I made a promise to myself
I looked at me  and said, ” BE YOU”
That day on on I could smile more
I could walk with gay abandon
I could laugh my heart out
And people noticed a glow in me
Then came a day,
When people realized I was too merry.
The clouds of threat gathered around them.
They whispered
They commented
They talked amongst themselves
They stood me trial
They prosecuted me
They passed a judgement
They ripped me apart.
While I skipped around ignorant of what they said,
They pulled in everyone who loved me into the murky whirlpool of their opinions.
I was an untouchable for both friends and foes
People who claimed to love me refused to look at me in the eye.
By the time I realised the rolling of eyes behind my back
I had been stripped naked, paraded in public and shamed out of my life.

All because I dared to be me

And today as I sit in a corner
Cuddled up, drowning in my own tears
Punished for being happy

I still am in the hot pursuit of the promise – BE YOU






And then there are those days
When memories wash my heart
Just like the waves washing my foot at the beach

I am me, that I was in the memory

I smile at times I laugh
As I (re)listen to the joke you cracked
I feel the touch, at times I feel the look
As I remember the desire in your eyes

I am the seductress, I am the temptress
As I (re)want you as I did
I am the dreamer, building my castle
As I (re)see the dreams we saw together

I am pensive, I am sad
As I (re)miss you as you go away
I am in tears, I feel dead
As you (re)break my heart into a thousand pieces

And then there are those days
When memories wash my heart
Just like the flames lapping up my body on my pyre.

On the journey to forgetting you

I have a picture of you painted on my heart
It captures you perfectly
The smile that is sunshine
The eyes that look through my soul
Every nick, cut and scar on your face
Has a story you have told me once

The picture in my heart
Shows me all the evenings
I spent in your arms

It brings back all the laughter we shared
And all the tears we cried
It brings your touch on my curves
And makes me feel your skin on my fingertips

And yet there are these days
When the clouds of desperation
Is dark and menacing

The air is thick and I can hardly breathe
When I miss you as I miss my next breathe

A dark smog engulfs me
Suffocates me
I need to walk on
I need to move on in life

I go back to my heart
Just to see your picture
See your smile that can disperse all clouds

How ever much I try I can’t
See those eyes that could
See through my soul

How ever much I try I can’t
Feel the touch, the hug
That gave me strength to carry on

I dive back, I search my soul
The cobwebs on my memory
Are hopelessly cleaned
With desperation I try
And yet the picture I can’t find

Through my struggle I realise
I’m finally on the journey to forgetting you.

The Terminal

There is something splendidly uplifting about spending a night at the airport.
The city roads are silent with only the occasional goons decorating the roads and the occasional cop keeping them company.
But the moment u cross the threshold of the airport, a whole new world opens up.
It is an amalgamation of culture, a melting point of mankind, especially at night wen travelers wait for their next flight.
Diamond clad fingers lie
Iimp at the sides as the fat lady tries to take an uncomfortable nap on the chair.
The coffee machine brewing relentlessly, infusing caffeine into the reprocessed, recycled air of the departure lounge.
Snippets of conversations in all languages provide a subtle entertainment if u can be discreet enough to eavesdrop.
People walk around with trolley. Mother feeding her little one while she herself tries to keep tiredness at bay. Some kids swim in their dreams while lying on the airport floor while others drown themselves in the flashy screens of their tablets. Most seem without purpose and yet all have a destination.
The airline crew and airport staff work as if they have no concern with the path of the sun.
Actually at times I feel the only place where the march of the Sun across the sky doesn’t matter is the airport.
In a life where running towards our own destination means everything, a break at the airport gives you a sort of perspective about the canvas of your life.
You realise you are just a tiny character that GOD, the painter painted.
There is something splendidly uplifting about a night spent at the airport.

The curve of her waist

The curve of her waist has a thousand stories to tell
His tickle had made her double with laughter
His caress had made her scream with passion
He had devoured her when her long hair brushed her waist
The little skin peeping from her sheer sari had made his eyes blaze and heart melt
Her waist arched in abandon everytime he took her with fervour
The day he left, her waist cried a thousand tears
Missing his rough calloused palms on her bare skin
As she waits for his return
The curve of her waist has a thousand stories to tell

Sit back and Enjoy

Have you ever noticed that whatever happens in our lives is always a product of only two things? One is the choices that we make and other is the result of what Destiny dishes out to you.

Your choices are the result of the decisions you have made in life. Every crossroad in life has many pathways that you can tread on. Whether you chose your career over family, or your wife and kid over a parent or the new house over a new car or the boss over the subordinate, are entirely and exclusively your choices. And yet after having made them, we lament the loss of the other. Don’t get me wrong. We all have the right to temporarily exasperate, feel bad, get annoyed and even regret the choices we made, but only temporarily. Instead we inevitability end up feeling sorry for the choices, sorry for life the way it is lived.

And then there is Destiny. Evil destiny, laughing in your face – destiny. Destiny plays with people like pawns on a chessboard. Check mate and you are eliminated. Your partner means the world to you and destiny sweeps in to take her away. You have sacrificed an entire life for your business and one earthquake, you are bankrupt. Again we end up feeling, sorry for the life the way it is lived.

My question is, when it is your choice – impulsive or well thought off (that you have absolute control on) and destiny – evil or good (that you have no control on), that decided the journey of your life, then why CRIB? Why can’t we learn to dance in the rain, rather than struggle with the umbrella that refuses to hold steady in the storm

When it is inevitable, why not just sit back and enjoy it !!!!

The Big ‘C’ Word

I have seen enough people getting the exit pass from this world because of cancer. I have lost a parent to it. I have friends who have lost a parent to or a losing a parent to it.  The Big ‘C’ word. I grew up thinking that cancer is this ultimate romantic disease u can die of. It is a disease where in  u know when u shall leave this world. It is GOD’s way of giving you time to tick your bucket list  and u die with the “Babu Moshai” dialogue on your lips like Rajesh Khanna in the movie Anand

But when I saw my father disintegrate in front of my eyes I could not imagine him singing  “ Zindagi Kaisi hai paheli” on the  beach. For the longest time, my sister and I were scared of using the word as if it was some green eyed monster. We used to call it the ‘C’ word. I have realised one thing about cancer – there are no cancer survivors. All there is , is delayed death. It is like running on the treadmill with a leash round your waist. U may run as fast as u like but someday that leash shall be pulled. Like they sing in the Hotel California song “u can check out any time u like , u can never leave “

When you see your parent suffer- the brave , strong person who taught you everything you know, fade  away in front of you. When someone comes and tells you this is God’s Will, you either feel like bashing them up or GOD  wherever he is. You act brave, not because you carry the gene , but because that is the only defence mechanism you have. When my father fought the losing battle against the dreaded disease, my sister and I used to go about the house as normally as we could yet each morning when we woke up, the question was very evident in our eyes, “Is he breathing?” It may sound very unbecoming for a daughter to say this but at times we were saddened to see his lungs not give up on him because that meant watching him suffer one more day.

No, he never was a burden. Don’t get me wrong. We could have carried on taking care of him forever if that meant having him in our lives forever but to him become a shadow of his former self was heart breaking. He used to call himself the Iron Man and seeing him turning into this delirious, comatose, zombie like being whose eye balls had sunk deep into its socket, broke us all into a million pieces. My sister and I prayed to God for his deserved dignity, we prayed for his release from sufferings.

My sister regrets not being there when he breathed his last. I regret being there when he breathed his last because for me that is the most prominent memory I have of him to account for the 33 years that he was my Hero. What happens after Cancer stakes its claim on its victim? It is like watching yourself and the others you know acting in a play. It probably takes six months to realize that you shall never hear that baritone voice again and that ,there is finality which you never bargained for.

Death has a certain amount of certainty to it. It either breaks you or builds u into the person you are. People have written odes to Death, celebrated death. I feel there is nothing romantic about Death yet it is more welcome if it is sudden. Having Death as a constant in your house is killing in itself. Being able to smell it , feel it and then waiting patiently for it to strike, is a sweet torture. On good days when you see your loved one smiling and talking to you, you taunt Death but on bad days when you see your loved suffering, you feel Death taunting you.

So as a friend of mine advised me when my father was detected of the disease. Be with him as much as you can because that is all that will matter in the end. To all the caregivers out there –  your loved one shall leave this world , all you can do is make that passage as comfortable as possible.