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I dipped my feet in the holy Ganges - and let a part of you go away - for you were my only sin

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I've walked on the eggshells for a decade. I have been choked so hard that I have collapsed many times, but not hard enough to kill me once and for all. At this point, I wish it happened. I wish I was dead rather than bearing the seething pain of not living a normal life. Life has taken my ability to form any relationship. Today, I let you go away. Barely a couple of months after tasting the real happiness. You know we are all fragile. Most of us should be handled with care. However, some like me warrant special treatment. Like a war-savaged artwork, people like me should be admired and loved from far away. We are too fragile to be held in arms. We tend to collapse. Then the saddest part is people who hold us are blamed to break us. Little do they know, we are a lost cause from the very beginning. We are unrepairable and unworthy of love. After saying the last goodbye, I went to my happy place. I filled the bathtub. I sat in it. I couldn't picture us in the bathtub listening to

Rewind - August 2021

I came back from a 10-day trip yesterday. I met my family and friends after 2 years and 4 months. Yes, I counted. COVID-19 has changed the world. My travel was affected too. There were many forms and declarations to be filed, mandatory tests before flying and strict protocols at the airport and on flights. The trip was great. I had the best time in New York. However, it was life-altering. It gave me a new perspective on life. I met my 1-year nephew for the first time. He is a very social child. He came running to me and hugged me. He hugs everyone - that child knows no stranger-danger funda! But a child's hug is beautiful and out-of-this-world. I don't want to mention the details of whats and whys but this trip has changed me. It has made me more focused and goal-oriented. Hopefully, better things will happen because of all I've experienced in the last 10 days. And here's what I wrote in the month of August: Date Published 08/10/2021 भगवान करे ऐसा सैलाब आए  तुम्हने जो ग

Rewind - July 2021

 I think this is the only time in the last 10 years that I’m barely writing. Hopefully, my schedule and habits change in near future. I wrote the following in July. Date Published 07/03/2021 आज आपने 4 आँसूं क्या बहाए सतलुज सा उफान मेरे दिल में भी उठा 07/05/2021 सीने में दर्द आँखों में नमी इस भीड़ सी दुनिया में सिर्फ़ तेरी कमी 07/07/2021 मीलों का सफ़र और लाखों उतार-चढ़ाव विशाल समन्दर हैरान हैं कि फिर भी नदी इतना इतराती क्यूँ है  07/12/2021 हार जाते तुम से लाखों बार मुझसे एक बार हक़ जता के लड़ते तो सही 07/15/2021 Have the courage to look in the eye of the storm and say, ‘I’m the fucking hurricane.’ 07/15/2021 किस बात पे इतना इतराते हो तुम चोट खुद देते हो और फिर गले लगाते हो तुम 07/20/2021 Summer is a season of love. If you will, fall in love with yourself. 07/20/2021 ज़िन्दगी रोडवेज की बस है  सवारी अपनी भावनाओं की खुद जिम्मेदार है

Poets are phoenixes and poems are butterflies

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There is a perpetual sadness that resides in the deep recesses of poets' hearts. Like a landmine, it explodes when someone walks on it. The anguish and destruction are enough to damage them all over again. And yet like a Phoenix they rise. Smeared in the ashes of only one mistake - why did they let anyone enter their lives knowing too well it will be catastrophic? But then poets are humans. Humans need love above anything else. If  Maslow's  Law of  Hierarchy  wer e to be written again, poets would start from the middle. The need for love is greater than the need for food for them. It has always been like that. It will always be like that. Because poets can live without food for a week. Without love, they will perish into oblivion. They like the volcanic eruption of love - grand gestures when their lovers express love, wild and long orgasms on the bed and the subsequent ocean of pain in which they eventually drown. Poets, of all people, celebrate love in all its forms. The soft

Rewind - June 2021

 I thought I would write more. Basically, I’d have more free time for the creative juices to flow. And boy, was I wrong? I hope in the coming months, I get better with time management and can write more. I wrote these and some proses in the month of June. Date Published 06/11/2021 उफ़्फ़ ये तुम्हारा दफ़्तर से देर से आना और मेरे सुलगते अरमानो को थोड़ा और सुलगाना 06/16/2021 मचल रही है उँगलियाँ  तेरे मेरे जिस्म पे थोड़ा कोहराम हो  इन चादर की सिलवटों पे  थोड़े हम भी बदनाम हो 06/19/2021 दिन और रात का होश नहीं ना तारीखों का हिसाब रहता है जब इश्क़ में किसी का  दिमाग़ ख़राब रहता है  06/20/2021 इस इश्क़ में सब कुछ तेरा-मेरा है बस नाराज़ होने का हक़ सिर्फ मेरा है 06/21/2021 It’s beautiful to find someone who can undress you with his words and can reach your soul with a soft brush of his fingers.

You are the sukoon I've been longing for all my life

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You don't evoke poetry in me. You don't give me the highs the wild lover inside of me crave. You do nothing to unleash the dirty side of a woman in bed. And yet every morning I desire no one else by my side but you. Every morning I think of your gentle words. They fall on the curves of my body and caress my parched soul. My half-opened eyes search for you in my empty bedroom. Maybe if I close them one more time with total devotion you will miraculously appear. And you will kiss me gently on my cheek. I will live a million lives in that single moment when your lips will touch the right cheek - I often think. I look at my phone and think of calling you. Perhaps one day I will. Perhaps one day the fucked up woman inside me will give up -- and -- the girl who has seen you transform into a man from a boy will win. I will dial your number which I remember by heart. I will ask you to take me away to a far-off wonderland where I will be me and you will be mine. I am waiting for that da

I am heartbroken over our failure as a couple

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I asked you to love me. Nothing else. Just love. I didn't desire marriage. I am miles away from the glitter of the designer trousseau, lavish weddings and rituals are suffocating for me. I didn't want a house, money or child from you. I've learnt this by a bad stroke of luck that as a woman I am capable of having all of them on my own. I can build a house and make it home. I can earn, invest and splurge money. I can have and raise a child as a single mother. Don't get me wrong, I am capable of loving myself as well. But I desired love. I wanted to lie on your shoulders as the paisley curtains blew in the cool summer breeze. I wanted to look into nothingness as we listened to Masoom songs on loop. I wanted to gently kiss you on the neck while you were getting ready for the gym. I wanted to share silence with you after our aggressive fight over politics. I wanted to share the lows of my life while I sulked in your lap. I wanted to sit on the carpet and read a book while y