On Ruhi

These days she spends most of her time in her room.
I have hardly ever seen her downstairs.
God knows what she does in there?
For heaven's sake, is life all about writing those bloody things which no one reads?
Life is about behaving like a normal girl..helping me in the kitchen..
Life is about combing you hair, working hard, clearing competetive exams...earning money..and coming out of that rat hole she lives in!

These days she doesn't even return the calls of her friends..
When asked she says,
'Oh! I don't get to know when time slips out of my hands...
it's not my fault, but u know, I can somehow
never manage to do anything but laze around..'

You either find that soundbox in her room bursting and tearing my ear drums
But at times the music is so soft that I would have to toil that treck up the stairs to her room to find out if she is alive not in a coma.

To my 'Come down and Have lunch babay!'
There would be no respone...
I would scream'Ruhi? Ruhii?'
She would whisper 'Send it up here please'

And when I push her door open, I find her staring out of the balcony.God knows what she finds there.
I remember having argued with her father that we would never need that balcony, there is nothing worth seeing to that side of the house. There is some kind of a jungle, in summer the earth is all cracked up, in monsoon the creepers from it climb upto her room and no matter what she wouldn't let me do anything to them, not even when i threaten her that snakes would find their way up.
And now,that it is winter, the jungle is her laboratory, where she cooks up the fantasies she lives on.
When i take her breakfast up at eight, she makes me feel as if her vision can tear through that impenetrable fog.
Ruhi, can see things she wants to, she has always done that.

And again you would hear me shouting 'Ruhi, babay, Daddy is here..come down and let's have dinner..?'
Sometimes she would honor the ground floor with a visit, most of the times she would not care...

Upstairs, she would be pushed to one side of her bed like an ailing asthma patient, she would be scribbling things in her diary, staring into the dark sky.
Count stars, does she? I never asked..i never could ask.

I don't know where she will end up,i dread the consequences of her life..

May be in the way she lives, she finds the answers to her questions.
The answers that i never could find out in my own long life...

the other side of being me

i pray so that i can live sans fear
i write a lot, but have never written about my faith. i am a theist. i can't prove to you the existence of God, but my feet would shake if i stop believing.

i, apparently, am pretty confident.
But i have too many fears lurking within.
Honestly, so many that i go weary.
Fear of an accident that would stop life from taking its happy course, fear of my loved ones being torn away from me, fear of being hapless, fear of death..
i find it impossible to contain my fears within the walls of my heart.
And i can't admit my fears to the people around me.
Many can't spare their time and others will take me for a lunatic(which i actually am)
So i open up to someone who is always eager to listen to me..God
When i talk to God ( not always it is a one-sided conversation you see, haven't i talked about my sixth-sense earlier?) i feel as if all my fears have vanished for sometime at least.

i pray so that i can live sans fear.
Because i know that living when a fear is killing me from within is not worth it, is it?

i pray because i love you God, deeply, truly, madly.

And though i can't prove that God exists, i can't care any less about it.

May my faith in Him only grow stronger...

almost honest

Why do i get a feeling that everyone is oggling at me?
It's a syndrome that i am a victim of ...i have always wanted to camouflage in the crowd...
There is this fear that i associate with being singled out, being visible...
I dread at the possibilities of emerging from the walls where i live.

At a certain place, everything is going about almost fine and then enter I, centre stage...
I am no ethereal beauty that could floor any man...human, but i am very strange.
I got eyes that are bigger than they should be...and my hair produces oil all by itself, no matter how rough a shampoo i use.
And fate always has it that i turn up wearing THE wrong dress...something that no one else is wearing at the place i am in...

People's stares make my mind cough up words like 'eh? what's wrong with me?'

Fortunately if i let five minutes of time pass...i can again get back to being myself. People stop noticing me... and i begin noticing them...

I LOVE observing things around myself...i would love to wait for a friend at CCD or any public place for that matter...sitting alone on a table gives me the liscence to observe, mull, and then finally choose words that would fit in to describe what i think about those people...Forget it...i confess...i flat stare at people!

Hmmm...I am single though, i like watching couples...! i have had a few posts about my adventures of gazing at drowned-in-the-nectar-of-love twosomes...i try to figure out the chemistry that binds them together. Love is an all time beautiful thing to me. And the naive victims of my gaze are so much busy in fathoming each other...that they don't get the slightest idea that their emotion is literally quenching my aesthetic hunger..whateverthatmeans!

And about the quotes on T-shirts of guys...Oh! they are the things i am the second most obsessed with...( my first obsession is me!) I go nuts about reading those quotes and later laughing to myself...i do what not , i die to look at the T-shirt till i am able to read it completely...and comprehend it and laugh at it. And the poor guy thinks it was him i was staring it...:)

Well here is another confession...i also spare my stares for those marvellous masterpieces i have blogged about earlier. I indulge myself...never deny myself anything that 'I' ask for...I passionately admire anything i love... But at the end of the day...I am the apple of my I.

mez havin a writer's block!

We want to have no memories
Of days when we
Stood in the rain
Under sky high trees
And even then
Almost half bathed ourselves

A Long Story

She saw a missed call from an unknown number. Called back to ask who.

'Hello, koun bol rahen hain?'
'Aap koun?'
'Aap ne call kiya tha, aap ko pata hoga main koun!'
'But abhie to aapne call kiya hai'
'Very funny!'

She hung up!

She got a call again. She girded her loins...She will show him some fun now.

'What is it that you want?'
'Pehle pehchaan koun?'
'What rubbish!'

She was about to disconnect out of sheer disgust,out of her apathy towards people who trouble innocent girls via phone.
Then she heard something like this

'Arrey main yaar...kamaal hai...tu to ekdum bhool hi gayi!'

Her heart missed a beat. Till that day she had called back every unknown-number-missed-caller begging God it should be him.
Was it him? Him? Him?

'Koun?' she whispered...

'Main yaar...(we keep the first name a secret)...(we also keep the last name under covers...)'

Time stopped. Her palms went sweaty, forehead was burning. She didn't know whether to be happy...or nervous...or impersonal..
Her breathing took a pause...

It took a minute for her to gather herself and behave as if she had never expected him to call... It was raining and thundering
outside. That didn't matter..nothing mattered...she was carried into a land faraway. That moment she had everything she wanted.

Wonder why he always called up when there was a storm outside...there were many story summer afternoons then...Could be because he
had nothing better to do...


Days passed by. Storms went by. He didn't call again...

Her heart learned to cry again. It writhed in anguish again. It tore itself apart into pieces and pieces. Her heart brooded
about the futility of further existence.

But look at her mind. The mind thought of exploiting her plight. It squeezed her pain to make words out of it. Her mind made
her write and write consoling her that she would be able to come out of it one day is she wrote it all out! But she never
overcame anything, she could never wipe out the occurrence of that phone call two years ago...that stormy summer afternoon.

The heart was like a naive orphaned child. How shrewd could her mind be...how selfish...how cruel...how...

She wondered how the two of them, her heart and mind coexisted between the boundaries of the same body...

Her heart was so much like herself...and her mind, it was so much like that people...people who know how to churn a name
out of every exploitable source...

She wrote about her pain...people read. She accumulated accolades... Her mind liked it all.

Did anyone ask her heart? The ovation and the praise did nothing to better its situation. It writhed in anguish forever.


I’m going home
I miss the dust of my streets
I miss looking at the mellow morning sun
I miss my mother’s lap
I miss crying till my heart’s at ease all alone in sultry afternoons…
The river would have washed away the temples I had made with wet sand

I miss staring innocently into the infinite unknown
So much used to be unknown then
Unknown, Obscure and yet to be achieved

I’m going home
My tears have waited enough

But it’s been so long
I’ve forgotten the way back
Someone tell me where home is…

in the shadow of the stars...


Dear Adam, (Point wise would be better)

*As I saw you riding away, I don’t know why but my heart twitched in pain. This could have been because I had placed you in it as the ideal man. The only man. My Adam.

*You were all I could ask from life, the materialization of all the day dreams that my mind had mulled over since adolescence.

*No one had ever ventured into this proximity of my heart where you lived.

*When you spoke, all my senses numbed. When I stared at you, everything else about me ceased to exist but my eyes. I saw the way you said your words, distinctly, with your own fresh style. I literally drank those moments up, when you talked about fun, about life, about the movie-‘The Pursuit Of Happyness’- I gaped at the free spirit you housed.

* The way the hair on your chest showed when you left that second button open, and my mind strayed to the places where it shouldn’t have. The smartness, the over-smartness rather…I became a fanatic of everything about you.

*Things I related you with were of the kinds of fun, I always ‘pretended’ I had a crush on you…Funny! Isn’t it? Hmmm…You kept the fires of my heart burning when there was a drought everywhere around! Never had I imagined, I would be so frozen with poignance the moment I saw you leaving forever.

*When you are gone, I would always remember with glee the moments of trance that entrapped me when you were around, and my shock the moments when I discovered that you are a Bengali and when I realized that it was the last time I saw seeing you!. Also the giggles would come back to me, the giggles that had erupted when I discovered that the initials of your name are A & D and I christened you ADAM forever! La!

***I have fallen in love many times, with many men. So love comes easy to me. But I never fell in love with you. Wonder how paradoxical it is to meet Mr. Right and not succumb to the sweet pain that love is.

May be I have achieved some kind of say over the philandering whims of my heart. Some kind of equilibrium that comes only with time!
May be she loved him. He was unaware.

When he sat beside her on her bed, she was busy typing away on her computer. But she was only pretending. All that time, she had been crying. Craving for a shoulder to lean on and cry more.

When she sensed him rustle the air around her, she turned to him and leaned. On him. This happened involuntarily.

Her tears wet his shirt. Astonished, he didn’t know what to do. He softly ran his palm on her back, afraid of hurting her. She felt like a flower in his arms.

There is a difference between hugging and leaning, we all know. The former involves more warmth and some steam. And lust at times. Leaning is more abstract a thing; more emotional than physical. It is she resting her head full of troubles on his sturdy shoulders.It involves relief and satiety. It is a subtle confession of what he meant to her.

KP Special!

I dyed my fingers in flowers for you
Their color faded as they yearned for your touch

Every winter when the tree burst in full bloom
And the road leading home became fragrant with promises
All the while walking back alone
I peeped coyly from amongst my hair
To see if it was you, tiptoeing beside me

Every time it rained
And it got duskier and darker
The drops came down
And trickled down my window
I have wanted to feel you close, very close


I am a traveler. The traveler in me showed up, when I was staring out of a sleeping train, into the sky with innumerable stars. I realized that I hadn’t star gazed for months. Those few hours, I could not ask for anything more. I was so content with being me. I had to crane my spondylitic neck up, against the bars that bounded the windows, and still I felt no pain. All that I was doing, was all for myself, solely for deriving some kind of mental satiety and peace that I always keep on chasing...like a thirsty traveler chases a mirage. And I grow so glad, when I find the key to my happiness, be it merely for a few hours. I relish every moment I spend with myself.That's all!

To whoever!

Dear flirts, why don’t you understand?
No matter how you make your ways grand
You are things, I just can’t stand

Every time you meet some chick
Graceful, cute and chic
Or spectacled, lonely and a geek

You will have more ways to devise
To make her realize
That it’s she you fantasize

Talk to her through out the night
You skillfully intersperse that talk with an endearing fight
Tell her she’s the most beautiful, to her very delight

Hold her hands
Sink your fangs
Frame your phrases with such brilliance

Unaware of your flirtatious flair
Of your heart other females could demand an equal share
Had she known, she would slit your throat without a care

When will you feel?
That the wounds of love take long to heal
And it is tough for her, to renew that old zeal

Haven’t you by now slaked your thirst?
Settle down; look for your right woman first
Think love forever and not just one night of lust

being lovelorn-this is how creative it can get

When we bid adieu the last time, I didn't even know that it would be the last time. I couldn't even mourn it. I couldn’t even weep. I had shout till my screams tore through these walls
I had beat myself to quieten myself, to calm my wrath.

My eyes wouldn't shed a tear, with the fear that tears wouldn't suffice. Nothing could even begin to console the loss that I had gained. Even today, when in solitude I wonder if you would really come back and beg to be pardoned at my feet and kiss my hands, and cry to be taken back.

You are the answer to all my silences. You can quieten my bleeding heart. Only you...

Deja Vu

~~~~~He has the same curious eyes, that same towering person. The same hair and it falls on his face like yours did. When he is around, I feel as if I am standing beside you. The same air of negligence, those mute grunts of frustration. He looks so much like you that I can’t afford to look at him.
When I see the same person again, a spasm of sorrow clinches my face, my heart twitches, and I feel a lump in my throat. And I want to inflict the sweet pain on myself, again and again.

It’s time I begin trying to find out, whether I really miss you. Or I miss that
craving I had for you? ~~~~

Letters To Myself

Why was I born a woman? It is so damn challenging. Men chasing you like bloodhounds from every possible direction. Looking at you as if you were an object, treating you like one. I am so frustrated. It’s so harsh to know that your gender poses as such severe a problem. Makes me hate all men in general. I am in such a trouble. I am like hooked up. Can’t do anything. Such a pain to be looked down upon, knowing that you are almost equally capable. Being treated like dust, it’s so inferior. When they make you feel like one piece of shit, incompetent, which has been created just to entertain men. It’s like a heartache. Pathetic. Being sidelined in everything you do as a group. Can nothing alter this kind of a sick mentality that men foster? When it comes to interacting with the other gender, many educated men behave like illiterate know-nothings. Just because we use our hearts as much we use our brains, we can’t be taken for granted. Let me pardon all men for being on-your-face flirts, and over -sexed animals, even then I find it unbearable to accept them for the way they behave, as if we have no hearts, we do not hear those absurd whistles, vulgar comments, those I-will-eat-you-up stares. To add to my woes, women are a minority. If they luckily don’t die before they are born, there are butchers sitting right here, to torture them, mentally and physically throughout their entire lives. There is such an acute dearth of good men. Oh! That’s so much like an oxymoron. Do you always have to please a man to rise higher, become better? Succumb to his flirtatious tricks or become a booze buddy? Can’t I continue the way I am? Clear & straight, and as a woman?

About not being in love

and about being twenty...

I like being empty hearted. When there is no one whose name my heart murmurs every now and then, when there is nobody whose thoughts irk my mind all the time. I like being empty hearted. I am at peace when I am not in love. At peace with my internal complexities, and the complex world around me. The equilibrium that I have always tried to find, looks closer and more achievable.

When I am not in love, I am more unbiased about things in life. Where as when in love, it is my biggest preoccupation and never stops kidding around with my subconscious. It affects my perception of things, adding another pinch of melancholy to my already melancholic existence. When in love with somebody, the dearth of that person hurts so much that it is tough for me to get out of the solitary ordeal that I undergo, and sense some normalcy in life. There is a perennial heartache, which I want to come out of, because getting myself rid of love, looks anything but impossible and sinking deeper and deeper into it looks inevitable. The act of unloving apparently lies beyond the last blue mountain…

Being able to feel the sorrow of people is my forte. And being in love takes this elite trait of mine away from me. Love spoils me, wastes me, makes me a good-for-nothing fellow, a melancholic dumb fool, living in another world of which no one knows, and nor do I…love kills me…slowly, so that I can relish every bit of the pain, that I love and loss are endowed with.

Touch Wood! I am not in love. And may it be this way forever…God Bless me…Happy Birth Day To ME…And I am TWENTy~~~~~~

To You,

Again after half an hour I found you sitting opposite me. We were talking to everybody but to each other. You absolutely generate no feeling of love in me. No attraction or appeal of any sort. Nor are you a crush. Not even some passing fancy. Nor do I admire the way you think, or the way you speak, as is the way I analyze the other guys I come across. It is not that I miss you when you are not around. Nor would I die to talk to you.

But there is something about you. I admire you the way a man admires his woman. I love to look at you…that’s it. I want you to sit in front of me for hours, so that I can study the contours of you face, knit words out of the glow of your skin, write poems on your hawk eyes, nibble a bit of that extra large nose of yours. I want to sink my eyes into the pinkness of your lips. Analyze that toothy smile or should I call it a grin…. with all the brains I have.That grin looks so vulnerable, so nascent, when it envelopes your lips. I would look at the smooth flow of words from your mouth. Oh! I would almost drown myself, admiring the way God has made you. You are one object I admire, like I do admire very few things…But you could never generate any feeling in me, thankfully. It’s just your appearance that appeases my senses. My external senses…the eyes…that’s it. Hardly anything but the pleasure of having seen you, penetrates me….the heart is so indifferent to you…
With Love,

From Me

A tryst with myself...

I am just a spectator as I watch my life take new dimensions every day. Frustration ruled my moods from the past couple of days. I had been grilled by situations to a good extent. I begged my patience to stay with me for some more time, some more time and some more time. I drilled holes in my heart, consoled my tears…I learned to face tough things…bad people. I tried to perform whatever duty had been entrusted to me to my level best. I dragged my feet; I tried to have an agreement with life, as it is .It was tough indeed. It wasn’t fun. I wanted things to get over, and then I thought I would shrink into my world, where I would sit alone…and mull over things like I do. I would cut myself off from the people who have disgusted me to no end. I was irritated because of being denied the things I deserved, but tried to hide it under my skin…I wanted to stabilize myself and face the challenge that life had posed before me.

But, nothing else satisfies me as much as hard work does. The definite reasons for this are unknown. May be it is about the sweat I shed. Or the labor my legs do running about, or the stuffed up feelings I discard after dancing till I drop. I love dancing, though I don’t know dancing. Dance is an absolute purifier. I am surprised when I witness the way it purges me. Music bursting my eardrums and my hands and legs moving as if my brain has lost control over them. It is sometime now that I realize what Paulo Coelho meant when he talked about dancing taking people closer to their souls and to God in The Witch Of Portobello.

It is one of those rare occasions when I am genuinely happy. My nerves are calm. There is some peace about this moment that I want to live for a thousand moments more.

Somebody said one should never try to re do and re live the best moments in her life, she would end up only disappointed. Because it is impossible to re invent the charm that fate had bestowed for that instant on the infinite time axis. So I should rather no try to relive this moment ever. Of course, if my memory is promising enough I would relish both the pleasure and the pain forever.

It was during those tough times that I comprehend my potential and learn about my weaknesses. I take feedback from people, if it makes some sense to me. Whether I implement it or not, depends on me. I would rather be unaccepted as I am not, rather than being accepted for somebody I am not. I am someone who should rather cut down on the capriciousness and the ingenuity and should add things as pragmatism and patience to her. People ask me to change a little by little. But I guess it would be something not that favorable to change. This stark difference from the crowd around me is what it takes me to make Me. I love myself and I want some peace to seep into my being. There is some kind of an equilibrium. And I want it to stay for sometime, before it vanishes. That’s all…


Things that piss me off:-

*Sycophants & people falling for sychophants.

*Bossiness in (wo!)men.

*Fake people, fake emotions...i would prefer genuine hatred to counterfeit love;I also prefer people who 'properly' express their feelings to those who hide them, people whose minds i can't read on their face...I wear my heart on my sleeve...

*Men who do not respect women and do not beleive in their calibre.I include flirts here...with this i include almost all men in 0my 'hate-list'. OH! ME!

*Emotional blackmailers.

*Lack of enough patience to be a patient listener...in those people who call themselves my close friends...

*Also those so-called 'close friends' who pour out their unnecessary crap...even whem i am not in a mood to listen...

*Things (except love) that do not have any logical backing.

*Lack of gratitude.

*Sluggishness in action & lack of decisiveness...

*The word-------"Whatever!"...which is like saying'I-don't-care'.I would like to like people who give a damn!

*Unmourned-for deaths...

The Brooding Tree

No matter where future takes me, I know life can never be easy. All the hardships I am seeing myself through...the sun, the rain. The patience and the perseverance, the fatigue, the failure and the frustration...headaches and heartaches...All that running about for one silly thing that went wrong. All the sweat...this disappointment. If i oversleep for a damn fifteen minutes the entire day goes bad. Not rare are the days at the end of which i would have set my
gtalk custom message as "life sucks", had i wanted to. I have misunderstandings and quarrels, situations which have me howling and screaming like i have lost my senses...followed by pillow biting sequences...bouts of taking wrong decisions, and facing their consequences, running from place to place with utter hopelessness, losing so many things on the way. I have a long series of problems to be tackled every day...so many things to be brooded over. Shame and denial
to be looked at in the eye.

And amongst all this there is one subtle realisation that I have begun to live like a machine. Life is as static as that of a vegetable, despite all this crazy panademonioum. Living has been reduced to mere existence. I am not going anywhere...despite all the running.

One more thing. What has changed about me? I have learnt to defend myself, against myself. I have grown an innocuous sense of acceptance of myself as what I am, without any further changes. Gone is the desperation of a nevereneding improvisation of my skills and knowlege. I have great sympathy for myself. I spend hours in balming my own wounds, singing to myself. Laziness holds the strings of my life, and I am a great sleep lover as ever.

This i realise is a part of building the person, i would be five years hence. That's all!

Walks To Remember-3

Care to read Part-2? Y/N

Read on...Part-3

I was sure that my Saturday evening excursions were going to remain as solitary and undisturbed as before. I had proved it to him that he was just any other guy for me. I had nothing to prove to myself, I was so damn confident about myself, my decisions were so not trapped up
in my emotions as before...I would nott remain a teenager anymore in a month or two.

I had seen him in some restaurant with one hot chick last Wednesday. I would have not smiled at him otherwise, but I did. He had responded
awkwardly. I definitely wanted my presence to be acknowledged. My glad smile would have left him with no face to come back this Saturday. But that generous smile that had bloomed on my face that time was somewhat superficial. Typical 'girl-thing' you know. No! How would you

On my way back on Saturday, I was feeling some kind of a relief come over me. But he found me again. He smiled at me as if we hadn't met earlier...that Wednesday. 'Is he under the impression that I suffer from short-term amnesia or something' I thought. A sarcastic giggle rippled within me, as I didn't return that smile of his. Self-pity and cynicism have always been parts of me...I can't do without them.

He added a "hi". I looked up at him, stretched my lips into a vague smile...looked down again. This is the last time anyway, I thought. I am too mature to understand everything, i have seen so much of the world, and don't you dare think I am naive enough to fall into such traps now...

"Sorrry, I am late" said he.

You think I was waiting for you, haan? Very funny!

"So what were you doing there on Wednesday? Never thought you do hang around with the other girls."

He takes me to me that dumb, disgusting! It is all about a fair face, lovely locks and 36 24 36. Anyway, never mind!

"That was a treat that I had been taken to...by the girl you saw me with, the other day", his voice shook.

Did she kidnap you to treat you?

I was silent all through...not a word uttered. And my muteness was irking him, or so he showed.

A "Wow, great!" escaped my lips...and my lips curled to produce a smile...I tried to hide any bitterness that was oozing from within me.I then continued, "Many guys would kill to go on a date like that". I giggled at him. I realized that i was teasing him. Oh My God!

Now what would I expect him to reply? Something like---Oh not my problem actually, I am so affable, I am made into a magnate whenver women are concerned...

My expression tried to convey him...'Why are you trying to explain things to me Mr. So & So? Who am I?'

And this time he came close to contradicting my 'every-other-guy' prejudice about him. He stayed mum for some time.
And I didnot want to believe it when i heard,"I come here every Saturday, not for nothing, you know".

Then he shrugged and sighed. Looked straight into my eyes, I got locked in that gaze...until I could bear no more of it! It was as if his vision could penetrate into my deepest insides...and he could see my past & present in one glance.

Even I before I could react, I saw him walking away into the wilderness, merging with the darkness from which he had appeared.

To Pain, My friend

I have been trying to get back the pain
My pain
Because pain is my fuel
Fuel to live and write

But my pain has left me far behind
Distant in time
Dissolved in some past page of life
I miss you, pain

I miss the agony, the desperation
The impatience and anticipation
Now scavenging on bits of complacency and a stoical silence
I want to get back the time when I never ran out of pain…


Conversation on the phone:

Shikha: -Yeah, hi!
Salil: - where are you?
Shikha: - what where? At this hour, should I be playing basket ball? I am in my apartment of course…
Salil: - Can you come out for a moment? I, actually…
Shikha: - what? It’s 2 o’clock man! C’ mon!
Salil: - mmmm…actually I am waiting downstairs…
Shikha: - what is it actually uh? Is this the time? Go and come back tomorrow.
Salil: - I didn’t drive down 15 kilometers just for nothing.
Shikha: - then what did you drive down for? C’mon yaar!
Salil: - can I expect to have you here in another five minutes?
Shikha: -Of course not!
Call disconnected!

Ten minutes later…conversation downstairs:

Shikha: - Yes sir? What can I do for you?
Salil: - get in!
Shikha: -huh? No! I won’t!
Salil: - you think I am going to kidnap you or something?
Shikha: - well, you never know (giggles, and gets in)

The car zooms into motion.

Shikha: -(screams) Oh My God! Where are we going?
Salil: - wherever you say!
Shikha: - what? No kidding yaar, where are you taking me?
Salil: - hmmmm…the beach probably? Or do you have some other place in mind?
Shikha: - and you have plans to fish? Did you go mad or something after that promotion?
Salil: - I have always been as mad; it was you who never realized it!
Shikha: -Shut up! Priti will get worried…I told her I will get back in a minute…
Salil: - who is that?
Shikha: -uh? She is my loving flat mate, clear?

Silence persists…until the sea appears.

Salil: -here you are…I know it’s the sea you actually love (winks), so brought you here, at midnight it looks the best!
Shikha: - but why? What’s wrong with you?

Salil leaning on his car, Shikha kicking the sand…

Salil: -I love you

Shikha gives him a confused momentary stare. Gets into the car, and calms herself, trying to convince her that nothing had happened. That she had heard nothing. Anyway, she had foreseen it…

Salil: - what happened?
Shikha: - Drop me home, please!

Conversation in the apartment:

Priti: - I saw it all (grins).
Shikha: -what?
Priti: - so?
Shikha: -he proposed, I guess!
Priti: -(Hysterical) I knew this was coming! Oh my God! What did you say?
Shikha: - me? I said nothing…
Priti: -I doubt your sanity! Shikha?
Shikha: -haan
Priti: -let me tell you that you just said ‘nothing’ to a friend of 3 years and the guy you almost love.
Shikha: - Almost! (Sighs) Goodnight Sweety!
Priti: - You are absolutely hopeless!

It’s around half past eleven the next day. Shikha receives Salil’s call.

Salil: -what’s up? Where are you?
Shikha: - Me? Oh! I am playing basketball! C’mon, I am in the office, and I was conspiring to kill my new manager…
Salil: - Spare the poor chap, he already has a painful life, with you working for him!
Shikha: -Can you please shut up?
Salil: -Alright! Let’s have lunch together?
Shikha: - no! I am busy.
Salil: - Can I expect to have you at 12 30? And you know the place, don’t you?
Shikha: - No ways! Bye!

Shikha and Salil talking across their lunch table:

Salil: -Excuse me, but I proposed you last night, remember?
Shikha: -So?
Salil: - So, say something?
Shikha: - What should I say?
Salil: -Say ‘yes’.
Shikha: - Yes.

And this is the way it should be…Bingo!

¤free spirit¤

I shifted my curtains and made way for the sun. I had never known that the afternoon sun was so warm and nice. The sun shone on my face, as it tried to dry my wet hair. I looked at the newspaper make a cracking noise as it shook in the breeze. I stared at the sun, a circle of vibrant yellow, in a white sky, moving in and out of clouds. My face was a plaything for light and shade.

I thought. I like things that are slow, that do not tax my mind, that are soft and subtle. I would live in a place where everything goes on at a lazy pace. And I would suck the pleasure out, drop by drop, as life crawled sluggishly by my lane. Where the eyes could rest and the hearts could stop thinking so fast.

I would sit on a table-for-one, in the quiet smoky corner of a buzzing restaurant and watch people chatting, smiling, laughing, crying, and going about their lives.

I wouldn’t know joy or sorrow, good and bad, my thoughts would blur into a haze. My nerves, will soothe. This just may give me an equilibrium.

Walks To Remember-2

Walks To Remember-1 is here

This Saturday, I reached a little late than usual. Within myself, there was a big fight going on, should I go, or shouldn’t I?

I did go, only half an hour late. A part of me was relieved not to find him there. I just couldn’t get myself to concentrate. Basically I go to the temple every Saturday, to talk to God. People chill out with their buddies; I unwind in the company of God.

But do I need to mention I was disappointed? Yeah, I was!

Why do I do this again and again? Why can’t I teach myself a simple thing? Why can’t I be self-sufficient? Why do I expect things from people? And all this after the stone hearted men never cared to look back? Why?

As I was leaving I found myself smiling. At someone who had a bigger smile stuck on his face…

‘I thought you wouldn’t come’, he began.

‘Naa, I just got screwed up in the hostel, something turned up in the last moment’

‘Mmmm…. all the hostel responsibilities are thrust upon thy frail shoulders!’

I looked up at him…and raised eyebrows must have told him why-do-you-care-&-you-think-I-am-frail-huh?

When will my ‘stay-away’ attitude bid me adieu, oh! Man!

And we began walking. This time, he didn’t find it necessary to ask whether he could accompany me or not! Took me for granted I guess.

He talked a lot this time. I am someone very much in love with herself. I can never have anytime for someone outside my world. So I never was a patient listener. I call myself very selfish that way. But as he talked, I realized, that an interest rose from some place I never knew existed. I wanted to know more about everything about him. I tried to ward him off my mind, by telling myself ‘I have too many issues in my head, to look into yours, Excuse me!’ But I couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried. And, I did try pretty hard. I always try hard not to fall.

‘So you ‘got yourself rid of your deeds huh?’

I looked at him, and smiled. He grinned. He was no ways perfect, I realized, but nice he was in every possible way…

Again I was walking as if I was I had lost my toes; I realized my face muscles were static. But there was some movement happening within. I was elated. I tried to find out, whether it was for those much craved for evening walks coming true, or for the company of this person.

It was not the first time with me, that I meet some person and I cannot stop thinking about him, so I tried to push him away. And then it occurred that he had stopped talking from quite some time, there was a fearful silence between us. And the road was lonely.

The trees bent down to see what was cooking between the two of us, and then all of a sudden, darkness flew in. I went pale…all the streetlights went off…and I forgot which way I was walking. In a situation as this I always call out, “Mummy!!!” and I did it then also. For a moment I wanted to cry.

Then I could feel his fingers around my wrist, he lead me back home.


she was so emotional
she cried at the slightest thing that hurt her
she felt a lot
she thought a lot
she was an outcast
mocked at
laughed at
& sadly different

she never got their jokes
nor the shrewd human tricks
their back biting
she was so absent all the time...
preoccupied she said
in another world...
where that world lie, she didn't know

some call she heard
to think beyond the usual
to see beyond the horizon
to hear the non-existent, the non-significant
to live beyond the mundane

but she had not grown a heart strong enough
to bear all the criticism
not to care for the ostracism

Walks To Remember

Episode 1: -

I have always had an instinctive feeling that I would meet my soul mate on any of my Saturday evening temple visits. Soul mate is not the boy friend; soul mate is not the future husband. He is the one who complements my soul.

So when this fellow brushed arms with me while taking the charnamrit, I definitely could not neglect it as nothing. Anyway, I didn’t look at his face. I am a girl. And have been taught to look down. And I do this as an act of self-defense. I want to shirk away from that there are other people who exist on earth, beside me. While I was turning away, I heard a ‘Sorry’. I pretended as if I had not heard it and as if I was in a hurry. There was hardly anyone around, and so I thought I should leave. As I was toeing down the stairs and having a final look at the ‘face-of-God’ I raised my eyes, to see the guy smiling. Rare that a guy smiles at me. Such a poker face that I am. I didn’t smile back.

I halted to tie the straps of my sandal, and then would walk back to my hostel. That’s what I do every Saturday evenings. On my way back, I look at the God-like Mountains that bound my college campus. Also this is my only time to star and moon gaze in the entire week. I watch couples walk by, hand-in-hand. So much in love. And I certainly had some expectations from my life also.

But today, there was this guy who said, ‘You are in second year, right?’

Me: -‘Hmmmm…. ya’. I wanted to run away. I saw on his face, an impish curl of lips.

I had never seen him. Damn! Two years at this place, and I don’t know all the fellow humans who are here like me to acquire knowledge!

‘I’m so-&-so’

‘Okay, I guess I have to go’

‘Aaaa…. I guess we can walk together till your hostel, I am going that way anyway.’

I look at him again. Oh! Guts!!!

‘It’s dark, and some ghost might just make his evening snack out of you’

And before I said my next word, I realized, we were walking together. ‘Electrical huh?’, he asked

‘Yeah’, I mumbled….

I was feeling stupid. Being a girl in a college where the sex ratio is as horrendous as 12:1, there are females who are quite like stars in the boys’ hostels, without them knowing it. But me? No ways…I used to be a behenji until a moment ago!

With all my pre-conceived notions about men, I hardly can take any in my life. I just can’t believe anything they say. I wouldn’t call them prejudice, because I am cent percent sure about my findings. And this one? Why on earth was I walking with this guy I don’t happen to know! Just because I didn’t know how to run?

‘Heard, you come here every Saturday?’

‘Ya, I do. Just to get myself rid of the deeds of the week.’

There was a silence, a pregnant one. I said ‘get myself rid of’? Blunder!

May be he is laughing out loud at me inside his heart. Who knows? He is just an agent sent my class guys to find out what ‘behenji’ does in the temple…

My feet wanted to fasten pace. But I wanted to slow down. I was held back by thoughts. I had always wanted to go out on prolonged evening walks on these tree shrouded roads…cool breeze, my companion and me. The companion should of course be should be far from intruding, like a part of the darkness. And even then I should be conscious of the warmth of his breath, the spark of his company.

Coming back to the present, what was happening at present? He was presence was so innocuous and err..nice... Like a part of the darkness. An invisible chord of chemistry linked our persons.

People walked by, people cycled by. They looked at us. I was looking down at the road, as if I had lost two of my toes or something.

‘When did you come back here?’, he broke the ice…

‘Me? Thursday!’

‘I had to return a week earlier, for my project submission and stuff’


‘I’m a year senior’

‘I see’

Did he not get bored of my monosyllabic answers?

‘You are the only one who comes to the temple hun? None of ya friends and all?’

I try to give him one of those why-do-you-care kinda looks.

‘Religious!’ he sighed.

‘Not exactly! But spiritual!

‘Gotcha!’ he chuckled.

As if he understood everything! Because I am something, no one understands…

I saw my hostel approach. He hadn’t asked my number yet. Surprising!

Hell! All the guys do that, or I guess so.

After a couple of minutes, I found myself standing near my gate, watching my ‘so-&-so’ disappear into the darkness…

‘See ya next Saturday’ were his parting words…

®--£$₭The Rat Race€¥₩--®

I run I run I run
In the sun

And in the rain
I sweat I scream

I run I rush

I cry in despair
Tired legs
Sprained ankles
Eyes all burnt
And a mind that refuses to obey

No food, no water
But no hunger even then
Nor am I thirsty
Just that the walls of my stomach
Give me pangs and burns, intolerable

No time to think, and feel, to rest…
To be myself
I am in a desert, and I don’t even see a mirage
Just run, run and run

Run, where?
I don’t know
Blinded by the dust and my dreariness
I follow the crowd and go
Wherever the mob leads me…

Run, drenched in my tears
Drenched in my regrets
Smeared in the ashes of my passions…
Hopelessness, darkness shroud me

I have stopped believing in flowery stuff
Music doesn’t heal my wounds
Poetry cannot satisfy my appetite
Tears can’t bring me to a point
When I can say “I have cried enough”

Like a piece of stone
In the green vastness of a graveyard…
I lie, in my solitary corner…
Weeping away my melancholy

And not an ear to hear
But even then I run, I run and I run…

My Take on Relationships--!

Every relationship has a life of its own. Things start not working after that. There necessarily is no specific reason. Or any big fight that puts the final full stop. There always could be a series of small tussles, revealing the actual incompatibility of the persons involved. Superficiality just doesn’t take you a long way. Just that feelings do not contain the warmth they contained earlier. Two people can’t stay in any kind of a relationship with each other forever. It’s not the ‘love’ thing I am talking about. I am stressing on plain and platonic friendships.

All music stops sounding sweet. All of a sudden, your nice friend of a couple of months starts having priorities more important than giving you the customary daily call, a howyadoin sms. It’s a something in which none of the warring parties take an active part in; even then they are silently responsible. They call it off without consciously being aware of their actions. And all of sudden one day, they realize that the once vibrant rapport, has stopped buzzing. It occurs to them that they are giving a last try to revive the erstwhile charm of their bond. This kind of a break-off is so poisonously passive, and involuntary. Looks like it happens by de-fault.

And I don’t know why this happens. But I have seen this happen. I guess it’s a part of being human. And that people actually do get bored of people. And look out for something new. Just for a change. Life takes its own course. I am sure many of you wouldn’t agree. But this is just what I feel…

Ten years hence--A Story

She had been to the mall with Simi. Lazy Sunday afternoons, you know what they are like for a person like her. Simi had almost coaxed her to throw away the novel she had been trying to wind up for the past three months (thanks to her job!) and help her shopping for her (Simi’s) wedding.

Browsing through the bookshelves, reading the epilogues of books she had always wanted to have, she saw something. She saw someone. Someone who reminded her of what she had been like. It brought back her face, ten years younger than today. She realized that she had not been imagining it all, it really was him. The same man, tall and spectacled. Hair, slightly longer than normal that fell on his cheeks…that stoical indifference in his eyes. That inane shyness. Hardly anything had changed about him. The man she had desired at some point of time stood just two feet away.

She saw him coming her way, and hid behind, something…she hid because, being her true self, she had always wanted to keep certain things to herself. Some secrets are between just ‘me and me’ for her. So she would never let him know that she had come across him somewhere…and went unrecognized.

The passionate days of her youth had passed. Giving way to faint wrinkles that now showed on her face. Many of her haughty and cynical girlfriends had begun too look out for men who could equal their charisma. But she never grew up to that age actually. Age doesn’t matter for poets. She had stopped growing when she was eighteen.

She heard Simi shouting out to her for something, and afraid that he just might get to remember her name if she calls her yet again, (Simi had yelled loud enough already!) she joined her.

When she had been an early twenty something, or younger, whenever things as these happened, she craved for a listener, immediately, but now she didn’t. She wasn’t as excited as then. Thirties had taken their toll on her. Time passed slowly for her…now.

She tried to choose between the bad and the worse dress that the unusually short and stout Simi had chosen for herself. Amongst Simi’s numerous questions like “ How’s this Dini, How’s that? Will this make me look taller?” and the types…. our Dini wanted to believe that she hadn’t seen him. At all!

The wound had been uncovered. It was nothing like she loved him or anything. But the ‘rejection’ came back to her. Those nightmarish experiences of being sidelined by someone she had been awestruck by, had shattered her confidence, and made a thousand streams of tears flow… It had taken so much time to heal.

But then you learn things in life and move on, don’t you?

She thought of all this, before Simi asked her to get inside the car, they were leaving…and for the umpteenth time, she sighed, “I’m just alright!”

Wildflower---A Story---

It has been raining since morning. The way it rains in the hills. I have been born and brought up here; even then, the way the drops of water slide down lively green leaves brightens my eyes.

Today, early in the morning when I was asleep, Sony left. Grandma tells me, she couldn’t afford to see my face. She couldn’t have been able to see me, helpless, this way, when she was going away for ever. Daddy says she is away just for two years, to get her Masters done. And after that, we would have her back; things would be like before, four of us, Sony, Daddy, Grandma, and me of course.

But no one comes back from the land of immense opportunity, does she?

Sony only charmed her teachers; by the way she studied, all through school and college. I had seen her burning the midnight oil, night after night. She always wanted to make it big. As big as Daddy did. She switched her timings efficiently enough to spend time drooling over books in the library, to reading bed time stories to her perennially ill younger sibling, that’s me. The swiftness with which she ran about in the house amazed me. The amazing bounds to which her beauty grew and the first day she brought Sisir home, to show him to me and Granny, I remember everything.

I never saw school after sixth grade, though. Even being taken out for a stroll in the garden was life at its best for me. My thoughts never crossed the boundary that cut off our house from the rest of the world. The world that would never belong to me. The one in which I would never be able to walk without the help of a Granny.

Due to the accident in which I had lost a mother and a leg, feeling the wet grass shy away under my feet, had become an unrealistic daydream. Strolling in and about the vast backyard of ours with my mother was some age of my life; I could never go back to. I wasn’t easy to convince myself, that I would never have anyone like Sisir walking straight into my life.

Initially, for a few months after the accident they had arranged a tutor for me, Daddy didn’t want me to stay an illiterate. But I overheard them talking in the study, Daddy and Teacher. The teacher coaxed my father to understand that my mind was hurt more than my body. The shock I had earned out of losing mother had numbed all my senses. And so I would never be able to study. I wanted to kill him that moment. But I knew, it was all true.

I would look at the oaks stand tall near my window pane. Its hands reaching heaven. Birds defying margins. The horns of the vehicles, that hardly ever penetrated the jungles around our home, always called me. To roam around in the city, like people do. But you know, I am such a problem for my folks, seating me in a car needs a sturdy person. Granny can’t do it anymore. I have seen her grow older day after day. And she has seen me become more and more dependant, vulnerable and helpless.

Oh god in the heavens, I know you exist. Take me out of this world, my world, your world. Give me a hand, take me into the light. Let me touch the seamless brightness that is there, somewhere a little beyond my limitations. Lend me one chance to dance in the pouring rain. One chance to walk talking to the green mountains, singing to the trees as if I were one amongst them. Climb up to the roof on my own, and talk to my dead mother, who is one among the stars…

Lend me one life, without my wheelchair…

To someone not so special---

To the someone who ceased to exist for me:-

I shall be waiting your way to return
Sans you life is not that much fun

Colors go pale
And its things look so stale

Eyes with expectations galore
With every moment, they grow more and more

Every gust of passing breeze
Makes my heart freeze

May be it is you again
I unlock my door, but all in vain

Waiting for you maketh no sense
Oh! I am filled with so much vengeance

That agony of rejection and betrayal
Would never fall short of such a portrayal

Your smile, your love, your sense of humor
Thinking of them now, fills me with rancor

But your, memories don’t leave me alone
And I am always stranded in the days bygone

Soulful music doesn’t satisfy
And all borders does my heart defy

The past gives me a painful spasm
Your void has filled me with sarcasm

With you gone forever
I can’t even respond to any other admirer

But you have to take things in your stride
In order to live and not just survive

To India

‘It would be a real injustice to bracket India within the underdeveloped world. It sure, would become a world power very soon. We have sons (and daughters of course) of our soil running things of indispensable importance world wide…’—this is what many of us people think these days…be it the IT industry or our business conglomerates procuring international giants, or the escalating stock markets. But let me have my say. Stated below are three incidents that shattered (yeah, shattered…I’m not exaggerating in any way) my ideas of India growing out of that bracket:-

1. You heard about that couple from Karnal? (Karnal, the place so famous as the hometown of the martyred Kalpana Chawla.) The guy and the girl loved each other. They belonged to the same gotra (clan). And marriage within the same gotra is considered evil. So after they got married, the panchayat got their hands and legs tied up. They were fed pesticides, and thrown away in some river. Pinch yourself, this is true. This is as barbaric as barbaric could be…

2. There was this news about a Muslim couple from somewhere; they had their twenty-third child on the twenty-third year of their marriage. And this is the way the celebrity couple tackle the intense media glare, on their tiny little happy family—children are Allah’s gifts and we don’t have the right to stop them from taking birth. He creates them; he will take care of them. Allah will make your children literate enough to sensible humans? Allah will feed them? No, dear man and woman, He wouldn’t. You should, because you are the unfortunate reason of their worthless existence. Where can ideas like these lead us in time? Only backwards…

3. The news that Lalu took the Indian Railways a long way from being a tattered organization to one profit making empire, felt good. But now they include it in their private property. There is this brother-in-law of Lalu’s. He, asked the Rajdhani Express to pick him up from the platform no.1 instead of platform no.3 because that would be more convenient for him. He delayed the departure of Rajdhani because he was not accommodated in a first class AC or something. He was heard saying “I am Parliament”, what he meant was “I am a parliamentarian”. Never mind. But what the hell was that?

People, you can say India is becoming rich. 8% growth and crap. But I have seen the poor sink into abysmal poverty. Whenever I hear about India shining, one memory comes back to me.

We had been away on a picnic. Our destination was very far. It took us through numerous villages. And just as our bus passed a village, I saw a bunch of four urchins; all of them pitch black, without a thread of fabric on their bodies, jumping in the shower created by the crack in the pipeline. They were gurgling out laughter. They were screaming out ‘bye-bye’ to us…waving to us, till we drowned below their horizon. May be they had eaten nothing since morning. They compel me to think India has a long way to go. We have a long way to go…right?

Dear Stranger

Now that my holidays are almost over, it’s time I sent away the thank-you letters to the wonderful people without whom it would have never been possible to make my summer break an astounding success as this one. Haahhhhh!!! Here goes the first one…

Dear Stranger,
I am quite sure you do not remember me, but I can’t wipe you off my memory. It was one of those monsoon afternoons I met you in front of Archie’s gallery. It had been drizzling through out the day so far. And the wind was fast enough, to carry away volatile hearts in its hands. And I was there to buy mummy a present for her anniversary. After I got out of the building with the gift, the wind was kind of aggressive then. And my scooty was all jammed inside with some ten odd vehicles around it. I couldn’t get it out of that mess. I called the security guard there, he didn’t budge. And there you were right beside me, chatting away on the phone to a distant someone. All the time you were on the phone, and you gestured to me that you were there to help me. Oh! What a relief. I had been uttering curses to myself all along. You asked me to move out. And as I stood there away from all this lump of vehicular congestion, you struggled for me, and got my scooty out.

And damn! All the time you were on the phone with that ‘distant someone’ talking about train tickets to Warangal. May be you study there or something? I doubt, whether you heard the nearly mute ‘thanks’ that escaped me lips, because you were still on the phone. So let me thank you now…
Yours truly,
Another stranger…you would never know who!

The next letter of thanks is to my CDwallah~~~:D

To someone special---

To the other woman:-

You have a fairer color
A slender figure
And hair never out of order

A smaller face
A gait of better grace
And earrings that heighten his craze

Eyes deliquescent
More intoxicating a scent
With my man, may you never repent

Dexterous fingers, polished nails
And to share with him, a lot better tales

Things very rare
A voluptuous stare
Inestimable care

It’s got something to do
With your lowered gaze
Enthralled, he is always full of praise

About your lips that lure
Your eye balls azure
Your person, so demure

Let me cut it short
With you, may he never flirt

May neither heart ever break
I know the ache is too much to take

Take good care of this man…
After all, you will grow his clan!!!


I had big plans for the holidays. Well, my holidays do stretch for more than two months and a half. And you do actually start making plans a couple of weeks before they start. My end sems happen the last week before the holidays, and by that time my head would be over flowing with the thoughts of silent afternoons I would spend in my room, at home, doing all the typical holiday stuff. And now my vacation is on the verge of termination and if you ask me what I did the whole summer, you would silence me. Seriously, I have lived this entire time, without the vivid memories of a single day.

What I had planned to do? Well, wanted to sink my teeth into c/c++/java all over again. Honestly, it would have been my first time. And I wanted to drink all the good fiction written. And I had planned movies also. And e book adventures also. Make myself learn that the internet is made u of stuff better than orkut and gtalk. Blogosphere is definitely, its weight in gold. More than anything, one thing that I wanted to be done with is as follows:

Most importantly, before the holidays, throughout my life as sophomore at the godforsaken college of mine, I at times was made to feel like a misfit. Definitely out of place. Someone who lives too much herself, for herself. So I made up my mind, if it is so, then so be it. I shall shrink more into myself, and expand! But only with better sense. I wanted my existence to make some sense, of all people to myself. I wanted to have an opinion about things in life. Earlier it used to be so that, I was always hung in mid air. I couldn’t say what is wrong and what is right. I felt faintly rebellious at times though, for some causes, but argument always gives me shivers. I run short of points in my favor. So I felt I could overcome this shortcoming by reading like a nut. And getting in touch with what people feel. But to no avail. I never did that. And even today, I feel as if both the warring parties are right at their own positions. Let them fight, and die. What do I have to do between them? I am cool. I shall never improve, I know.

Gradually throughout second year, I have lost my fervor, my zeal to work hard. And the maddening ambitions that empowered me back in high school. Now that I had none of it left within me, so these holidays I wanted to gain some part of it back. I wanted to take the big decision. What after B Tech? MBA? MS? What? Or just any other job? This was what I was supposed to decide, I was supposed to meet people mature and experienced enough to guide me, show me some light on what things are like in the big bad world. I think I did come across people, but I could not boil down to anything, substantial.

One thing I did? There were certain decisions I wanted to be done with by the end of June, about my feelings for certain people. Which ones were walking out straight of my good books, and which ones I was asking to stay back. And I think I am done with that. I have the answers for myself.

And one thing I couldn’t do? I wanted to instill the conviction in me that people do not mean every thing they say. I have to live beyond my naivety. But I have been one horrendous failure at this.

It’s all about becoming self sufficient. One big time, successful woman! And also a lot happy, if that comes along with it…

~honest mumblings~

Me and my life
We have made our harmony
Signed a truce
No more
No more of thinking till it hurts

The touch of the midnight is so healing
So soothing, that all that is past is forgotten
There is peace, despite the turbulence
I am free from ‘growing up’ now

My eyes can sense a coolness
A stability, enough of day dreams
No expectations from anyone
No waiting for the special arrival

I am happy with all I am left with
Not unhappy for what I lost
My inspiration is long gone
Even then I am inspired

Every day I am a step ahead
On the path of self discovery
But all I know is
I am my mystery!
today, it so happened that i wrote the truest poem of my life. here are exerpts from it:

'of the wishes that took birth in my heartdreams that i saw,
eyes wide opendoing every thing that a normal human would
and deep within, being the thorough bohemian i am
i disobeyed rulesi roamed around guardless,thought like a gypsy
i freed my spirit from all chains chains that i found would make me mundane
restrictions that prevented me from living,
living like a thing so porous,letting life through
living like a flower so wild
i stood amongst you all
while my heart flew amongst the stars'

'i tried to get back the past, the shade of the trees,
the dusky breeze, that nostalgia
i tried to live the future in my own way
a future i wanted, fate sent it back to memy dreams of glass crushed,
as if i were an unwanted dollused and thrown
anyway, i love myself, let things pass,i knew they would
and when i could take no more,
i resorted to my pen, to my god, to tears, to crying alone'

'and of love?
i waited for it, all along
got it, lost it
housed an imposter for the lover
despite what i am
i still cherish sunshine, the dew
i love the first rain, the gush of a wind
i love the written word
i even do write a word, which noone reads..'

'i craved for care, for praise
for love, for passion
at times like a foolish frog,
i waited for fairy tales to come true
and even today, when i stare into the depths of my soul
i know, i am the same person
untouched by times
and so it shall remain,
the 9 year old thinker of my memories
will live in the 50 year old wrinkled face of mine'


Date: may ** 2007
Time: 7 pm around
This should be the happiest moment of my life. Should be. ‘coz I just got whatever I wanted for quite sometime in my life. If I could, I would have frozen these moments in time. And I am so shocked that I can’t even relish this state of mind. My muscles are ready to jump into the air. I am feeling a little too crazy, and so I cant absorb all the happiness around. What should I do? Thank you God. Thanx a million for giving me these tears of joy. Love you…forever…nomatterwhat…love you..muah!

PS :
And I will just to add this as I end this. When you have been dying for some wish to be fulfilled, and one day it so happens that your wish is fulfilled, you donot feel as elated and hysterical as you think you should have. because the value of things decrease the very moment you begin to posses them. The achievement chains the madness you had within earlier…

just wanted to post this, incase i look back some day...n find this post out, and feel good or bad...i dunno---but let it be there...lemme have a witness to some part of all that i have been thru' :)

monsoon 2 me

Monsoon to me
Means a wet creeper climbing unto my window
While I sit there, devouring a novel
An old novel, with its edges torn
A discovery from my uncle’s a rickety shelf…
Yellowed pages, eaten up by fungus
Sitting on dad’s archaic bed
At my ancestral place

In the nights,
Ruthless thundering
And the fear of a snake sneaking in

Monsoon to me
Means a scooty ride
After a tiring day,
The air clean of dust
The road shining clean…n vehicles rushing home
Me crying to loosen the heart
Drenched in tears and rain…

Monsoon to me
Means the coconut tree near my window
Beating the glass pain…
And it raining throughout the nights…

Monsoon to me
Is waking up
One Sunday morning
To find puddles in my backyard…
Watching news with a cuppa in hand
The rest of the state brimming with floodwaters…

Strange thoughts,
Dreams that would never be true
Frequenting my mind every now
And then…

sixth sense

My sixth sense gives me jitters. There have been days when I have hated having this sense. I can smell death from a distance, I can’t tell you who will die, but I can tell you something very very painful is round the corner. I get to know, if would lose something, and I would lose say an earring that day, I would be feeling down the whole day, and my cycle was stolen…someone would run away with my purse…I would know that we would not have a class someday. Whenever I am told that something exciting is yet to happen, the most coveted of friends would call up, and so on and so forth. Sometimes I hate myself for this, knowing something bad is to happen, but you don’t know how to stop it, it hurts…I cursed myself for having been blessed…or cursed…I gave god a nice scolding one night…thinking that he would never dare to give me a sixth sense ever.

Did I tell you when I get my sixth sense working over time? When ever I prayed, and I would be desperately begging god to keep all well, safe and sound, (I do that), some silent voice picks up from the boundaries of my brain and conveys me the message…earlier on I was excited, but later on as I have told you, it was too much of a burden, power means responsibility also , you see…so I gave god that nice scolding and was glad that I did not get those sixth sense warnings for a few days, and then they were back to ma again…

Today morning, I was told that I would meet someone good. So I was brimming with expectation, you see. Someone would march into this parched life of mine…had my oracle class in the morning, my ‘fantabulous’ teacher left us early, so I thought, this is just because I can meet the special person, me and a friend went shopping. I looked around the mall for the special person…grr…him….he was nowhere to be found. Met a school friend gossiping away with his girl friend (who is also my junior), felt like an old woman there. Definitely this was not the special Him, I said to myself. Tried to keep my spirits high. The whole day went by, did orkut somewhat, saw the remaining part of godfather three(I am watching movies in bits and pieces), loved Al Pacino all the more. Now Al Pacino (well no doubt he is just too good) couldn’t be the special person. Made 3 to 4 new chat friends. None of them were the special Him I am talking about.

So what? I called it quits with my sixth sense. Nothing doing, how come it was wronged? Anyways, never mind, there always is a next time. Mum surprised me, “get ready, we gotta be going to some party” . now what would I think---same good old colleagues of mum—same good old namasteys, hi’s and how’r u’s, n which year are you in? how’s the food in the hostel…why r you going thin? Is the study pressure killing you, my child? Blah blah! Well I was all set for it, was also kinda looking forward to dad getting back home soon so that we would be able to make it the party before almost everyone leaves(this is something we are used to). And waise bhi, I would be going to a reception after a good one year or so…

Went there, and met a girl--jewel. A reflection of what I was, four years ago. Though she has better eyes than me. :P just fell for her. When wavelengths match, what else can a loner like me ask for? It’s the soul’s counterpart we are all craving for at the end of the day.

So kids, what do we conclude? We wind up today with the conclusion that my sixth sense stands strong and sturdy and tall (can’t omit that word, everything tall is so good—I hope you are getting my point :P) my special someone for the day was not a Him but a Her…oh! woteva!

to that couple

I never realized that greenish brown was such worthy a color, before I saw her wearing a shirt of that color. It suits that kinda figure, you see, slender, yet not bony. And somewhat err..tall…

And look at the guy beside her; he is thin, bony to be exact! My college senior, I guess…(it’s the ‘senior’ part I am guessing because he is not my batch mate, and with all the knowledge he is stuffed up with about oracle, I am sure he is a final year-comp science, he can’t be a sophomore ).

I see them –this couple-(that’s the only thing I do) at my oracle classes these days. Love birds. Also we have one fantabulous teacher there who must have promised some dying girl friend that he would never ever smile; one of the following posts will be about him.

Coming back to the girl, she does not hang those long earrings, coz she hasn’t pierced her ears yet! Must be around 20, so when is she gonna get them done? Shabby hair, I mean not like the one they show in the adds, its curly, short cropped, just a tiny pony…and look at the way she sits, one leg on another, her chappals neatly on the floor. All set give the corporate world an earthquake the day she steps into it! Her voice exudes confidence…

The guy! Not that pleasant a face to look at, a thin one at that. Wears those strange caption wala Tshirts. Has some kind of an attitude! And is full of knowledge as I have told you.

And they are boyfriend and girlfriend. ‘Coz they sit together. Could be siblings, could be pals. But I wouldn’t let them become anything else but a couple.. They are a couple, because I want them to be one. I like the way they talk, both of them slightly bent over their notebooks. As if those two chairs made up their home. Most probably, they help each other clear doubts…the girl goes demure, the moment she faces her guy.

Once, in the lab class, there was just 1 seat left, and both of them chose to go to another less privileged lab( you never get the teacher there)…because they could not bear being separated…

I will keep posting such crap, to vent the frustrated female locked up in my body!
Kudos to my observation skills!

'night'----A story

It had been raining all day. But that couldn’t stop the traffic bustling at break neck speed in the dead of the night. It had been like any other night, every other night. And there she slept on the couch, in their living room. Curled up like a puppy in the cold, her nightdress shining in the dim light of the TV. That is the way it is every night, she would wait, to have dinner with him. And every night, she would doze off in the couch itself, with the TV glaring at her, loud and bright...On some nights, she would sleepwalk to her room (yeah, it was always ‘her’ room and ‘his’ room, they wanted to live like individuals even after tying that knot, a year ago.); and sometimes she would spent the whole night on that couch itself.

Today, she had decided that she would talk to him, yeah, discuss their relationship that was going down the drain. See, you need to put in voluntary efforts to keep your marriage running. Our good old love, doesn’t work these days. But even then she couldn’t put up till he came back, tired like a child, she was.

He tip-toed into the house, saw her fast asleep. The clock said 5 minutes to 1. 1 in the morning!

He didn’t want to wake his wife up. He felt pity for her; she was sleeping like an orphan! He picked her up and took her to ‘her’ room. Lay her on the bed, covered her with the quilt, and was about to leave, when he heard her, “When did you come?” he turned back to find a sleepy girl, rubbing the sleep off her eyes, and trying to get out of bed. “I will just warm up your dinner, gimme a minute. You go and change.” “No, not hungry, gotta catch some sleep…, goodnight!”

This was another part of the daily story, he would dine out, forgetting that someone could be waiting at home, to sit across the dining table together once in a month and revive the dying emotion they called love.

‘This was too much! She was waiting to talk! And look at the way this man, was avoiding it all.’ she thought. “You aren’t hungry, but I am.”, she yelled back at him. Taken aback by this kind of an unexpected outburst from his always-so-calm-n-composed-better half, he walked back to her, sat beside her. “Why haven’t you eaten anything? When did I ask you to wait?” he whispered.

‘This man deserves to be kicked out of my heart, look at his guts, man, I am hungry, get me food first, you ungrateful idiot!’ she thought.
He read her mind, ‘There, she is fuming, the pressure that had been building for months, whistles off tonight.’ “Wait a sec, sweetheart, I will get you the stuff in a minute!”

‘Sweetheart? My foot! I am too old for you flirtatious tricks my dear husband! I am your wife, I know you only too well!’ today, she would give him a piece of her mind. Years ago, in college, the way things worked, when they were friends, friends too shy of each other. She had always loved him. Was unaware of his feelings though. She took the utmost amount of care to see that he wouldn’t get to know of her undying love and crap! A girl should never tear her heart open. She had her mind all set, to do away with him as another silly yet serious crush, she was so sure, he wouldn’t reciprocate. But one day, it took him a truckload of guts to put aside his ego and tell her that he wanted her, as a pre-requisite for his life ahead! Too much in love, to wait and listen to the rebuke of wailing parents, they married despite the differences that arose…And here they were, in this two bedroom apartment crammed up in some collapsing metro in India, with jobs in MNCs, drawing decent salaries, and not in love. The ‘Workaholic-moneyed’ !

He returned with the stuff..grr..dinner! Placed it on her lap, as she kept staring into his eyes, as her eyes shone with tears. Once upon a time, he had fallen for these eyes! Unbelievable! He tried to enliven a sleeping sentiment in his heart, tried to feel their love. But to no avail. “Do I cook so awful, that you have to eat out every other night?” He kept mum. Stoically put a morsel in her mouth. Chewing it slowly, she asked him again “Why? Answer me? Do you even remember when we had talked properly, the last time? I leave this place, before you are up, and you come back to find me asleep. Is this the life we had promised each other?” Tears rolled down her eyes. He kept feeding her. “What’s wrong with us? Why can’t we live to be happy? Content? Like my parents do? I will be moving out in a month or two, and god knows when will we get to live together again, why are you doing this to me?”

And when he was done with feeding this unruly girl, he moved out into the kitchen. She wiped her tears, and called out his name, one last time, loud enough to wake the neighbors, clinching her fist like an irritated kid.

After five minutes, when he returned to her room to switch off the lights, he found her already dreaming. Food had quietened the hungry kid. He noticed the way she had changed in a year, she had grown a lot thinner, he remembered the way she died to shed weight earlier. Girls generally gain after marriage; his wife had contradicted all theories. This city and pollution had given her than tan also. She was no gorgeous beauty men run after, but her eyes! Man! When she closed them, they looked like two leaves put to sleep. And in the midst of all this lovelesness , it dawned on him that he still couldn’t do without this pre-requisite for his life…

And he hurried to bed. He wouldn’t budge from a bed before an eight-hour sleep he knew!