Dirty

26th February 2014

I lay spread
wide open,
marinating
in my sweat,
challenging your pleasant
and decent,
seducing your nice
and honest.

I will open wider
for you.
Seek pleasure
in my festering wounds,
I dare you,
let my pain infect
your dispassionate hunger.
Come, get contaminated
by my rotting bitterness
and my fears,
Come into my
stinking open arms.

Feel dirty,
I dare you,
let
the need to get away
from my repulsive brazenness
make you retch.

Let my legs
draw you in
to sink into
my dirty love;
and leave me there
spread for more!

December Evening

5th December 2013

December evening
hangs off my roof by its toes
like dark chocolate
sadly sweet,
bored,
it ignores
those Christmas lights drowning it out.
Too inspired to spare me its charm.

I run away to warmer deceptions, to rainier indulgences.
I spend months
running away from your love

And you?

You run in the opposite direction, far,
far away from me,
But
you bump into me right around the globe
at the other end of another year, inevitably
shadowing my sun dappled skin.

We can’t run away from each other
I was born when you came
And you end at me
Till we start afresh
away from each other
all over again.

You're my December evening.

Bengal Flavour

Her own fire and spice tempered to the warmth to soothe cold hands and hunger pangs. She gently flaunts her seasoned mild with a subtle reminder of her sparks, as if to a husband. Like the pallu which could flutter wild in the wind, but comes around and rests on her shoulder instead.
She accepts the zing in mustard, like rebellion in a daughter. She blends and binds it with the mellow taste of home, with such tender loving authority. She boasts of the excessive sweetness of her desserts, like the virtues of a son.
And you can taste the lineage and family in all the varied suitors on the platter wooing your taste buds. Like the keys of varied shapes and jingles fastened securely to her pallu. Born to differ and bred to belong!

You'll get me home

Since you melted our roof
and poured it down
the addicted throat
of the seductive world

Since you bartered our home
in the foul market
of all that glitters
and whores and gold

I loiter tasting seasons
broken and destitute
baring love to weather
ruminating faith, blurry

When I near those ruins
I'll have you wait
by that lone door
I'll have you listen
to catch my footsteps
I'll be relief
to your forlorn eyes
"Honey, where have you been?"
you'll say to me then
"It's been so long
I was beginning to worry!"

Scribbles

One day she went and brutally chopped off her mane just to see if her beauty would still be looked upon as majestic. As the weight of it fell away from her being, she felt light, different, crippled and scared. She looked in the mirror to find some sort of notorious pixie staring back at her. Yes, her short cropped ends made her dimples more visible, made her look strangely younger and gave her the air of a loving brat. She also somehow managed to retain a mysterious hint of majestic somewhere in her eyes....so it had never been in her mane. She was beginning to feel a tiny swing in the step she was about to take off of her chair. She turned around with that joy steering her.

But that. That is when she saw the mane at her feet, her heart broke and it left her out of breath before she could think. It used to ride the winds, that mane..That Mane....that mane sang of unspoken power...and now it lay limp on the ground like a defeatist prey awaiting its lowly fate. And she had hacked it away from her body. Her breath slowly came back now as her handicap sunk in...a majestic handicap!

#Reverb13 Day 6: Memories are made of this

What precious things have you gathered in 2013?

Which memories from this year do you wish to keep with you always?

Maybe 'people who have been there for you' is a cliche that has been used way too many times and lost its meaning. This year especially that's my best memory. People who have been there for me NO MATTER WHAT! My mom who left making breakfast in the kitchen for my entire family hurrying off to work, to hold me for as long as it took while i was crying. My sister who listened to the same story and reassured me the same way the more than millionth time, even in her sleep. Can't call her just my best friend, cos a best friend is anyone and everyone and she is my Nikita Deshpande, who possibly took the worst of me this year, kept aside the shit she was going through, the bullshit I added to it, understood and helped me, even though it demanded a lot from her and wasn't very rewarding. The twin soul, joined to my soul at the hip and yet not joined, who made me make myself happen again. My steadiest and most precious affair, who shared my pain and bared me to hers, knowing it was anything but easy for her to do that. All those people who were there this particular year for me without a word, when there were so many they could have said to me.
My memories are them being my rock this year in their inimitable way!

#Reverb13 Day 5: Risk

What was the greatest risk you took in 2013? What was the outcome?

The greatest risk I took this year, was also probably the greatest risk I've known myself to take ever so far. I know this because I am trembling as I write this. I am trembling the way I trembled when I shared my writing with someone, or when I told the love of my life that I loved him or when I frankly held my niece. I am trembling at the thought of sharing this.
Having and sustaining faith in something that has been called impractical and unhealthy for me for very valid reasons and praying for it is the biggest risk I have taken. I have no idea how long the wait is. I have no idea what fate my heart is going to meet by the time this goes anywhere. But its a risk, its a risk that takes a lot more than I realize. I go insane, I go numb giving to this faith what it takes, and it feels like the breath sucked out of me when someone punched me in the stomach.
But I cannot see sense without this faith anymore.
Letting me take the risk of having this faith, a lot of people who love me and are worried about me are taking a risk too. And I am putting at risk, my responsibility to assure them that I am okay. I might sound highly vain, and I promise I am not and you can buy it if you will.

Prayer, faith and love! That's my risk. Its a risk everyone takes and undermines. Its the biggest risk I have taken this year and probably ever until now..

#Reverb13 Day 4: Grieving

What have you lost, what are you grieving?


Ever marveled at the number of times you kiss THAT person? At getting to call THAT person at three in the night to say "I miss you!", knowing he'll get irritated and doing it anyway, knowing he'll be back to normal and in love with you on the phone the next morning? Ever stared at THAT person, admired him completely besotted and okay with being so and told him for the millionth time that you love him? Ever marveled at getting to do all of that with that person just because you can? Just because you're THAT person in his life who can?
I lost that. I'm grieving that. Ya well.. :-)

#Reverb13 Day 3: Listen to your Heart

What does your heart have to tell you?

You know....how do you fail me when I need you the most?
Dear damn heart, where do you go I need that maturity and that wisdom that people say you have?
"Listen to your heart! Listen! Listen to it!
Your heart can never be wrong! Listen to your heart!" they say
I mean where does that come from??

You? What do you know? You know what's right??
Out of nowhere you will stubbornly squat
in memory lanes, at dead ends, atop castles in the air
and back over and over again on that wall
where Humpty Dumpty broke himself
never to be put together again!

You squat, you stubborn brat,
and you throw your hands and feet in the air
and bawl for all those things
you just have to have.
So what if they hurt?
They're yours and they must be brought to you!

There's no bringing you up!

And today you ask for the faith that will kill me? and I will listen to you,

won't I?
"Listen to your heart!" they say, those ridiculously pathetically foolish wise people!
As if we had a choice..

#Reverb13 Day 2: Nourishment

What made your soul feel most nourished this year?

This year, I was made to remember how fabulous I am even at my worst! I was made to realize that it is not okay to forget that cos it comes at a price. And I might take a break from being fabulous but I can never take a break from paying the price of it. Coming home to myself, even though lonely, nourished me this year.
That and the realization that I had no escape from my love for writing and its painful yet rewarding reciprocation. Both of those nursed me back to health. I have miles to go before I sleep.. :-)

#Reverb13 Day 1: On Your First Day

How do you feel, on this first day, in your mind? In your body? In your heart? In your soul?

First day of the last month of this year. I woke up from a nightmare. First day of the first month of this year I had woken up to living a nightmare. Those ghosts haunted me, possessed me and made me unrecognizable.
First day of December, I had the cold grim whirlpool in my stomach, the silent indicator of the arrival of a ghost. I let it own me like I knew it eventually would. I spent the whole day waiting for the ghost to arrive. I prayed for faith to not disappoint me and come to my rescue this time. Faith never came. But you know what? Neither did the ghost.
By the end of the day, I realized the arrival of December and welcomed it. It is the month in which I was born, the month in which I feel most at home, the month in which I feel most me. I let the scent of the month seep into my being and slowly battle the whirlpool. I felt like I was going to retch but by the end of it, I won. I felt exasperatingly at home in the cavity formed in my heart, my body and my soul.

Post Infidelity

"Now listen to me carefully," she said to him through tears and gritted teeth, "Go for it! Fight for her. Convince her that she likes you, because she is not happy with her boyfriend and you know that as well as she and I do. Convince her to give you and her a chance at whatever it is that you both might want. Because the injustice that she is about to do? She'd rather do it to you than to her boyfriend, cos he doesn't deserve it. You do. And one more thing, don't call me ever again."

Months later, when she was still getting over him cheating on her with that girl, but she was better, they spoke. "Its ok," she said to him, keeping the pain in her voice down, "I only took away from you what already didn't matter to you anymore..."

Damning of the Ocean

She let her angels and demons
churn the murky waters in her
to get the right words
to save her

Her sleepless eyes awoke
with the happiness
that she was afraid
to have the audacity to feel

Her Mohini
was just starting to
seduce her demons away;
When
the RahuKetu
of somebody's something better
swallowed the first few droplets
of the elixir restoring her

A cold dark gaping void
replaced her Meru
and shrieked in the faces of her gods,
rendering them forever mortal!

Such A Heartless Kaam-Se-Matlab-Rakho World!

They took away twitter and gmail from me. Now I feel like someone tethered me to my work and confined me behind the bars of the thoughts of my broken heart and my lost love! Why doesn't the world understand?

Miles to go before I do

Flickering candle in the distance
Keep me walking strong
Let the cold feet crossing miles beside me
Trick me into feeling warm

For the aisle is too long and lonely
And we stand at opposite ends
And crossing the distance’s worth breaking my heart
But the return alone would never end

Flickering candle in the distance
Please help me to know
If we do belong together
Then help me to not let go

For the aisle is too long and lonely
And some things old haunt some things new
And fears and blames, some earned, some borrowed
Make our love feel something blue

Flickering candle in the distance
Let my heart be deceived
That forever awaits my leap of faith
Let my stumbling feet believe

For the aisle is too long and lonely
And it’s just too dark a night
And I can’t see our promises make it all the way
Cos we’re no more black and white

Solitaire

Their hearts came together
And they called it home
He was her king
And he crowned her his queen
And she’d rule over his heart for evermore...


A distant diamond
Merrily twinkled its promise
Of a resplendent future
To be branded someday into her finger

And room was made
For the numbers they’d create
And they smiled their way from one room to another
And forgot their way
To their home together
More space needed, more rooms needed
Away from each other

Her jacks and her jokers haunted him
And they screamed at her through the dark bloody walls
And he chose the aces of the tinsel strewn places
And lay delirious in empty holes
All the clubs in the world weren’t enough
To go as far as he wished to
And yet stay as close as he ought to


She shovelled at his love lying peacefully in its grave
And invoked the ghosts of all his promises
And they hovered and swooped upon him until he hid
Away from them, away from her,
Away from her spade soaked afresh in her blood
And finally the tomb gave way
Revealing the remains of his love
Eaten by maggots, cold in decay

The roof tore apart, the walls collapsed
The throne beneath her crumbled to the ground
He shut his eyes to the blinding diamond
He escaped the burden of the falling castle
She stayed
And watched broken dreams tumble upon her
She sunk beneath the beautiful debris
She painfully breathed the last of her love
As her heart welcomed the pierce of the shards
And she lay there buried alive
Beneath their fallen house of cards

"Abbe, coffee maangi thi, kheer nahi!!!"

I struggle again today. I Shudder. I Stop. I Struggle Again. How much I struggle to empty the taste of morning, quickly getting stale and cold in my cup.

Every morning, the kabhi shehed shehed of my office (no! not in a romantic way! not in the least!), brings me a cup of "Good Morning Puja! Ye aapke liye. Na nahi karne ka. Khaas aapke liye banaake laaya." (Still not a blossoming romance, you pretend cynics, greedily waiting to lap up the first signs of a love story!)

The glass full of kesar milk I had, before leaving home, churns my insides. I look at his hopeful smile. Oh For Pete's sake, you buggers! I am like his daughter and there is definitely no cheeni kum in my coffee! Let me get on with the so-not-a-love-story! So....back to his INNOCENTLY hopeful smile. I look at the tray in his hands. My taste buds wince at the anticipation of the sweetness, as I take a cup and thank him with a smile.

With each painstaking gulp of morning (inching towards noon), I pat my own back for being such a kind person. After all, the kabhi shehed shehed of my office brings me a cup full of morning every day, and I take it. Knowing I am going to hate it, I gulp, just to not disappoint that hopeful smile. So nice I am!

As the day wears on, the kabhi neem neem of my office surround me, swoop down on me, pounce on me and demand their work. I find myself scampering around my office, jabbing away frantically at the keyboard, missing lunch more often than not and being pulled into the dreaded katghara for repeated interrogation. He passes by occasionally then, with a joke or two. This is when I admire

that man with his hopeful smile, holding out his ever-welcoming tray to me. I long for those few relaxed moments when my only struggle is to empty a cup of extra sweet morning.

Life humbles you in so many different ways every day! I take back that pat on my back. I need to see that smile every day. I need to struggle through the generous serving of sugar in my cup. I need to feel that I am such a nice person for not breaking his heart. So do a lot of the others here and in every other place.

And so goes he to every table, with the same ready smile, the same coaxing tray, letting every person do him a favour, filling a little extra sugar in every cup to get through the stings of the bland day ahead. I might be a nice person for those two seconds, but that man is a true man of gold.

It's sad! When the whole world is on your case pounding their fists and demanding "What's the story???", that's when I remember and am grateful for my morning glory...Well, there's a last gulp left. Here's a toast - to My Morning Glory! Who is yours?

Hourglass Martyr

Prelude:
Her tragic pout
pointed
at the Heavens accusingly
She was heavy with grief


Sorrow clung to her bubble
Vain sorrow
like drops hanging
from a cloud aching to rain
Heavier


Her grief got heavier
'Leave, you!' she cried
A few grains slipped away
Obediently


The grains were weighed down obediently
'You, you, all of you
None wants to stay by my side!
Think I don't know?'
She menaced them
through gritted teeth
and tore at her tragic bouffant..


'Flee, flee away from me!'
screamed she
'Don't stay;
Why would you?
Nothing in my world,
Nothing, yes nothing!'
Her outstretched palm
clearing the space for nothing
Obediently


Nothing dawned obediently
'Its EMPTY EMPTY EMPTY!'
she finished,
pout accusing the Heavens
Obediently.
Outstretched palm
casting out the last of the grains..


Poem:
She peered
sadly
at the sand below
miles below her

'Alas!' she sighs 'The glass,
is always fuller on the other side..'

Unrequited Love

It takes all I have and yet isn't mine, has never been and will never be. It demands that all my senses be devoted to it completely and yet eludes me. It demands my best front but projects my worst front before the others; and with the right to do so. It is my thorn and yet the only one for me; but it is the nectar to many other bees.

Writing definitely is my true but unrequited love. And now the pain of a lover makes sense and isn't too dramatic for real life.

They are fools who think love takes responsibility, commitment and the ability to sustain in the face of reality. Love takes much more than that.
It takes madness! Yes! Madness! Ask someone who truly loves and neither rationalizes nor is afraid of what it takes.

Ask someone who knows no other way but to give his all, whether or not he heals every time he is wounded. Writing, I find no solace in return of your slavery and yet in only your slavery lies my solace...And so goes love..

SAC-RO-SANCT - /ˈsakrōˌsaNG(k)t/ : too important or valued to be interfered with!

"The meeting is Sacrosanct!" "Yes Ma'am! We are extremely sorry." The apologies streamed as if by rote. The word Sacrosanct hung like a heavy lazy cloud on their dazed minds. They filed out of the (sacrosanct!) meeting, that didn't end up happening.

Ah! Lets just scamper back quietly and sink behind the horizon of our computers. Nope? Not yet? Another morally offended face to deal with coming our way? okay...fine... "Yes? Where were you? Guys, this meeting is sacrosanct!" SACROSANCT? Again? OH GOOD HEAVENS! What have we done? Why do we feel like we might have committed some contemporary of demolishing a mosque? SACROSANCT! what a word!
We have disobeyed SACROSANCT. The sound of that word perches atop their neck and weighs them down, until they can look no higher than their toes. It follows them like grim punishment following sin.
"You guys missed the meeting? But this meeting is..." 'Wait for it!' "SACROSANCT! This meeting is Sacrosanct."

Again? By now they are dragging their feet back to their desks, like bulls ploughing a field. Then someone occasionally tightens the yoke and cracks the whip on them - SACROSANCT; and their backs hunch a little further and they scurry a bit faster towards the first available computer, like mice towards their hole.

Three writers sit before GOOGLE and direly pray for their turmoil to be answered. 'What is the meaning of Sacrosanct?' For shame! Guys, commenting on this post is SACROSANCT btw!