Decades ago, there was a bride. A sari crudely wrapped around her frail figure, whatever skin showed, was filled in with gold. There was a groom, and that old grunting ambassador adorned in threads of jasmine. A dozen drunken men, dancing in mad moves; a perfumed night. Dimming yellow bulbs, shamianas hung out, colors of which aren’t readable in the black and white pictures now stuck on forgotten albums.

There was a bride, not too young, not too old. The groom may or may not have had a moustache. Nobody had seen nobody. Love hadn’t been discovered in those ages. Decades ago. Hymns were read out, women with saris drawn to their noses, sat beside the summer night fire, and dozed. Funnily enough, there is no proof to that demi-heavenly drama. Almost everyone must have been half asleep. But there is the continuance.

Continuance. Scores of fights behind bedroom doors, disagreements, many scars. Children born and fed because they had to be born and fed. Who grew by inches in months, and fell apart. Strings of the womb couldn’t hold anyone together. Each had a mind of his own, too many minds inside one rather.

They fought over who should have the TV remote, they sat on terraces, hidden, stealing a smoke every now and then. Each tenaciously clutched her own secrets, under one roof. Nothing shared, not even glances. Slept turning sides, secretly hating each other. And still posed for photographs together, some of them framed and kept in the living room. Space became a problem, the big problem.

And so the menagerie was complete. Too much for continuance!


Blasphemous Aesthete said...

I wish the black and white pictures gave more details, I wish it could make things stand out, like black in white, or perhaps white in black.

Interesting read,

Blasphemous Aesthete

Anonymous said...

i wish you quiet things... seagulls on silent wings... and yet.. no one wishes each other peace anymore.


Syed Ali Hamid said...

I must congratulate you on presenting a vivid and realistic picture of matrimonial bliss. Takes me back to my poem, "marital Bliss" that I posted on my blog two years back. Am going to post another one on the same subject very soon.

Love in a man-woman relationship is terribly complicated and hence elusive. Can't be sustained for a long time when living together; it finds a more fertile ground in separation---see Romeo and Juliet, Laila Majnu, etc. Otherwise it's the scene you have described, how they 'lived happily ever after'.

For me, the most simple and fulfilling love is between me and my daughters.

But, if there was fulfillment in man-woman relationship, then who would write poetry?

WomanInLove said...

"Strings of the womb couldn’t hold anyone together" - lovely line

I used to think thats the strongest bond between humans..but now I dont

hopelessly flawed said...

the pointless menagerie..and even though they are out..sometimes in their dreams they still rehearse for the show they were supposed to put up...perhaps this is all they share now except that common womb.

@"Strings of the womb couldn’t hold anyone together. Each had a mind of his own, too many minds inside one rather."

You dance with words so elegantly.
Keep dancing :)

Surya Prakash V said...

You have my pizza; what are your toppings?

The toppings my friend is your illusion of choice. Yet who is to deny the flavor in your mouth? Isn't that taught to you too?

But still my friend, there is no hope, for you need none to refuse the menu; a cook yourself a meal; and invite me over -- I will let my pizza go, and give you a taste of my wine. My speciality off my menu ;)

Soumya said...

Beautiful read, wild!
Every line perfect..

Surya Prakash V said...

This knowing; that you don't need anyone is power too; this knowing that a happy individual is Lonely is liberating; this knowing and rejection of sorrow as the basis for men/women in company is the possibility of relationship.

Yet who can stop you from your choice of what you want to experience?

Mind is uni-sex; take away the gender, and all you see is an individual and his traits. Why is a intellectual bully non-violent? And why should strength be rejected?

Take away the distinctions and see the clock strike an asynchronous note - music!

Ps - will mail you the essay when I am done. Thx.

D2 said...

After reading the last paragraph, the thought that comes first to my head is that of cabin fever.

The time passes and things change. But it only appears so
As the lives remain the same.

Raj said...

lol. good read.

Surya Prakash V said...

Wi - this is criminal, I am holding my breath till you come!

Scribblers Inc said...


Scribblers Inc.

P.S.-I went through some of your earlier stuff. You come across as the literary equivalent to modern art. But that's me.