Burdens of being a child


Ma tells stories of her days gone by
Running through fields, chasing butterflies

When school was but a place to learn
And evenings were meant for memories to earn

When Playing in the mud Was a quality endowed
And nicks and scraps were trophies to be proud

Cycle tyres were hotwheel cars to be raced with friends
And school bag was but a tiffin with yummy homemade snack and a slate


Perched on her lap, these fairytales I hear

I run too but not through fields and butterflies they say are extinct

I race against time with my bonnie eight year old feet
So that all my competition I can  defeat

School is not just a place to learn
But a little factory for me , into perfect citizen turn

Smart class, robotics, e-learning and cyborg – my memories make
Child safe playground and sanitised sandpits give wounds a little fake

Ride to school in ac buses take effort to stay awake
And the weight of knowledge stuffed in my bag lets my backbone break

Chained to my desk I watch the birds take flight


Silence in the room

while your eyes argue vehemently

Someone mute my thoughts

It is my heart that gets ripped apart


Have you seen SIN walk into the room
He smells of spice and desire.

He walks like the lion on the prowl
Greek God looking down from his pedestal

His eyes burst into laughter while his lips don’t curve
Passion dances in those dark pools

His fingers weave stories on my back on moonless lonely nights
While his breath strum a symphony from my hair spread on his chest

His lips whisper decadence as i lie satiated in his arms

Have you seen SIN walk into the room
He smells of spice and desire.

Futility of Life

We walked down the road hand in hand
Life was a poetry to be lived
We got talking about us – our dreams, our fears and our wishes.

The warmth of your palms melted years of resistance around my heart
When we believed the heat of love will never dim,
The blizzard of life hit us.

With renewed resolve we still held hands
We walked through the storm,
To the garden of spring on the other side.

The colours brought vibrance and pride that we made it.
I looked at you, expecting a happy reflection of me in your eyes.

You still held my hands albeit it was frozen.
The warmth in my heart failed to thaw it.
Your cold glance seared a tattoo through my skin

Somewhere on the journey called life
That we walked together
I lost you to the cold.

The Inside Story

Being a mother of two boys and at present working with 30 deranged middle-aged men, I consider myself a kind of authority of how the male psyche works. I know enough has been researched and written about the silly species called the MAN but this is my list of the QUIRKY MAN.

  1. Can someone please tell the MAN, that boxers are NOT (R) NOT shorts. I do realize that boxers keeps the family jewel cool but seriously guys when in public you need to wear a thing called shorts over it. And if you decide to exhibit your fitness and go for a run, believe me the checkered or superman boxers that flutter with every sway of your butt is a strict no.
  2. Why is asking for help so difficult? Dude you have had a drink too many. You are a risk to yourself and others. It is ok to ask for help. You are not able to open the lid to the container. Please don’t break the bottle. Ask for help.
  3. Chewing nicotine gum the entire day just makes you look like a cow. It is not going to detox you from the effects of constant smoking, even if you roll your own cigarette.
  4. We women can keep holding placards for equality but honey equality sounds good only when we women venture into male territory. At the cost of sounding sexist, men applying sunscreen every hour, waxing their hands and legs, wearing skin tight clothes accentuating their well-endowed (pun intended) body, wearing skimpy shorts over stick figure legs is a strict no-no.
  5. Ghosts and evil spirits are figment of our imagination. A man touching 40, sleeping with his lights on because his wife isn’t there to protect him is such a put down.
  6. Gadgets and technology does not a man make. Sitting with the laptop open in front of you the entire day without you typing a single word or spitting out big techie words doesn’t endear you to anyone. Believe me a woman cannot be impressed with what she doesn’t understand.
  7. Look into a woman’s eyes when you speak with her. Nothing impresses her more. Way to her heart is through her eyes and not 6 inches below.
  8. Are men given special classes in school which tells them to run away from emotions? Why do you make woman work so hard that she spends her entire life struggling to understand your yes and no which are normally used incorrectly and interchangeably.
  9. Clarity of thought is an aphrodisiac. We may nod and make encouraging noises in a conversation but believe me when I say that we are desperately waiting for you to get to the point. We may not pretend to be as busy as you are, but being multi tasking goddesses we already have hundred things playing ping pong in our heads. We really don’t want your mindless rumbling adding on to it.
  10. Women have the same sexuality like men. It is ok to crack the so called sexually laced jokes in front of them. If a lady takes offence, she is just pretending.
  11. Tattoos are personal, if we need to flaunt them we would put them in places where everybody can see them. It is not ‘gentlemanly’ to search for the hidden ones and give exclamatory comments on them too !!! (no pun intended).
  12. Well toned body is a definite turn on but obsession to the gym is not. If you choose the gym over a date with a pretty lady, my friend you have wasted the calories you just burnt.

The Oomph of the Bra

Indian women are all born with this Obsessive Compulsive Disorder of straightening their bra strap all the while. They can flaunt their polished backs and heaving boobs and yet a thin black strap showing makes them the so called “vulnerable and potential targets to indecent men”. Seriously, I mean how different is a bra from a man’s undies. Isn’t it just a support system to the female anatomy?

Another ridiculous invention is the plastic strap bras. It is ok for the so called transparent straps to show. Do we honestly think that a man cannot imagine what is underneath, if a plastic shows. Or probably we are just counting on the denseness of a male brain which normally cannot figure out anything without an instruction manual. I was at a swanky pub last night. There was this hot girl wearing a little black strapless dress and she totally ruined it with the transparent bra. It looked like she was a younger nubile version of Prem Nath from the movie Bobby sporting suspender belts to keep her dress in place. Girls get a pair of strapless bra or sticks ons for heavens sakes.

I first got initiated to this “World of Bra” when I was 14. (ok alright. I was a late bloomer.). I had no clue what I was getting into. White Jockey sports bra, was the safest, modest bet. They are akin to bloomer panties for little girls. I honestly feel sports bra is another unfortunate creation. It should be banned from anywhere other than the gym or sports ground. It flattens, traps, jails these God given assets, making them look like someone sporting man boobs. Why are we always hell bent on desexualizing women?

Then came a phase of covering those little pimple sized growth on my chest with cotton granny bras. In hindsight I feel the government should pass a bill to “ de cottonise” bras along with demonetization of currency. They are totally unfeminine, unattractive, unflattering pieces of cotton available in “white, black or skin color” sold by bra wale bhaiyajis in hosiery shops. An average Indian woman invests in a good, sexy pair of bra for the first time, prior to her wedding. Normally most often than not, assisted by a raunchy aunty or an older cousin. It is as if you cannot go on a honeymoon without those laces and in that too there will be some well-meaning lady from the bride’s side busy shoving the strap showing from the choli all through the wedding ceremony.
I read somewhere that when a man seduces a woman and finds her wearing sexy underclothes, he must remember that it is she who initiated the seduction. I tend to disagree. A sexy bra, laces, padded, underwired, balconette whatever it may be, gives a woman pride in her body. It shows that she loves what she is, not just how people see her.
“Bra Burning” is a term used by feminists around the world. Whatever it may mean in the feminist dictionary, the literal meaning of the word would give me a heart attack. I can never imagine letting go of my bright, vibrant, lacy, varied lingerie collection ever. They say, when a woman dies, according to Hindu rituals, they dress her like a bride to her final journey. I wouldn’t care if they dressed me in rags when I die but I do hope they put me in my best pair of underclothes so that I enter the gates of Hell in my confident best, head held high.