Sunday, December 2, 2012

I often think...

I often think
A lot; not much at times
Still like the lonely bench
On a promenade
Waves lashing over the reclaimed
Land; under the feet of strangers
Making passages of my story
A chapter of silence often,
Memories like the permanent crease
On an earmarked page
Of my life's book
Filled with words
Of banality, ennui, restless
Nights; and days filled with emptiness
Nerve wrecking pauses.
I often walk, or jog these thoughts
To lose them
Move without a map; lose them at a corner
Of an unmarked lane; a shop selling
Trinkets from someone's past
Pawned for another
These buyers unaware.
I sit looking at the face;
Of a jagged valley crisscrossing
 The cracked mirror
Reflection distorted, million pieces
For a path that may be mine A plan.
To reach there
Following with the finger tips
Blinking. Harsh light from a neon bulb
blurring the scars of time.
Things are incomplete
Unclimaxed; without an end to every evening
Maybe if I couldn't think at all.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

...they are boys

So i found place near the door of the train, plugged in my headphone, put a song on loop and tried to forget the various aches i am going through. This old lady sitting besides me gets up, and in a few minutes starts talking.

It starts with its that a phone that works by touching. I did not hear her the first time. So i pulled out one ear piece and tried to listen again. Yes, it is a touch phone. I smile. She goes on about how her daughter-in-law also had one but it did not last for long and it was quite expensive and she had got a new one. I smile and nod.

Another few minutes, my ear piece is back on and another ache is creeping in. She asks me if i work, i nod. Am i married. I shake my head. Am i a single kid. I shake my head and tell her i have 2 younger sisters. Oh she says. No brother? I have plastered the smile on and shake head, no. We are only sisters. So you have to work, she asks. No, i wanted to.
You are like a son to your parents, you are doing a sons job, she adds. (And i try to recollect how many times have i had this same conversation. About not having brothers, parents not having a son, me being my parents son. Do people not realise how annoying it is?)

I keep smiling and shrug.

She tells me how these days daughters are the one who actually take care of their parents. How sons don't care anymore. She has 2 sons herself. She is a widow. None of the sons ask her how she is. If she would want something. Not that she wants anything, she says. But it would feel nice to think someone cares. Cannot argue that now. I smile and nod.

She tells me how she was 6yrs old when she lost her mother. Then was sent off to a boarding school, when she came back to Hyderabad, her father married her off to a drunkard. The husband would beat her. Yell at her. Then she was pregnant with her first son. She came back to her father's place. But then she went back to her husband. She always wanted a daughter. But she had a son again. She got angry at god, told him no more kids. Give to others who are childless. To those women who get called barren.

She tells me don't marry unless you want to. Do not compromise on that. How she had met so many girls who are pressurized by their parents to marry, how they are left with nothing else in their lives. Don't marry if you think you don't ever want to. Make a life for yourself.

[I have gotten my ears pierced again. It is so much easier to be distracted when you are nursing physical pain. The headache from all the anger gets shadowed.]

I did not get to say bye to that old lady. Maybe next time i'll catch the same train and meet her again.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Men, uff.

I have a complicated relation with men which varies from I love them, I love them a lot, oh so much love, stop being annoying love, and get lost. Even though many of the close guy friends doubt me when I check out the fairer sex along with them, I am pretty sure I like men more. Is it due to the fact that I get along with them better or that since I am usually more around men so I get along better with them.

The best friend is a guy and also it was a guy who displaced me from being the first rank holder in class 5. I'll never forget you Rajesh. It was Raj who would tease me crazy with a Jungle book character's name since it rhymes with mine. And the only I love you i ever got to hear was by a guy who I ignored & ran away from since thats what a 10yr old girl would do when an 11yr old cutest guy ever says to you.

And lately its men who are being pricer than the kohinoor who are driving me nuts. It is very difficult to stay unaffected by intelligent, cryptic, emotionally/geographically unavailable men.

They have left me grinning silly at the screens of various monitors, cellphones, opaque windows with their words. Sleepless, wide awake in the middle of the night.

There was this not-too-much-talker who I never talked to what with him being swamped by every pretty girl in college who would make you feel like a total behenji. The BEST bus tickets come with digits which we would add up & then any cute guy who's name would start with alpahabet that it corresponded with was ohhed and aahed about. These brooding kinds are such a hit.

Then there are the charming, will listen to all what you have to say, will send flowers (virtual ones count too), again hit amongst all the ladies around (some of the girls would even be crying in their pillows every night each night), who will be good in everything they do. They read only as prescribed by the government but still seem to know it all. They'll never be serious. And then its someone next for them.

Moving on to them who are all as messy with their emotions as a girl. They get emotional for any girl who tells them their sob story, they'll be nice with everyone, they'll get dumped by their girlfriends for someone else for unknown reasons, and they are much of a sweetheart.

The emotionally unavailable come with dillemmas since they don't seem to be sure or clear what makes them emotionally unavailable. Geography can be worked upon but that takes first place in the "top 10 reasons why I am going to be aloof, stubborn, difficult, ambigious with you". It also lists down "women from the past who were the one and I can't seem to move on" as a very important reason. They'll give you sleepless nights & open eyed nightmares, you'll be pulling your hair in frustation while trying to convince yourself that it might work or might not work out depending on what time of the day you were daydreaming about them. Daytime tend to be optimistic while as the days business (busyness) slips into the plain dark canvas of night you would be on the edge of your bed questioning your sanity.

You see, every last fall makes the next one more easier. To fall gets easier but not when it comes to getting over.


Monday, October 8, 2012

When days take for things to sink in...

Being ambitious is easy when all you do is dream and the next day is back to snoozing the alarm for the nth time so you are late for work for the nth time and for the nth time you decide you’ll change your ways. Or atleast this stands true for me.
Not ever since I remember, but ever since I became aware of the possibility of actually going someplace which wasn’t inside Bombay, I have wanted to travel. It could be any place. In the past few years I have done a lot of travelling (even if it has been confined to Bombay-Pune and around Pune. Or Kanha). And recently it was Turkey. Which I am not going to be tired of telling people about. It is part of a dream coming true. What after 2 people from the group having to cancel their plan at the last minute, 5 visit to the embassy to finally get the visa done, additional miserly behavior to have enough money in the bank to not have to be miserly when we reach Turkey.
I have clearly forgotten the exact route we followed. I remember what I saw – fluffiest, bluest sky ever, cleanest bluest beaches ever, oldest driest ruins of the oldest Greek-Roman times, the Mediterranean from up the sky – paragliding can give you a mighty scare, Cappadokya from up the sky – height matters when some guy might need to pick you and drop inside the balloon’s basket, the clean whitest valleys where falling on your butt is quite a possibility followed by local lemon mint flavored ice-cream which leaves you dizzy with joy.
And being placed on the map. Each shopkeeper would pluck you out from the surrounding and play lets-see-if-i-know-what-place-on-earth-do-you-aliens-come-from. Which was quite laughter inducing.
The sounds (or lack of honking which you’d notice if you live in a crowded city), food (its not plain boiled! Yay!), colours (the skies varying at every possible chance, the overcoat & scarf clad local ladies, white valleys..exhausting to recollect), and the yummiest desserts you could imagine which ensures you don’t loose even a gram when you come back home.
This is my haphazard but not half hearted recollection of the best journey yet. May the gods of travelling be nice to me for ever and ever and ever.

Monday, July 23, 2012


This far away gaze,
This silent whimper,
This furtive thought,
Touches the fingers and turns to vapour.
This ominous fog, my breathe leaves
Blurred words, their lifespan just a blink.
I sit near the window, my home for the moment
The bench across the sea too at another
I carry the gaze, the silence, the unknown thought
To walk along with me, to reside in me
Till i find the next home.

Relentless fluttering, the heart needs to rest
I lie down in the dew.
Running feet over the pond, breaking the stars' glimpse.
I carry the unwashed fingers, along with the morning fragrance
The feet find the gravels
While i find the next home.

I look for a place, until i reach the final home.

Friday, June 8, 2012


You don't know if all was spoken,
That all which I held within
Was shared.
You don't know if all was what you saw,
That all which was in front
Was all what had to be seen.
If I hide within the turbulence of a stormy night
Or the calm of a spring morning.
Love for life, love life, life hence love
It is for each to find
Though guides along the path would point the way
It is for each to decide
Will it be search, or
Giving up and rest to follow.
Some thoughts wouldn't see the light
Someone with a yes may not be the answer
Somethings are meant not to be
Distorted perceptions & illusions may not survive.

Nothing is meant to survive, that is the eternal truth.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

In a straightjacket

She was scared of things. Scared of people. Scared to talk. Scared when talked too.
She was scared of heights. She was scared to touching anything.
She was jealous of people. Jealous that they seems so not scared.
Not scared of things, of people. Not scared when they talked. Or when somebody talked to them.
Jealous of people who could laugh out loud, without inhibition. Or who did not care of what people thought of them.
She was never the favourite. She was good at her studies but the teachers found the other kid who was charming better than her. She was the eldest child at home but she was supposed to act grown up since was the eldest child.
She was scared of making friends. Jealous of people who could make friends easily.
She was scared of losing friends. Jealous that people could stop caring after a while while she couldn't.
She was scared to love. She was jealous of people without spectacles, without messy hair, without bucktooth, without accumulating fat, with their overflowing talents & mirth, with someone to love them.

She sat in the tub, scratching away fear & jealousy that was in her. She scratched until her skin was red & burning. Until she felt like she was on fire. She wore a clean white gown & stepped out. Faint red marks were peeping from underneath.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Rustling thoughts

While the dream lasted, it felt all so real
To realise that the glimpse of the burning candle
Was the sun setting across the horizon.
The thoughts were bright & colourful.
Playing in the spring foilage with the blooming flowers.
Where laughter was easy to come
Looking at the butterflies & fireflies.

What is real, is it a nightmare
To which I have woken up
Or did I sleep.
Where the sounds weep.
Thorns adorn the weary traveller's path. Nothing ever as was before.

Life and its tragedies, living beyond
The shore. Of expectations & returns.

Monday, April 2, 2012


Building thoughts around wishes
Creating smiles around these thought
I am in love with them
They don't deny me that happiness
which these open eyes make me see
To be not possible, to be not real
To be mere dreams.

I am bound to fall
To have skinned my wishes' knees
To have my heart shattered into thousands of pieces
To have cried myself to sleep
To have woken up
when the bird won't cheer me
But what is a day without an accident, what is a life without incidences.

I carve my path along the way
I am the traveler and the destination
I walk along, looking for what to find
Trying to find who am I
I will never find me
But I will have my heart lost to you
When on our intersection, you are a part
Of my way.

I smile, teary eyed. I carry your thought with me.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Doubts I don't want to solve

The ocean, wide and never ending
It sure does have an end
Which my desires lack
Wanting that which is
Not less that a mirage.
But only if I knew what is that want.
All that the eyes see
It sees that what it wants to see
I believe what I want to.
The tree goes deep
But the roots know their purpose
My purpose is still unknown
Yet to be found.
I seek to find it too
It never seems to be in my reach though.
The nightgale, the hawk
They pray, they prey
Groping in the dark
Running behind shadows
I pray to fall prey to.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

When they thought

"You don't understand. There are miles and miles between us."
"But distance is really so trivial!"
"How did you manage to think there could be any outcome of this. We met on a social network. We haven't even met and there are bleak chances of we ever meeting in real."

And she was left wondering if distance really was that big a problem. How hard would it be to fly to his city and meet. Only if would just agree. Also, there was this minor issue of his words not showing any emotions. They had never had a voice conversation. But that never seemed a problem. She had fallen head over heels on his words. They were dark, complicated, not ever giving away what he was thinking. It had taken some time for her to get him to reply to her. Hr was opaque. Always on the edge, ready to snap. A challenge really. But of-course it did not stay a light pursuit for a long time. She wasn't known for keeping emotions at bay. And it had happened again.

Earlier it had happened with the one who would send her virtual sunflowers. Since she didn't have any favourite flower. And sunflower seemed good enough as an answer when he had asked her her favourites list. And they laughed. And she got one everyday. Until the day she told him and he reminded her the distance. Distance the first time. Distance always.

Wasn't it supposed to be a small world?

[typos fixed. Result of a slower day.]

Friday, February 10, 2012


Moh laaga rey tohsey piya,
mann bikhaare hai yaad.

Naina taakey aakaas ko,
bairaagan hui main,
aur tu naa jaaney naam mera.

Paraan saanso se bandha hai,
saans bandhe hai tohsey.
Tu toh chala jaata hai,
aangan se morey, bin batiyaae.

Peedh iss jagg se aur mila na kuch dooja.
Tu bhi aa daan kar, thodey aur dukh de badha.

Monday, February 6, 2012


She remembers not what it was
She knows not what would be there
She smiles and looks at the void
Imagined shadows playing seek.

She went about without a thought
They asked her to worry
They knew not she worried but she didn't know
She smiled at them and hid in the seeking shadows.

They told her of others who they wanted
She did not hear the words
She lived in their voices
She smiled at them and nodded.

She wondered of death
She did not know what to feel
She dreamt of screams
Of bloodied splashes on the wall
She knew not what the shadows asked.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Freshly rinsed and yet to dry

So then, using a collection of words that someone has used earlier isn't getting me behind bars, right?

Back to the point, i.e. home after

Manori [ferry, rickshaw, train, cab] Pune [cab] Panchgani [cab] Mahabaleshwar (being touristy) [cab] Panchgani [bus] Pune [train] Jabalpur [bus] Mandla [bus, gympsy] Kanha National Park [bus] Jabalpur [train, train, rickshaw] Home

That was the past few days worth of not being home, not working, taking a break, running around, being disconnected (mostly), taking a safari through a jungle, things cancelled due to unseasonal rains(!), watching deers and langoor early morning, going to another state, another city where a mall saved us our bladders and let us spend time bowling, playing around and wondering if we travelled so far to hang out in a mall(!) before the train back to home.

Well, it was quite fun. And funnier was our bad luck being ahead of us two hundred steps at every point.

The incidence of a constable asking us if we were college kids (since all the noise we people made), and told us to stfu (when we replied in the negative), won't be forgotten.

Some pictures below (phone cameras were used & the animals are missing since they don't allow phones to click pics inside the jungle)

Thursday, January 19, 2012


Could I be a myth, fragment of someones imagination
Could I be far away, nearer to no wants
Possibilities if you let them come over
But again they might change. Possible.

Walking the same way
The road knows where you go
I wonder where the path really is
A fork and you & I are back at the start.

Dark nights, the moon & starry knights blink
The invisible hands of breeze, ghosts behind the curtains
I stifle a yawn, squeeze the sleep away
Tearing eyes struggle
New and forgotten nightmares queued up.

Disjoint thoughts, floating in the sea of memories
Long forgotten, dulled, sketchy details
Vivid, blurred, fogged by imagined details.

I ramble along.