk smoothly but whose words stand hollow...smoothly he twirls me, i catch my breath when i realize he's bent halfway,staring at my face,dipping me over his arm... i am bent with my head thrown back...my back arched flexibly...i wait for his answer...but the lascivious music picks up & i get engrossed matching his step with mine...caught in swirling skirts & stiletto footsteps.He begged me to have faith on him...i did...i closed my eyes,put my head on his shoulder & danced...a content smile sitting pretty on those bow shaped lips.I didn't have to feel insecure anymore...
I dont remember how long i had been dancing with him...was it two years? was it a little more...pale beams of sunlight caressed his face & for the first time i noticed cracks on his face...on his honesty(?)...i watched in horror at the peeling mask....the enormity of the falsehood hit me not in a single blow but bit by bit...inch by inch...i was being killed slowly, softly...
Another masked man? my heart gasped...but dont masks hide everything except the eyes?and i had his every feature etched on my mind...his cleft chin...his square jaw...his nose...
Oh my god!My stomach churned...my body turned stone cold...i had been dancing with a masked man all along...with trembling fingers, i ripped the mask off his face...it was a face sans any eyes, sans any mouth, sans any nose...it was a face devoid of emotions,devoid of love, devoid of honesty....just like those millions of masked men who traded in flesh...not love.Who understand a French Kiss but not feelings.
A waltz of hypocrasy rather than a waltz of love....a waltz of fakeness?
It tears at my heart...the sham...the falsehood...i feel lonely...do i stand out like a sore thumb with my naked face in a sea of masks?
It reminds me of my childhood when i used to clutch my doll & hug it close...to seek comfort...if people used to let me down...or if i did something naughty...that doll went with me everywhere i travelled.
Wish i had that doll with me now....so that i could clutch that piece of chilhood close to my heart, that stretch of dream run of a lifetime that every adult looks back wistfully, that unmarred,unspoilt childhood...and close my eyes....and feel comforted...feel healed...
Friday, October 14, 2005
'A dash of Sindoor'...She said..
Celebrations are finally over…Dashami(tenth day) saw the immersion of Durga into the Ganges.
Transported back to a normal life…last week was spent romancing the Bengali culture that probably runs deeper in my veins than I had ever imagined.
Sound of conch shells emanating from neighbourhood houses….pandal hopping with friends….marvelling at the skill of men who built pandals to house Durga…each pandal was a work of art…..there was a spectacular pandal shaped like a huge rocket, towering like a Goliath, I went in & the angelic beauty of the idols made me regret for not having brought along a camera …long queues snaked through the streets in front of restaurants & the city was again a witness to the fact that Bengalis love eating……nearly all the apartments were decked up like Christmas trees, decorated beautifully with fairy lights, multihued tube lights…the city that dozes off by ten in the night, seemed to come alive as the clock announced midnight for those magical few days of Saptami(seventh day), Ashtami(eight day),Navami(ninth) & Dashami…couples walked hand in hand, the only few days when girls are officially allowed to stay out of home till late in the night…..if the nights were full of lights, traveling from one part of the city to the next on a quest to spot the best pandals…..the days were spent paying a visit to relatives, hanging out with cousins, discussing about the ‘new’ man in a certain pretty cousin’s life….eagerly running off to the pandals to catch the ceremonies being performed in front of Durga,eating at the community halls where the ‘Bhog’ was distributed to all the neighbours, it was more of a socializing that takes place between nieghbours at this time of the year where they hob-nob & catch up with each others lives.
One of the landmark celebrations on the last day ……watching married women play the Sindoor Khela- smearing sindoor on each others forehead, while the young unmarried girls smiled coyly when the married women applied a dash on sindoor on their cheeks & told them not to wipe it off…an auspicious sign that it would fetch them a good husband in the future.
I stood in a corner, touching the sindoor smear on my cheek….a damp wistful feeling settled itself comfortably in my heart…..someone somewhere walked across the shores of the Arabian Sea, oblivious of the dash of sindoor across a certain honey coloured oval face….
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
'The city I call Home'....She said..
Back to where I was supposed to have taken those first baby steps….back to that city which has witnessed all those tumultuous years of my growing up days…back to being driven from the Howrah bridge to a place called home…
Was is another lifetime when coming back home made my heart beat faster? Where has that child like exuberance evaporated? Those hand pulled rickshaws, those trams that moved slowly at its own pace while luxury cars whizzed by…why do they no more conjure up any old world charm for me? My eyes drifted from the angel atop the Victoria Memorial & the horse driven carriages full of tourists…to the billboard featuring a petal shaped sensually full lips on a glowing dusky skin that had the texture of velvet , a demure yet subtle wild smile playfully lighting the face that looked ravagable , her vermillion red round bindi smeared on her forehead gave her the typical Bengali touch….draped in a simple white saree with red border offset by an opulent rich maroon blouse with slightly puffed sleeves…reminiscent of the bygone dress code of the bahus of the Bengali Zamindar clans…Her oval face complemented her slantish doe eyed big eyes…kohl lined eyes….drownable eyes…but then, Bengali women have been notorious for these very eyes that have trapped many an unsuspecting man…vaguely, past memories stirred…grandma’s stories…of men from far away lands who fell in love with Bengali women after setting eyes on them, women so elusive that they slipped out of the fingers of their suitors & played the ‘hard-to-get’ game to the hilt …Bengali women who were known for the Black magic spell that they wove on men, …men who swore they’d never touched skin softer than a Bengali woman, like the wings of a butterfly.…skin that glowed with raw sensuality…
I touched my skin & realized that the Delhi sun had done irreparable damage to my once flawless glowing skin passed on from generations like a legacy….reminded me of the first time He’d touched my face on the pretext of getting rid of a mosquito coz He’d never seen such skin…and now what remained was a skin devoid of a good diet…but did it matter any more?
My eyes riveted to the fish mongers sitting by the sides of the road, while men in white dhotis noisily bargained. The taste of prawns dipped in coconut cream …hilsa in a rich tomato curry….fried pomfret….tiny fishes as surprise finds in dal…kaleidoscopic images floated in my mind.
Multitude of sweet shops stood silently punctuating the humid city like exclamation marks at regular intervals….childhood memories of me clutching dad’s hand & walking to the nearest sweetshop & buying my favourite sandesh mixed with jaggery, shaped like a sea shell & rajbhog dripping in a syrup. Spongy rosogollas that told sweet tales of its own…
Avoided looking at the strikingly palatial building where He used to work, the fountain at the entrance of His workplace wasn’t working, a metaphor for his love that had dried out ….but somehow the treacherous tears sprang up unexpectedly while I traveled on the familiar roads….ghost bike rode parallel to dad’s car & I looked in disbelief at myself sitting behind Him on his Pulsar….Misty eyes clouded by saline waters was watching the past unfurl…like an old movie being replayed…
I turned away my face & concentrated on the bamboo sticks & tents being put up in street corners as pandals for the impending Durga Puja…tube lights & bulbs of different shapes & sizes were being arranged in amazingly beautiful ways…some resembled the silhouette of Saurav Ganguli, the most loved ‘son’ of Calcutta…some resembled the Titanic…some resembled Charlie Chaplin & suddenly I caught a glimpse of a girl clad in a mermaid skirt teamed with a peasant top & a guy in a Red kurta teamed with jeans walking on the pavement, she hit him playfully with her thick book & He snatched it away…she stopped walking & stamped her feet like a spoilt kid & demanded the book being returned, her lips pouting alluringly ….wait, this scene felt familiar…was it bcoz they were dressed in an uncanny same way as Us…or was it the way ….a closer look at the guy made my heart skip a beat, in desperation I looked at the new girl & felt I was looking at a mirror…realization dawned….i was hallucinating.
Quickly blinked back the traitors & realized that I shoudn’t have come back to a city that didnot spare a minute in taunting me with His presence…
And for heaven’s sake, He’d quit this city long back….then why did I see Him standing under the 13 No. Tank landmark patiently near his bike….why did I see Him walk out of that plush shopping mall….why did I see Him step out of the Inox movie hall…why did I see Him step into the Oxford Bookstore…
I was not prepared for such an onslaught…..never realized He would ruin my own city for me, the city that I am so fond of inspite of the highhandedness of the Left govt , trade unions, Marxism & incessant strikes. The city that opened up its bounty of a treasure chest full of rich literature & famous writers ….the city that made me fall in love with books that became a part of my existence…the city whose culture ingrained itself in me.... the city that acknowledged the writer in me…and yet ….
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Feeling chewy....
Dear fluff,
I am finally coming home…yeah you heard me right, on the 1st of October, have already packed my bags…but promise me you won’t knock me off my feet & cover my full face with your wet licks…buddy, that’s not how you behave with a lady! Remember?
Of course, I’ll always be that ten year old girl who brought you home as a pup from a different town. And don’t you sulk for my past refusals to come home for the past nine months ….coz I am going to compensate such a long absence by staying home for 15 long days.
Mmmm…those good ol’ days when u’d run off with our shoes, and sis & me in hot pursuit would run after you from room to room….till we’d locate a pair of emerald beads shining with a mischievous phosphorescent glint, under the darkness of a bed & before we’d be able to catch you…u’d dash off under a coffee table….i still marvel at the way u’d dodge us so expertly.
Wonder what was it with u & branded shoes(so, we had a pet who was a snob! Unbranded shoes never managed to elicit any reaction)….while the branded ones always got a ‘warm welcome’ from u….coz by the time sis managed to tempt you out of your hiding place with a promise of a biscuit(yeah! branded biscuits again, especially those laced with lots of choco chips) & I scooped down on you with a war cry of ‘Gotcha’…u’d nearly slip out of my clutches but for your tail. Somehow I’d drag the well chewed soggy shoe out of those devilish canine teeth of yours & not to mention mom, who’d have a fit when she’d see a saliva dripping & a wee bit ‘dog eared’ shoe…
Ummm…this might sound a bit strange but looks like your chewy habit has been passed off to me as well…maybe coz I am in a mellow mood (playful mood ?).
Feeling kinda chewy…a bit wild…a bit feral…a bit seductive…a bit naughty…
Saturday, September 24, 2005
I am Nominated for Blog awards!!
Holy cow ! I have been nominated for the blog awards & I didn’t even care to check out !!!
i nearly fell off my chair when I saw myself as a nominee in the BEST IMAGE POST few mins back.
Slogan-"Keeping in touch....is it so hard?"
My Code 55 IMA
It so happened, that my friend Shilpa persuaded me to have a go at this unique Blogging awards. Unfortunately, they rejected 5 of the 6 entries that I’d sent them. The only one taken up for consideration was the entry for the Best Pic & this sole survivor seems to have nosed it’s way to the selected coterie!….i was disheartened by the elimination even before it could have competed with the rest,the entries which I sent for The Best Fictional Post & Best Personal Post etc etc were categories that I wanted to participate in.
I hadn’t read the rules properly,which said-the participant was supposed to send blog entries that were written from 1st july 2004 to 30 june 2005.
A new kid on the block…er,blog….i made a foray in the blog world on 20 june 2005 …so that gave me a mere 10 days worth of work to showcase & to my horror, I realized…except putting up pics I’d hardly done much.
Needless to say, this came up as a pleasant surprise…
Friday, September 23, 2005
'Hunger'....She said...
“Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies- a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed."(Eishenhower,the 34th US Prez)
Dust swirled & pirouetted in a mad frenzy…..I coughed it out .Blinding heat…on a September noon in Delhi. The auto threaded in & out of the narrow lanes as deftly as a needle completing a running stitch along the hem of a cloth. Ensconced in the womb of the auto, I was sitting …lost in thought…the view outside a blurred haze.
So deep was my reverie that it took me a while before i realized someone was talking to me... .i turned my anesthetized eyes to the auto driver but his back was towards me & then i saw a wobbly hand extend itself in.
Ummm...it was a red light crossing & i wasn’t sure how long the auto had been standing still & then it struck me-Beggars!
I looked straight ahead of me, averting my gaze.....the way most of us pretend to turn blind whenever such miserable unfortunate people approach us with an empty hand but a heart full of hope.But wait a minute, this man had something in his hand-incense sticks...but i simply shook my head.
Brought up in a family which has never believed in Idol Worship, incense sticks were never used in our household...i explained to him-No idols in my room...no incense sticks required.
The more insistent he grew, the more adamant my refusal became.
At the crossing, the light probably turned envious & switched from red to green....at that instant he blurted out-‘Please buy it, i haven’t eaten for two days’....i looked into a pair of hunger ridden eyes & could almost feel my hunger hit me with a vengeance like a punch delivered by a wrestler on his punching bag.
Maybe, his words wouldn’t have had such an effect on me, had he met me ...say, a year back.
A year back, i didnt know what hunger was, i didn’t know how difficult it is to sleep the night away on an empty stomach....i didn’t know that the only way to stop the burning sensation in the stomach, is to keep drinking water every twenty minutes & stop it from growling...from groaning in protest...i didn’t know that your insides churn in agonizing pain & make you want to throw up when you haven’t eaten for one & a half day….your head spins,u feel dizzy & it becomes difficult to walk….maybe it sounds like an exaggeration…maybe my system over-reacts when I miss all my four square meals at the hostel coz of tremendous workload in the Lab & somehow I never have the money to buy something from a canteen etc.
Maybe I am so used to being a spoilt kid back home where food was always taken for granted by me that remaining hungry for a whole day is not my forte.
But I am learning….picking up the art of fooling my hungry stomach by drinking water.
How on Earth,did this old man manage to stand on his two feet & sell his ware the whole day long?had I been in his place…I would have collapsed coz I become so weak that I can barely walk, my knees turn to water & my hands shake a wee bit.
It was the last twenty rupee I had in my purse apart from the thirty that I was supposed to pay the auto driver,luckily I had coins that added up to another ten...it meant, I would have to walk a long distance at eight thirty in the night…a scary proposition…& then take a metro ride(luckily it cost ten) after a rigorous class.
I saw myself handing over the money to him & regretted that I didn’t have more to give to him….& I wished I hadn’t been so egoistic & walked out of office of the part time job as a ghost writer without any payment. Imagine! who would refuse to take her first payment ever, after having worked hard on assignments. But that’s me…
I could see drivers screaming at us, we were blocking their way…stuck at the crossing…pampering some woebegone old man selling something trivial.
But did they know how hungry he was? Hunger…that kills u slowly by inches…hunger that makes us impotent…hunger that gnaws at our insides…hunger that constantly draws attention to its presence inside us with it’s devious pin prick stabs….hunger that makes even thin arrowroot biscuits taste as heavenly as chocolate pastries….hunger that makes u look askance at people eating good food….hunger that makes you want to march into the eating joint with those delectable names that make ur mouth water….hunger that makes treacherous noises in ur stomach & gives your game away when you lie to ur friend & say you are not hungry….hunger that turns u weak & makes u want to compromise on ur principles & borrow money from others & somehow u battle with ur morals & stick to an empty stomach than an empty conscience....
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
'Go away..& don't distract me further'...She said...
"Go away"...She whispered hoarsely...
Please don't haunt me anymore...
Can bear the torment no more...
Make this anaemic bleed no more...
Saturday, September 10, 2005
'A new beginning'...She said...
Where the azure sky ends and where the electric blue sea starts, I do not know.
All I know is- it is a new beginning…a new dawn…the story of the raging currents instead of the vagrant waves…more powerful, more unforgiving…
The story of Metaphysical Insanity which translated itself into a Once in a Lifetime story of two torn souls.
Same old players but new terrain, same passions but new twists thrown by Life ,it’s the same she & the same he but new feelings & new vengeance.
The storyteller is waiting to breathe life into the tales that were kept locked in two hearts but are the readers ready?
Sunday, September 04, 2005
'Fluff & I say Goodbye to all'...
I have decided to spread my wings and fly to a different shore.This blog shall cease to exist,it shall disappear from the face of this Earth...
There will be those who will not want to travel with me,to the new destiny so it is a Goodbye to them & again,....there will be those who can relate to me,who have become a part of the extended family that I have and it is them whom I graciously invite to embark on a new adventure with me coz the September air has stirred the gypsy blood in me & it is time for me to go the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife....
This is meant for those who shall ride the wave with me & who do not mind getting swept off their feet to a distant land where hope flourishes,inspite of all odds.
Contact me at seven_seas8@rediffmail.com such that I can email my new blog address personally to all of u & yes,do not…I repeat…do not forget to mention ur blog url along with ur blogger name,that I am familiar with. Gaurav,vidhi,stranger & vish need not reply back coz they’ve already asked me to inform them of the change
And hurry coz after a few days, nomadicwaves.blogspot.com will be untraceable…devoured by the mighty waves while I shall re-emerge from the swirling depths of a turbulent ocean…..that’s a promise.
Friday, September 02, 2005
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
'Doors of communication'...She said...
Apparently it is an illusion...these gateways that entice me to walk through them to the other side , coz they are closed-the Only means of communication between Him & me.
A grave misunderstanding between us, that pushed Him into His shell.
Wish He would open these doors & write again.....
Sunday, August 28, 2005
Thursday, August 25, 2005
'Freedom'...She said...
Would it sound weird if I say I drew inspiration from the toe that thrust itself out of the misty grey torn socks & proudly proclaimed its freedom from the shackles that subjugated the other fingers & kept them in captivity..... that it fired in me a burning feeling of breaking away from the self imposed restrictions that had turned me into a caged animal pacing up and down, trapped within the claustrophobic four walls.
That now, I don’t wait for Him to visit me in this city, that I buy Blood red corduroy jeans & don’t bother anymore what He thinks( and no, the color isn’t as scandalous as it sounds, it’s quite a pretty shade of maroon).
That I’ve got rid of the colors blue & white from my Life and introduced new colors that define the New me. That I am no more exclusive coz I’ve razed down the wall that made me appear an Ice maiden, that made me appear unattainable. That I don’t bother to carve out neat triangles out of my Mushroom topped Pizza with a fork & a knife coz I don’t want to please anyone anymore. That I am thinking of taking a new phone number to add new acquaintances & delete old ones. That I no longer call up those who expect I shall always be the first one to call & make up for old fights.
That I want to shed my old skin for a new one, like the snakes do but will someone tell me if old memories can be traded for new ones too?Or do snakes still live with their old memories even if they don a new suit...
Monday, August 22, 2005
'Blood is thicker than water'...She said..
Dear Sis,
It's been a month since you left home & settled in a new city. It's hard to imagine my kid sister living on her own, away from her doting parents & a sister who never got tired of mollycoddling her. Maybe it's our fault that we have always treated you like a fragile porcelain doll & sheltered you from every difficulty. Like a delicate piece of crystal ware nestled protectively in cotton wool-we’ve handled you with the utmost care.And now, unprepared we let you stray into a ruthless world that is not known to have a soft corner for delicate darlings.
It must have been a nasty shock to you when your professor scolded you , for baby, you are not used to being spoken harshly to.
Shielded by us, from the rotten eggs that abound in this world & now standing all alone ,unless you learn to live by your wits you'll be devoured by the ravenous wolves-I feel scared, helpless....stranded in a different city. Damn these STD calls,I can't even wipe away those hot tears when you narrate how the senior boys from the boys hostel harass you,make your life unbearable by threatening you with dire consequences when you refuse to become their girl while fever rages through your body coz you are not used to bathing in cold water & your legs are about to give way coz u’ve never stood for 6 long hours & worked in a laboratory.
And It tore my heart when I heard you burnt your hands in that workshop of yours & bruised it as well while beating the metals into shape & were unable to pick up a pen to jot down notes, the next day in class.
It's hard to believe our little one who would have the whole family fuss over her due to a minor cut & be taken out for an ice-cream-has no one to tend to her bruises.
And baby,do you know,how furious I was when I heard the boys in your batch made fun of the bolts that you created after four hours of sweat & hardwork and how lonely you felt being the only girl in that batch.
Mom could hardly recognize you when you came home for the weekend-dark circles,insect bites all over your face,thin as a reed but you made light of the situation and said-‘Atleast, I’ll not have suitors troubling me again’.
I am amazed at your indomitable spirit which remains unfazed by the incessant power cuts in your hostel, irritating roommates who keep you awake all night with their lovey dovey talks to their boyfriends over the phone & the way you ignore the leering looks of the boys & quietly swallow the indignities in the name of ragging.
Engineering colleges were always infamous for their ragging excesses but what horrified me the most,is the way 'strange' women with scarlet lipstick & rouge standing prominently on their cheeks are ushered into the boys hostel in the nights, not to mention the innumerable parlours overflowing with pornographic flicks that flourish near the campus. And professors who are equally notorious.
Sometimes I wonder where is our generation headed....
But did I tell you sis, you've made us proud-the way you deal with the tricky situations that life throws up, with a grace & dignity that is surprising at a tender age of seventeen.
Yeah,yeah,I know you'll be rolling your eyes when I say you are at a tender age.And yeah, according to you-I am too old at twenty two!
And did I tell you,I was bowled over...the way you manage finances & imagine! there was a time when you thought demand drafts were meant to be purchased from banks for Rs 100.
I know you are miserable staying in a campus cut off from the pulsating city, & instead there are the druglords & their band of thugs who thrive & where girls getting kidnapped are a common affair and yet you pretend to be comfortably settled coz you don't want dad to worry about you, you don’t want to add to his already tension filled life.
And I listen helplessly to your carefully manipulated joyous voice as you tell me about the amazing placements, the top notch companies like Wipro,TCS,Oracle that visit your campus every year & how you are ready to compromise on the comforts of life to stand on your two feet and ease off dad’s financial burden.
Kiddo,did I ever tell you that you are One brave woman....
And don't you feel blue dear,not just mom,dad & me...but even Fluff is there right behind you in times like these.
Remember,it's only one's family that remains stead fast by one's side when one runs into a rough patch. While the fake boyfriends are happy doing the disappearing act, & reappear when all is fine & the coast clear. Is it coz blood is thicker than water?
Anyway, fluff refused the juicy bone mom offered her,know why?
PS-Mom misses both of us,but she misses you more- for you are the baby of the family & shall always remain one & yes, fluff misses you too.
Take care
Your sis.
Saturday, August 13, 2005
"Camouflage"...She said...
Grass offers anonymity to a grasshopper, a stem of a plant offers anonymity to a stick insect, a snow covered landscape offers anonymity to a polar bear, an unknown city offers anonymity to travelers, a graffiti covered wall offers anonymity to strangers who love to leave behind scribbled words & the blog offered me anonymity, where i could let the words flow out of my head uninhibited ,unrestrained... I could write unhindered, without being singled out , without getting to hear personal remarks from people who meet me every single day , without people questioning me why i write the way i do.The blog was my ‘Little Big Secret’ ; it was my hideout zone where i could transform into a mermaid at my whim & fancy ; play hide & seek with words; make new friends; dabble in old memories; get drenched in non existing rains & let my imagination run riot.But recently, i discovered I’ve been spotted by known faces, I’ve been hunted & preyed upon by meddlesome people.And just when i thought my secret was safe with me, just when i thought i mingled with the background so well that no one would mark me out ...i heard my blog bleed. Too late, someone in my hostel had managed to penetrate & violate the virginity of my blog & left it unclothed ,naked, vulnerable to the attacks by others. Once you taste flesh, you are bound to come back for a kill again & so it continues- the nocturnal visits by a particular salivating female in my hostel, who goes ‘in & out’ of the pages of my blog regularly. I caught her red handed few days back, under the cover of night, around 12.30 pm sitting all alone in the computer room while the rest of the hostel rocked to the music being churned out by a DJ. I froze in my track when i saw her raping my blog, her lecherous gaze wandered over every bit of my blog & I could feel my blog cringe, scream out silently,looking around helplessly for help,begging for a piece of cloth to cover itself up.I confronted that drooling female & she looked at me & said ‘You never expected anyone to be so sharp,so as to find your blog,isn’t it?’ I could feel my temper flaring up & had this sudden urge to slap her tight that would have wiped the smirk off her face but i kept calm & allowed my body language to convey to her that i wanted her to back out of my blog immediately. Later,it all came flashing by-why she used to peer at my computer (always) while i worked on something as innocuous as Microsoft Word & not to mention her dirty habit of walking into the computer room & slyly reading into the emails being typed by girls,with their backs to her & finally, armed with a treasure of personal details about different girls,she would call for a round table conference, after dinner & along with some like minded friends dissect every bit of itsy bitsy detail & tear their personal lives into shreds. Cowards like her, who sneak into comp rooms at midnights to read into the lives of others,can be expected to remain spineless all their lives. And the voyeur in her would never stop carrying a ladder to reach someone’s bedroom & peep in.Am i furious because she encroached upon & trespassed into my world or do i pity her for being gutless?One thing is for sure,I no longer have an iota of respect left for her. Her uninvited entry or should i say intrusion, caused me a miscarriage, my write ups curled up in a foetal sleep, dreaming of leaving behind the amniotic fluid & the dark interiors for a gulpful of oxygen on a blogpost , bled to death.The excitement that ran through me when I’d experienced the first kick from the foetus growing fast, feeding voraciously on the rich fodder of imagination & words that I provided it with…..and itz hurried termination before it could even venture out into the Blogosphere has left me feeling numb. And what to say of the Abortion I underwent to get rid of the unborn ideas before they get devoured by people not meant to read them. My wings have been clipped & I can never soar high on this blog but waves have never been known to be static & so, I shall travel to another spot where I can bask in anonymity, camouflaged against a backdrop that would let me remain half hidden & not stick out of a webpage like a fluorescent bookmark sticking out of a book. |
Saturday, August 06, 2005
"Bewitched"...She said...
What would I not give, to have my legs bewitched into a shapely fish tail, complete with dainty fins & scales that shine iridescent under a moon that dares to gleam in silver & gold.
What would I not give, To join a school of Sting Rays & explore the sea bed scattered with life forms blowing kisses at me with their friendly tentacles....
To discover long lost treasures of pirates long dead.....
To ride the disobedient waves on sunny days & allow a teasing look to the rugged sailors, who would nod their heads in disbelief & blame it on Rum !
To let the turbulent waves toss me roughly like a rag doll from one crest to the next, on a stormy night & allow the old man sitting in the Lighthouse tower to wipe his glasses with a hankerchief, to snatch a closer look at a feminine figure with a tail !
To let the Seahorses delight me with the way that it is the males that get impregnated by their females & carry the eggs in their brood pouch,while the females swim free!
To let the jelly fish feel important when I acknowledge its presence with a “ Hi! How do you do?” & not see through its transparent body onto the other side as most do & make it feel like a ghost....
To let the ink squid play a trick on me & uplift its spirit by allowing it to squirt ink on me....
To let the whales whisper gruesome tales of human brutality where their hides are crafted into designer purses & premium prices quoted for blubber.
To let a snoozing oyster that snores with half parted lips turn me inquisitive & make me peep in, to catch a glimmer of a pearl in the making.
To let the multihued sea anemones,the subdued cuttlefishes,the blushing red lobsters make me envy them for the vibrancy of colors that remain intact,unwashed,undiluted by stubborn waters trying hard to rob them of their beauty unlike the bronze red lipstick on my lips that get washed away everytime by the rains or moisture from a searing encounter……..
To let the vagabond-ish waves fulfill my dreams of visiting sea kissed Spain ....
To let the sea shells abandoned by itz molluscan masters remind me that nothing lasts forever, that people move on in Life & leave behind things which had once been close to their heart....
To let a star fish sitting pretty on a sandy shore & pointing at five different directions with its radiating arms, make me burst out in spasms of laughter for confusing a lost baby Octopus asking for directions...
To let the regal birds of the sea-the Albatross , renew my faith in love by watching them court each other for seven long years & finally mate & remain faithful to each other till death do them part....
To let the cliffs jutting arrogantly into the horizon teach me patience, teach me the art of how to stand by its word even if the waves slap it hard at every high tide...
To let the high & low tides remind me that Life is a heady mix of ups & downs....
To let the scurrying crabs that rush into their holes on the beach,upon an intruder’s visit-warn me that home is where security is....
To unearth the remains of a ship & stumble upon scrolls imprinted with dead mens’ secrets that would keep me engrossed, immersed for Aeons so that no Pneumonic memories come haunting back & no crazed urges to listen to the weather forecasts of Mumbai………
What would i not give, to be transformed into a mermaid & let the waves wash away mildew covered memories,to be buried silently& forever in the generous lap of the sea bed that already holds secrets of Titanic magnitude....
Monday, August 01, 2005
"While Changing my clothes"...She said
Somewhere in Delhi,somewhere in a cubicle the tap quenched a bucket’s thirst whose throat turned bone dry while her clothes fell in an unprotesting heap in a corner.
She unclasped her hair & the shower sucked in its breath when Her raven coloured tresses tumbled sensually down her delicate shoulders,free at last, from the French Knot held tight by a clip.
The first mug full of water spread hungrily all over Her….leaving no curve unexplored.Drops of water reluctantly slid down her shapely nape, caressing every inch of Her….as they went down.
Lot of stirrings in the bucket,as each drop of water rougly pushing the other out of the way & climbing onto the shoulder of the next to catch a glimpse of Her. The emptied mug bent down & whispered naughtily into the eager ears of the next scoopful of lucky drops while the rest impatiently waited for their turn.The lather of Her favourite soap that smelt of crushed roses was blessed to stay long enough on her body to peep & have a look at those flaming Lips before the jealous water droplets could rip the clinging soapy lather & wash it off Her.
Images flashed in her mind…Him getting caught in the heavy downpour of Mumbai…His car breaking down …His tedious walk for hours in chest high waters….His taking refuge in an abandoned auto parked right in front of a stench filled public loo…His helplessness at watching two dead bodies float by….His conscience pricking him hard when His female colleagues called Him, requested Him to pick them up from their stranded spots & drop them home….His feeling of desperation of being trapped like a marooned sailor on a desolate island,encompassed by water & lashing rains that slapped Him hard on His face for having forgotten Her. And so,before He could stop Himself,His fingers had already dialled those familiar numbers.
Her voice, poured into His ears, traveled through his bloodstream and turned into liquid fire that sent His temperature soaring.Was it His imagination or had she acted like Brandy to Him,coz He was shivering in His soaked clothes no more.Was it madness or an animal urge that He wanted to ravish Her,then & there?
Carefully masking His raging thoughts behind sentences that Airtel connection broke into pieces & relayed to Her & before she could ask anything,His fone went dead in a city washed away by the demonic rains.
And now,while She bathed….She wondered…She turned on the shower with full force to drown the conflicting thoughts that tormented her soul.On one hand,she knew she’d promised herself no more calls to Him & yet His new number stood out enticingly on her Call List.On the other hand,She had to know….oh damn it!She knew only too well-how His body gave in to fever everytime the Kolkata rains played havoc & the Mumbai rains were no different.
While the jets of water from the shower lapped & licked Her to their hearts' content, She tried to decide.
Next it was the Lavender towel’s turn to cling to Her while her mind strayed on undecided moors.
And it was while changing Her clothes did Her impulsive nature take over & She swore to make just one last call to Him.
And it was while changing Her clothes, that She got to know from His friend that He had Pneumonia.
The crumpled towel on the floor lay laughing, happy that His rival was in a hospital.....
Thursday, July 28, 2005
"Life comes a Full Circle"...She said
Boarding schools, midnight feasts, stealing bull’s eye peppermints from tuck boxes of sworn enemies, pyjama parties,Halloween treats, bullying juniors, making friends smuggle love letters to those ‘cute’ boys ,using mirrors to communicate with the boys staying in the Boys’ Hostel across the valley, perched on the opposite mountain, filling up slam books,exchanging photographs,packing the trunks, boarding the train & finally off…to an Adult world waiting to be discovered. And that is when you realize your wings have been clipped even before you could spread them & take off on your maiden flight. You realize you have to get married to someone, handpicked by your family & before you know it…you are a domesticated hen taking care of your brood. All those sonnet cramming days & Shakespear’s Othello filled evenings seem to get lost in a new rhythm of changing diapers. Skills picked up in making neat section cuts of roots & stems in Botany classes are made use of , in cutting vegetables. All your prize books become the scribbling grounds of the little ones. All the medals you won in relay races, javelin throws seem to turn into rattles overnight. All your merit certificates won through sheer hardwork become breeding grounds for spiders & mites. All your ambitions of a career get swamped by wifely duties that leave u breathless. Days melt into months & months into years & finally it is time for your little ones to fly the nest. After years of keeping them snugly close to your heart, it tears you apart when you let go & yet when they call up & narrate their days in the hostel- smuggling goodies from the Mess & into their rooms, playing pranks on April Fools’ Day, camping on the hostel grounds on winter nights……. Déjà vu…. Its like Life is making you rewind a black & white classic movie in which you are cast & you watch it in slow motion. There you are-Tip toeing across the dormitory & trying to climb the wrought iron gate of the Hostel on a moonless night, to make it for a long drive along with Him but alas! Your cell phone starts ringing & that’s the end of your escapade for a night…..but Wait,yours was not an Era of cell phones & the realization transports u back to your kitchen, where you are listening to your little one relate how she got caught by the guard. You smile at Life for trying hard to return back your youthful days that it had robbed you of. Life seems to come a full circle for you, coz u let your little ones fly with unclipped wings into the azure sky….unhindered, uninhibited …they soar high above the rest, in pursuit of your unfulfilled dreams that still wait for you to catch on. It’s like a merry go round ride you got into –long back…and it got stuck halfway up the way to the sky & took years for you to complete the ride. PS- This one is for you , mom..... |
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Dont....She said...
Dont flash that fleetingly treacherous Love of yours-that offers me dreams broken in two,promises fragrant of falsehood,Lies in abundance & where keeping in touch is made a colourful mockery of.....
Monday, July 25, 2005
"Of Ghostly rains & an abandoned umbrella"...She said...
Of passions lost & passions remembered…… Of Monsoons & ripples of longing that ache to unleash a surging desire.......Of rainy days & wet kisses…..Of thigh high waters clogging lanes & a single purple umbrella being shared by two…..Of traffic being thrown out of gear & closeness under the umbrella…..Of male frogs with virile croaks attracting mates & two hearts on fire, shielded from the world by a pretty umbrella that’s bathed in the colour of passion…..Of street urchins splashing murky water on passers-by & a subtle hungry exchange of glances under the umbrella…..Of paper boats floating by & a raging Lust leaking from the open sky, drop by drop…..Of semi-dry clothes getting soaked on clothes lines on terraces & testosterone running high…..Of rickshawpullers pedaling towards shaded structures & Her clothes clinging to every curve…..Of fathers carrying sons on their shoulders & a blush spreading under an umbrella which is purple…..Of open street vendors running helter skelter with their wares & a proximity that increases inch by inch,second by second…..Of mothers rushing their daughters indoors & two souls trying to prolong their stay outdoors….Of plump rain drops sliding down the glazed windows & the umbrella making its way to a secluded haven…..Of the sky wiped clean of the noisy birds that flew into their nests & rains freezing in mid air ; time pausing ; pin drop of silence, for a minute-as the grip on the umbrella is lost…..Of the wet soil fragrance hanging heavy in the air & burning lips….. Of a July rainshower,an abandoned purple umbrella & bruised lips…. Of ghostly rains & painful memories…. |