Showing posts from January, 2019

Of Wild Sex, Poetry, And Man I Call My Ocean

Those half-stoned eyes, Rough hands feeling up my breast. Your breath stinking of cheap liquor, I should have left. Man, why did I stay? There must be some spell on me. I was a ruin myself, Searching for love in debris. That cheap motel was not comforting either, Nor was the sheet smooth. I even felt bumps on the mattress, When our bodies rhythmically moved. You rested your head on my stomach later, Asked me to read a poem for you. You are a man with 20 dollar jeans, Who calls quickie a rendezvous. I don't know who should I blame? But it is more than lust. You listen to my worthless poetry, And I'm the only woman you trust. Don't read too much between lines, you say, Don't call us broken. I'm the river which flows into you, And you are my ocean. Man, why shouldn't I stay? You fill up the emptiness in me. With you, I'm a scintillating mess, With you, I'm free. *Poetic expression a

Main aur karamjali mombattiyan

I want to share my dukh-bhari story. Let me begin by saying I live in a weird household. Nobody smokes in our family but we have a lighter in the house. Everybody loves candles but no one ever thought of buying a candle lighter. As we all know I do soak-up-my-melancholy-in-t he-bathtub wala crap very often. I thought of lighting candles to create a poetic ambience. I mean I was all set. Bas 2-4 Gul zar Sahab level wali shayari pakki thi. Par luck ne saath aaj tak nahi diya, to kal kyun chamatkar hota? I spent, beep-beep-beep, 10 minutes but no, I couldn’t produce one tiny spark from that lighter. That time mujhe maachis aur maachis wali poetry ki badi yaad aayi. Yeh wali - तुम माचिस की डिबिया पे अपना नाम लिख दो, कम्बख़त बिन जले ही आग लगा देगी! Seriously, never underestimate the power of maachis or the usefulness of a guy who smokes and can light a lighter. Anyway, I did it finally. I was like - you can add fire to words, yeh $8 ki candle kya cheez hai. My stupidity began the moment I