Words

I slipped back into my lingerie, But I couldn’t feel your touch. Devoid of any pleasure, I still loved you very much. The cocoon I lived in, Stunted my growth and flight. I was living in a well-lit bungalow, But my happiness never saw any daylight. There were days I was absolutely naked, Still, why didn’t they see my scars? I bet they got blinded, By sparkly diamonds and swanky cars. I smiled all the time, I cracked the best of jokes. I camouflaged pain so meticulously, No one noticed the embers behind the smoke. I burned, I turned into a heap of ash. I sprayed Chanel No. 5, Though I was treated like a can of trash. You knew what wrong you did, Still, you never apologized. All I was a glorified maid, I now realize. Neither your body nor your love, Nothing was ever mine. Yet I treated a dead relation, Like a holy shrine. I’m glad you gave me nothing, Neither on the bed or otherwise. I’m gasping for sanity no...

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When I say life is beautiful - I don't say as some philosophical statement. Currently, I have all the conceivable problems one can think of - I have court cases, I have a medical condition for which I need major surgery and I've been delaying it for 8 years now, I have no job, no roof which I can call my own, I have standing expenses of $500 which are totally unproductive but I have to do it, and the worst, I have so many unresolved issues in my head. But still, life is beautiful. When I say you're responsible for your life - I don't say it to give some random motivational speech. I mean it. Take it from a woman who after a phone call from her in-laws has gone to the market alone to buy shroud to wrap her husband's body - the kind of strength and peace of mind you get after fulfilling your duties empowers you from within. If you can do things for others, imagine the joy of doing things for yourself. Before someone asks where are my family and friends? It...

I rekindled my love for music in October. I'm an insomanic and music is the best company at 2 in the night. I'm alone, heartbroken and at crossroads in life - now imagine the intensity with which I listen to it. But let me brag first - I listen to music with the kind of sincerity and devotion that may surprise you - and I'm very proud of it. If you will give me a song, I will give you an exact scenario which suits it. No, I don't do - this is a shower song, this is a long-drive song thing - that's amateurish. I do - this is a song I would listen when I'm back from a date, removing my makeup, getting ready for the shower, and humming it like an anthem. Believe me, this is the simplest of scenarios I'm presenting here. My descriptions become more vivid, dirtier and fun. Those who have heard my descriptions would smile if they are reading this post. But this post is not about that. This post is about a song which is poetry in every sense of the word. ...

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...

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 ...

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