Games rains play....

Half lit room, a broken mirror...
flashes of lighting chasing growling clouds...

Intoxicating smell of wet earth & perfume from her body...
grasped each other passionately & an exotic fragrance was born...

Rain drops fell to the tune of her anklets...
that chimed in mellifluous chorus,hugging her shapely ankles in joy...

She ran out of her room & let rain soak her through & through...
laden with jewellery & primroses tucked in her hair.

With a letter clutched in her hand, her eyes seeking the horizon hungrily...
she hummed,she laughed,she splashed on puddles like a street urchin.

The wispy thin fabric clung to her curves apologetically,
while men ogled...

Wet and vulnerably young...
men envied the man for whom she danced in the rain...

Must have been waiting for long...
they discussed in murmurs.

Her smouldering eyes looked even more enigmatic...
with kohl dissolving in the rain & running down her face...

Her diamond nose stud sitting pretty on that delicate nose
shone brighter on getting wet...

Blood red dripped down from the parting of her hair...
vermilion that a widow needed no more.

For no one knew she was crying...
rain wiped away her tears...

So it was agony,not ecstasy that the men had witnessed..
the dastardly rains had misguided them all....

The Harem...

Dripping mane…
Mischievous smile lighting those bee stung lips…

Careless beauty…did someone say?
More of a vivacious flame that dances wickedly

Teasing the senses…
Tempting the dormant feelings.

A storm caught in a glass jar
Captured & imprisoned…

Nailed to the wall
And trapped in his love…

Some neatly stacked on shelves in his glass palace,some nailed to the wall.
Stand all the fair maids he once loved,or so he claimed….

Not one,not two…
Not a specific wild flame in particular…

We are talking of an exotic harem here…
Preserved and embalmed.

Room that echoes with stifled cries..
Of love that was promised & never kept.

And he goes about his job with sincerity…
Trapping the impossible….

The bevy of wild manes,caught by his expert hands…
Entangled in his web of love….

And there it stands…
One more new jar to the already pretty collection….

For a taste of eternity from his luscious lips…
They trade their wings for the glass jar

Peekaboo...she said tentatively...

Stirrings within me....I peek out of my self imposed restriction...

Is it safe to put my heart on paper again
and let the drops of blood melt into words?

I think so...yes it is...


Tentative,skeptical steps towards the blog world once more
This is where i belong,where i feel satiated...

But time is a factor...
Too busy building my life from scratch again...

Priorities in life have changed...
But blogger,i shall always remain...

'On a swing'

You can be the ground beneath my feet and I shall be all the ground that you need…(Ground beneath her feet, Rushdie)
And that is exactly what I thought I had read in those earnest eyes .

But look, I am on a swing now and even though you pulled away, I don’t have to worry about falling into a pitless void any more…

There was a time....

.....When u meant the world to me.

She said....

I am sorry folks,I know all of you were waiting eagerly to get till the end of the story but I had to delete the previous 2 posts....I am caught in an emotional turmoil and I cannot breathe life into that story anymore, it had five more parts to it but now the story can go no further ....it had not been my intention to hurt anyone by penning down that story…..

'On second thoughts....'