ON MY OWN....

'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.....

And then a confrontation between them...

Some more misunderstandings between Him & Her..

He trampled on my heart & left it bleeding...

PS-Putting up this blogpost yet again...

'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...

'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.

"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.

"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....

"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.....