Thursday, November 27, 2008

if it was my job... look after people's life in Mumbai, I would have committed suicide by now. Or made an action plan with the motto: do or die.

High time the govt. woke up, stopped fighting over silly and petty issues and did something serious. i wonder why people in mumbai even go to offices and not be on road demanding peace and security? why do we always sit at home under curfew becuase theose damn idiots cannot provide us the basic right to live?

Tuesday, November 18, 2008


cups of coffee
speckled with drops of tears
rainbow of dreams
splattered with charcoal inkiness

patchwork self-respect
ripping apart at seams
if i'm not for myself
then who is?
if i won't speak
then who will

tired of pointed fingers
tired of words, words and words
my heart won't speak anymore

contemplating silence
brooding realities

condemned loneliness
forced solitude
a day?
a week?
a month?

the lonely corner beckons...

Friday, November 14, 2008

5 years bitten away

It all started innocently enough.

A surprise holiday from office, and Diva (my roommate) and I decided to do some pre-winter cleaning and then maybe go to Dilli-haat. We hauled off the bags from top of our almirahs. So out came the tumbling bundles of soft, cozy woolens and shawls, and all that is needed to survive winters in Delhi. Diva set about sorting them, and I thought of having a look at my portfolio, my HUGE file - containing my college work.

Clearing away the rest of the mess, I reached out towards the file, and my heart stopped beating. One side of it, the bottom right corner was bitten off. Gnawed at by sharp teeth. The mouse hadn't stopped at the thick cardboard casing, but had bitten all the way to the other side.

5 years of my sweat, my toil, of staying awake and screwing my eyes over intricate designs, of perfecting and re-perfecting a sheet, of sketches made in the peak of summers, my wrists staining the rough texture of the spanning over 5 years, two colleges and 6 teachers...

My favorite sheets - a girl standing inside an open door, hesitant, curious, rendered in oil pastels.
Another sheet, not something which was beautiful, but memorable, now eaten away because of those idiot mice's insatiable hunger.

I can still feel, in my bones, how it felt to take a brush and paint a canvas; dip it in colors of my dreams, and see my imagination come to life. I still remember the grainy texture of the handmade sheets, purchased by not having an ice-cream, that teddy bear...then using the almost broken oil pastels to paint, to draw. And wait for the next day, to show it to the wait, with bated breath for her to reject or accept it.

I didn't learn from the past, I guess.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Thursday, November 6, 2008

good catch

She frowned. And then some more. 

Tucking a fly-away wisp of silky hair behind her ear with her hands, she adjusted the phone, cradling it in her neck, while using her free hand to mark on her checklist. She was on phone with her aunt, giving her the news of her unofficial engagement. Her aunt was, predictably, excited. A bit too much. But she soothed her and comforted her. She told her about the guy, about how he had proposed, and promised to email his pictures to everyone asap. 

And called the next number. 

It had been two days now, and her phone was ringing off the hook. Congratulations were pouring from every side. 

"He's so handsome!"
"What a catch!"
"Lucky bitch, hid it well from us.."

Her frown was etched deeply now. Their remarks made her feel like a gold-digger, and she was tired of every one's repeated questions about marriage. The reason that she didn't want to marry right now, just because they both didn't feel like, wasn't acceptable to anyone. They called her day-in, day out. 

"...But beta, why not now? You have got such a good guy. Marry before it's too late..."

"...But why wait for another year...?

"...He'll be snatched by another...and then you'll repent. A year is too long..."

Her protests that he had been with her since the past 3 years now, fell to deaf ears. All they cared for was that the boy was a good catch and they both should marry quickly, the sooner the better.  

She was now on phone with her cousin. 
"Look, mummy is saying you two should fix up a date now.."
"What's the hurry guys?" she was irritated now. Angry even.

"You really shouldn't have sent his picture, you know..."
"...why..."she was puzzled now. His picture?
"They say he's too good-looking, and, well, they think you are...." he paused, embarrassed...

She disconnected the call angrily, her nail digging into the plasticated button of the mobile, half wounding it. Her flicks flickered about, but she didn't notice...

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

now this..

That's why I don't like reading news.

Now marriage can be broken even on the ground of pimples. 
No, really. not joking.

fine. Maybe pimples are repulsive to some poeple. But to break a marrigae? What are you? some perfect piece of human being that you want a goddess? Didn't that guy ever hear about acne treatment. Maybe it's just a dumb excuse he thought of for some other reason.

More than him, am angry at the court. What in the world is justice coming to?

News courstsey here.