Us

Can’t bear the pain…don’t come back.



Time is of no essence. Minutes tick by, the breathing does not even out. The pit of the stomach is like a snake-pit…with curling and uncurling vipers hissing their anger and despair. I do not know how to live without you. Please don’t come back. Please come back. Please don’t call. Please call.


When romance blooms, it is the most beautiful of emotions. We give so much importance to every aspect of the relationship. Can’t breathe without you. How? Why? Why this change? You call 30 times a day…and talk 20 minutes each. If he does not call, you do. Over-familiarity? I don’t know. The experts may know what they are talking of…but the rush of adrenalin from the heels upwards does not recognize this. I wait. So do you. Little things make everything beautiful. Like staying awake till 2 and talking…long back.


He created picture perfect memories for me. Candles, chocolates, creative gifts, carefully chosen books...no no…none of these…He made a perfect “C” out of me. Somewhere along this path, we changed. Other things crowded in “Us”…and we allowed them to. Priorities became choices and then secondary choices. I became one of those too.


There is nothing worse than a relationship dying. It sinks ill…gradually.Greys...starts rotting in a corner of the mind and struggles to emerge into open conversation. It chokes the life out of life. Ours did not die that way.


How would you like to get a phone call from a woman who claims to be his wife? How would you like to explain to her that you were nothing to him? That he valued you less than a chance-encounter-prostitute? That every word was a testimonial to how low truth can get? That there never really was an Us.


I don’t know anything. Except that I’m an ass.To trust. To believe. To pray .To walk for miles to ask for you to be mine…barefoot. I called you mannat. A woman who casually prays once in a while became a religious freak. You name it, I’ve done it. Fasts? Gurudwara Chaliyas? Hail Mary’s? Every temple, church, gurudwara for miles and miles…I laugh as I write this. My gut twists. Again?? How many times in a day is it supposed to do this? Intense, shooting pains in the stomach-pit. No tears…something is so frozen…I shiver and can’t get warm whatever I do.


Love laughs at me, again. Two years of hopeless realization that no other man matches up-you call again. And the snakes start uncurling again. They stretch lazily and create a wonderful web for me…your words. Desperate hope rears its head. Maybe…just once…you’ll value what is being given…my heart. It’s just Baba…playing “Temp-Temp” with me.


You toss it around. Experiment. All the while checking to see if it fits an imaginary bill. It does not. Why? I don’t know. All I know is that I pledged my life behind a voice that sweetly said “Trust me “and “Soon” and “Soonest”. I do. The web pulls tight. Tighter. Until practicality hangs dead. Reason blacks out. No answer to simple questions. I need you to stand…once next to me. Just once. In a crazy situation,taunted…sneered at for believing in you…I beg you..to once reach out and claim that I belong to you.


Fine honed and raw,with years of practice behind you,you use the one weapon that you knew would work for you.Silence. Silence…killing…neither conveying a yes…nor a no.Just grating on tender nerves.


Did you look at what you held in your hand then?


Lazily…with a flick of a cruel wrist, you release what you hold in your fist… the fine spun glass ball of my heart one last time. It spins crazily, hungrily for more space…for you to reach out… and then speeds down…just when your hand should’ve caught it back, safe; you fold your hands and watch. Silently. Time stands still too. The ball hits the cold, granite floor of reason. And splits into a thousand smithereens that smash back into where they originated from.Me.The silence.Always your silence.Always…


The heart-cavity takes one look at the tiny-screaming-still-alive pieces and curls up in shock. Twice? In one lifetime? The other systems reel and murmur pain and “you-deserved-this-you-bitch” like sarcastic relatives. And laugh, hysterically, as I stare in quiet shock. I look at the shining, jagged bits and in a daze, touch one of the broken, pulsating pieces on the floor. I reel; such is the raw, “someone-peeling-your-skin” pain. There are no tears. None.

Chaand,Shafaq aur...Main

Rain andheri jaag rahein hain
Chaand,shafaq aur main
Gaaon se kyunkar bhaag rahe hain
Chaand,shafaq aur…main
Koi nahi hai Manzil apni
Jit din dhaleya,rain baseri
Dard ko kandha dete din bhar
Chaand, shafaq aur...main
Ek hi din ka khel tha sara
Tum kya jeete, main kya haara
Bas andhiyara samet chale hain…
Chaand, Shafaq aur…main
Haste hain hum,seene par hum
Kitna bojh liye chalte hain
Dard ye apna kisko dikhayen
Chaand, Shafaq aur…main
Wo Ab mere paas nahi hai
Mudkar wapaas aa jaayega,nahi yaqi hain..
Mera bikhra sapna ro-ro Dhoond chuke hain
Chaand,Shafaq aur…main

Maid Mutterings...

I do not have the swagger of a sexy city girl
Or the sideways slant of housewives who have three hips on a roll
I plonk me down and eat …and have bloody aching feet
The salsa and rumbas can just go and take a beat.
My days are total tiring and my nights are half awake
Im taking loads of cr** sab se and cannot think straight
I’m doing loads of work and then homework for my son.
Most days ,little sister,I don’t sleep till one.
A “Little Black Dress”? My butts is too big.
Whats more coz I am tired,I just eat like a pig!
I run from morn till night just to make ends meet…
The “Be a lady” articles just gotta stop their bleat!
My man is just a pea-cock, doing minimal again
You tell him something’s needed and you’ll get a helpless stare.
He’ll just stare at you as if, you’re sprouting curly hair
You’re just being difficult if you tell him its not fair
I don’t know why we women have these backbones made of grit.
I don’t know why we can’t throw back,this goddammed dirty s***
Why we take so much of BS from our husband’s and our son’s
Why we do not kick their backsides when they pull these dirty ones!

Samsara Diaries-1

The heart builds,with tenuous threads,dreams.
The golden light of day,like a golden knife,cuts and cleaves.
Clean and crisp,bleeding,what is left? Reality.
I do not want,nor understand why...it is necessary to break.
You know the logic Lord...of sticking to unsweet truth.
Today,for once,teach me why...

Choo Gaya

Choo gaya Ishq tera…Haath tere….Honth tere
Yu guzar jaayenge sapnon se ye socha to na tha
Tu kahin aur kahin aur kahin main honge
Ek Lamhe Ko bhi aisa kabhi socha to na tha.
Ek hasi shaam ko kaandhe ka sahara dekar
Saari shaamon ko badal doge meri
Jab talak aankh khulegi ,nazar aaoge nahi
Uth ke chal dogeyunhi… ye kabhi socha to na tha…

I

I.Look. Notice.Every movement. Modern? Sometimes! Traditional…Hmmm…sometimes! Quirky? Strong…yet malleable? I go beyond fashion. I define exquisite. Artful.Unique.
Sunlight filters through the leaves and ripples on my skin.You stand ,awed by the tinkle of bangle against bangle.You hear the buzz long before it envelops you. Stunning ear-drops…made of tiny dreams strung together. They send a sting through your senses,everytime I move. In the jewellery that I grace, I transcend Time.
And why not? Every woman, needs to ride this power. Sometimes:)

Woman.And Gold.

Tinkling laughter canned in a bottle. The flutter of a fan in a beautiful hand adorned with rings. Flashing eyes lined with desire. And kohl. Effervescence. Look down and then…sideways. Coquettish or not.
Woman slowly turning into girl.Or vice versa.Moments captured in tiny glass capsules…breaking up into myriad rainbow colored memories. A thousand questions. One single answer. Woman.
You enter a room and the world slows down. The buzz sizzles and burns…intense. Men take calming breaths. Women hiss and then smile…through their teeth. The mercury breaks through the glass.
Tiny ears. Large Eyes. Large ears. Tiny eyes. Draupadi or Manthara. I have adorned both. I have lived in history and have given birth to today. The desire for gold. Lives forever.

B C

I drool. I can see it this close to me.
I see your hand branch out and then become one,juicy whole. Silently,you pick your victim.This girl who is swaying with every movement of the bus,is actually a no-looker.But oooh! Do you care? You look at the opportunity.

So do I.

You move furtively closer. The girl unconcernededly stands looking out,at passing buses and rushing scenes.She is almost within touching distance.The bus gives a lurch and you “accidently” let go of the rod above and slide your weight onto the girl.

There is utter bliss on your face. The girl beneath you is struggling, furious and red in the face. You’re making strangled noises and no move to do anything.I silently move into the space behind you and pull out an inch long round object. A flick of a practiced finger and the inch long round object puffs up and becomes golf-sized ball.

It has feet. And teeth.

I bend down under the pretext of helping the girl.And fix the round ball to the seat of your pants. Its clever.It uses its feet to move to the softest part of your butt. It opens its mouth. It bites.

Its 320 minute teeth fitted with sharp needle like pins with twist-shut circular mechanism have zeroed in and locked itself onto two inch radius of butt-meat. You experience excruciating pain and then faint. No one around you cares as the girl has pushed you aside and is rearranging her tee. The pincers move anti-clockwise. The chunk of butt-meat and covering trouser-bit disappear into a special spill-proof sac inside the “buttcutter”. It dislodges itself and falls off the “bad-man’s” butt.
Its inbuilt sensor and compass tells it-“North East”.It quietly rolls thataway and stops. Which is where I’m standing.I casually bend down,pick it up and shove it into my pocket.
And get off the bus.
As I walk home,a stray,which has watched me alight,follows me.I take a turn,unscrew the Buttcutter and let the round pieceomeat fall down.The stray jumps and out of habit,gulps it in one shot.

No chew.No Sweat. No evidence.

Only another story in the evening news about how this is the 4th incident of a dazed man being brought to hospital with no clue about why his bum has a 2 inch wide hole.

Reaching home,I wash my face. And the BC…as I fondly call it.

You see, I do NOT like being pawed.

Talaash

Badan ki taak pe rakha hai teri nazron ko
Kho gaya ik nazar mein,kaise kahein ab mera…
Ho gaya ek zehan ka maalik ye
Chod kar mere dil ki nagari ko

Jadoo ki kahani aati hai
Pariyon si jawaani aati hai
Is Alhad chanchal ladki ko
Har cheez churani aati hai

Ik Dil,Ik Jaan,Mera Ghar,Aasmaan
Meri barf si qaid jawaani bhi
Le gayi,Le gayi ,baaqi na bachi
Meri koi puraani nishani bhi

Ab naam pata,kuch hosh nahi
Bas uske dar ka pata hai mujhe…
Hassta chehra…khushboo mein basi….
Kya tumne bhi dekha hai use?

Phir Se!

Thoda thoda dard bacha tha,phir se tum muskaye kyun?
Phirse jeena seekh rahi thi,tum phir se paas aaye kyun?
Mujhe pata main kathputli hoon,mann pathar mein badal diya,
Pathar mein phir pran phoonkne… phir se khel rachaye kyun?

Ek baar tum tod chuke ho,mann ki partein khol chuke ho
Seedhi sachi choti si ye baat samajh na aaye kyun?
Kyun aatur mann tumhe dekhne,kar bechaare kayin bahaane
Raah mein teri bicchh jaata hai…chot maangta hi rehta hai?

Dhoop ko,baarish ki boondon ko taras gayi thi
Bas khidki se jeevan behta dekh rahi thi,bandhi hui thi…
Ab jab jaana,peeche mudkar aankhen geeli mat kar lena!
Sab Natak hai! Peeche mud kar phir se waapas mat aajaana…

Sirf naam ko,saath khade hone ke liye , mat aana tum…
Naye mitr , kuch choti khushiyan-main jee loongi jee bhar kar!
Nayi kahani ban jayegi,naye paatr main gadh loongi ji
Indradhanush ke rangon se main phir bhar loongi apna ghar!

Hasratein...

Subah ke saaye nazar se pighle
Tumhari chaahat mein ghul gaye hum

Wo unchhuaa sa… labon ka jadoo
Wo cheeni mitti si meri hasrat
Na jaane kaisa tha rang tera…
Na jaane kaisa tha roop mera
Kahin juda se nahi the hum-tum…

Nazar mein bhar lo mujhe, bujha do...
Hawa me udte tamaam jugnu.

Main tujh me lipti…bujhi hui si
Dhooen ki chaadar phisal rahi hai
Subah ke saaye…hamari chaahat
Na jaane kaise pighal rahe hai…

Yunhi

Yunhi kabhi main mili thi tumse...
Yunhi tumhari hassi ne mere ajeeb dil ko rula diya tha.
Koi wajah thi ki tum mein meri nazar ka kona attuck gaya tha?

Main uth rahi thi…chale gaye tum
Na jaane Main kyun zameen se chipki…tumhare jaane ko dekhte thi?
Kyun mann ne chaha hazaar chup-si pukaar dekar tumhe bulana?

Nahi mile phir…wo akhari tha hamara milna.

Agar kabhi tum miloge mujhse to sach kahoongi...
Hazaar lamhe guzar chuke hain
Hazaar sadiyan bikhar gayeen hain
Magar wo alhad ajeeb ladki…wahin khadi hai

Na jaagti hai…na poochti hai…na sochti hai…na maangti hai
Koi zaroorat…na koi khwahish…na koi mannat…na muskurahat.

Wo chup-si ladki wahin khadi hai
.