the idea of you

every morning sunshine 

brings a small piece of you

to my mind and I dip it 

into my regular coffee 

to drink away my longing for you

those twilight hues remind me of 

your eyes, which peeked into my soul once 

and saw how my pain 

swallowed me in silence

Every night I stare at the 

dancing cursor on my empty message bar, 

which prompts me to text you... 

to talk to you... but I'm unable to... 

what if you typed back asking: 

sorry, who are you? 

It'd break my heart a little, you know

As I shut my eyes 

for a good night's sleep, 

I see us speaking 

those thousands of words 

which we may never speak in real life

Call me a hopeless romantic 

maybe to a fault 

but would it be too much if I say

that your smile and warm gaze 

brings my melancholic universe 

to a grinding halt

Is it you 

or the idea of you 

that's driving me crazy?

my midnight sun

you talk to me through your silences

in ways no one has ever done

for a moment I revel, thinking,

that you're my midnight sun

not that it matters to you

how much I think of 

talking to you

it's alright, I guess,

'coz I may never share 

what emotions I go through

you rattle those closed 

doors of my mental fortress

make me revisit my past

your every word tugs me 

closer to you

but I know we'll always be apart

I try to talk to you through my silences

may be in ways no one has ever done

I wish you could revel, thinking,

at least for a moment

that I may be your midnight sun

Uncomfortably romantic

it's like walking into
a chaos so similar
that you're unable to
identify yours...


it's like sharing silences
so comfortable
that it becomes 
uncomfortably romantic...


it's like that celestial
connection you form
even as you know
it can't be requited...


it's like tangling
your life into theirs
knowing that you'd
get stuck in that
beautiful purgatory forever...


it's like the gravitational pull
between the moon and earth
which keeps them alive
only when they are apart...


it's that seductive discomfort
you've willingly embraced and
do not want to let go off...


somewhere between
a hot and cold mess
you do not wish
to come out of...


lies a space known only to an
uncomfortably romantic heart

letter to a suicide helpline

  

dear reader of my mail,

how are you doing today? not a great icebreaker, i know. well, i have never been spectacular at interactions. i was not sure how to approach you, R. can i call you 'R'? R is for reader, okay? just saying.

today, as the sun was shutting its shop for the day, i keyed in the helpline number, but couldn't hit the call button. just like a few years ago when i thought to call before contemplating to jump off from a moving train or last year when i wanted to play a single-player tic-tac-toe on my wrist using a glistening sharp blade.

you see, R, as i was growing up, i always failed in learning this widely-spoken language of self-expression. but i thought, at least today, i should do myself a favour and indulge in doing something i'm moderately good at - writing. i would have added a tinge of romance to this interaction by putting a pen to paper and posting an actual handwritten letter to your office address, but you'll have to blame this pandemic. Or maybe you're just relieved that you're being spared from this theatrics. :P

i won't make it long, i promise. i know you might have to look at several such emails and attend calls daily. you may not hurry to respond to mine. it's fine if you want to use your time to respond to the ones who urgently need help. i completely understand. :)    

so, here goes...

as my life is passing me by, i stumble upon this beautiful book, which i feel, talks to me. it even touches a raw nerve sometimes when it narrates a story which is eerily similar to mine. it makes me feel, as if, i belong to that book or as if it's written for me. its greyed, yellowed pages bear the same scars as mine. it bleeds words soaked in excruciating pain and heartache as mine. it asks me questions which no one ever does. it makes me cry, it makes me uncomfortable, it makes me anxious, and also makes me rattle those several rusty locks of the tightly-sealed entrance door of my fortress. sometimes, i feel, that this book sees through my pain, or may be even my soul. scary, no? or just painfully beautiful?  

but, you know, R, after basking in this thought for a while, i realized that the book is written for thousands of troubled readers like me. it is meant to conjure its magic on those lost souls like me seeking a fantastical escape or a secure home for their ravaged minds. i realized i'm not its only reader. i'm not exclusive. i'm not special. you know, R, just like it has always been like that for me with most of my relationships. i know mine is such an unrealistic expectation from a book. but i'm a human no after all? can't a book lover fall for a nice book? i can feel you agreeing with me there right now... :D

but it's alright, i guess. i shouldn't fuss about such things... aur bhi gham hai zamaane me meri sad kahaniyon ke siva... :P :D (that's a borrowed line from faiz I tweaked for satiating my unnecessarily raging creative urges here.) 

never mind, though, at least this book unknowingly made me do this - write to you, R, and your wonderful organization. i must confess, that even writing this was somewhere close to cathartic, like caressing the earth of the hilltop after a nerve-racking climb. just like it has always been for me, when i try speaking the language, i guess, i will never ace.

you may not respond to this email, R. it's fine. i would like to revel in the thought that your eyes met this last line.

 

you take care, R.

may the force be with you

 

 

 

p.s: after my suicide post, i thought i might follow through. corona-inflicted 2020 is almost over but i'm still alive. sorry to disappoint. 

dear son...

 no moment has ever been

so magical for me

than seeing you 

for the first time

after nine months' journey

when we look at

your tiny limbs

your sleepy eyes

your full cheeks &

your innocent smiles

we're eternally grateful, 

my love, to have you 

in our lives

I hope my womb 

& your dad's love

were warm & safe 

enough for you

because, my love, 

it's in a tough world 

you've come into

we want you to be  

independent, knowledgeable, 

fearless and boundless

we also want you to have a  

bit of our qualities, no less 😋

we want you to explore, 

succeed, fail, rise

and live your life to the fullest

life can be difficult and unforgiving

but always remember, my love,

no matter what we will always 

be by your side

We love you,

To the moon and back

(I wrote this for my sister's son who was born in 2020. She had asked me to write it on her behalf. Weird? I know. :P But who reads this blog anyway?! Just want to keep my words alive somewhere.)

The smile that scared the shit out of me..

 

I was waiting for 10.04 pm Malad (F) local at Dadar Railway Station. 

An old lady approached me and asked if I had water. 
She said she was thirsty. I obliged. 
The old lady looked fragile. Her tattered and washed out nine-yards saree said that she was a beggar but she had bright light blue eyes.
She drank the water and said 'dhanyawaad' (Thank you).
I smiled and turned around to see if the train has arrived.
She walked a few steps ahead and waited for the train.
A minute later, train arrived and we both boarded the train.

Even as the train was not crowded, I preferred standing near the door. She was sitting down on the passage, like normally beggars sit.  
As Bandra Station was about to arrive, she got up.
The train crosses Mithi River before arriving at the Bandra Station. Sometimes trains halt or slow down while crossing the river.
The train slowed down. She looked at me, smiled notoriously and inched closer. This confused me and honestly I was a bit scared too.

The train crossing the bridge over Mithi River during the daytime.

What if she pushes me? Looked like, the way she smiled.
I thought I should sit down on one of the many vacant seats, but it was too late. She was so close and she had a fixed menacing smile with her canine teeth sharp like a vampire. I was about to push her aside and scream. I felt that the temperature around me dropped all of a sudden to 0 degrees. Or maybe I was so scared that I thought the temperature dipped so low.  

She said ata tu je baghshil te tu ayushyat kadhich baghitla nasel, ani parat kadhich baghnar nahis (Now, you will see something that you have never seen in your life. And you will see it for the last time.) As I was about to push her hard and shout help, she dived into the river with her body facing towards me.  She waved at me with that smile still on her face.
I was so shocked and mind-numbed that I didn't move at all for a few seconds neither did I scream.
Then suddenly as the train jolted back in motion I came back to my senses. I bent ahead to see if I could see if the lady was struggling, but surprisingly, there was no sound of the water splashing or any movement in the still river. 

I was so shocked that I turned around at the fellow passengers to ask if they saw the lady jumping.
Five ladies, two were busy gossiping about some person in their office so they didn't notice at all, one was asleep and the other two were busy on their cell-phones.
Just one agreed that she did see the old lady, but added that she saw that lady boarding off the train immediately on the Dadar station. She said that the old woman didn't board the train at all.
I narrated the incident to them, but she was sure that I was standing alone and I must be hallucinating. Others agreed and chuckled.
I was a bit annoyed by that but didn't have the energy to argue. I sat down shocked, unconvinced that it can be a hallucination. Such things  never happened to me.

Malad Station arrived. I climbed off the train. I was so shocked that I was standing still on the platform.  The train was scheduled to go the nearest railway yard. The lights of the train coaches were now off. I started walking towards the nearest foot-over-bridge. I rubbished the incident as a nightmare.

I met my neighbour and was relieved to have company till home. As I was climbing the bridge, I heard a whisper in my ears.. aye taai, maage baghun bye kar na (Hey sister, turn around and say goodbye)
I turned around, saw no one was that close to whisper in my ears. I asked my neighbour, if she said something, she denied. I turned to see the train which was slowly moving towards the direction of the Borivali railway yard. I saw a dark figure of the same old lady waving at me from the same ladies coach. I thought her canine tooth was shining in the platform light. Was she smiling?

I was about to shit in my pants. I held my neighbour's hand and ran for my life. I narrated the incident to my confused neighbour when we were in the auto, she was laughing her ass off thinking that I have gone mad and I was tripping on something. She was sure I am high on drugs. 
I told her, that I am not on drugs and all this happened for real. She didn't believe me.

Later, in my mind I agreed too. I thought, maybe, there was something mixed in the evening snacks which I ate.  Anyway, I ate dinner and thankfully had a peaceful sleep sans such moronic real-life like nightmares.

So, this is how I narrated this cooked-up story to scare my 10-year-old cousin, out of sheer pleasure, while we were travelling on one of those regular 10.04 pm Malad (F) train.

Aaj jane ki jidd na karo.. (Fiction: Short story)

 

Tumhi socho jara.. kyu na roke tumhe, jaan jaati hai jab.. uthke jate ho tum,

Tum ko apni kasam janejaan, baat itni meri maan lo..  

Aaj jane ki jidd na karo.. yunhi pehelu me baithe raho..

Waqt ki quaid me zindagi hai magar, chand ghadiyaan yehi hai jo azaad hai.. 

inko kho kar meri janejaan, umra bhar na taraste raho.. 

Aaj jane ki jidd na karo..

Haaye mar jayenge, hum to lutt jayenge, aisi baatein kia na karo..

Aaj jane ki jidd na karo

Kitna maasum rangin hai ye samaa, husna aur ishq ki aaj mairaaj hai..

Kal ki ko khabar janejaan, rok lo aaj ki raat ko..

She was listening intently till the last line of the last paragraph, when she broke down. She was leaving the country in a month and was marrying her lover half-heartedly as she never dreamed of living in any other city / country but her own. The day was inevitable and I knew I had to see her go away some day. That day had finally arrived.

Her office colleagues, which included me, had arranged for her a wonderful house party and she had no inkling whatsoever that she was coming home to a surprise. 

She had quit her job and was about to marry her lover who recently got a job in the United States. She would embrace the foreign land as her own with no intention of returning any time soon. 

Her terrace flat was beautifully decorated with candles and flowers with sufi music in the background to add some charm to the evening. 

She came, she saw and was surprised. She was speechless for the moment but gathered her best words to thank us. And the party began. 

All settled down with their dinner plates and some wine. My eyes were skirting hers. I didn't meet her the whole day today. Not that I didn't want to, I was trying to check if I was able to resist myself the whole day without seeing her impeccable beauty. Another failed attempt. I had crossed her cabin before leaving the office, although the exit route was the other way, just to see her.

She finally called me and asked me to join her in the open air of her terrace flat. I was reluctant but couldn't resist. As much I loved inching closer to her, I feared her lover, who was also present in the party, would not like it. He knew that I had confessed my love to her and had intense feelings for her. But she was gracious enough to behave normally and convinced him that there was nothing between us. 

We were sitting on the swing in the open air terrace. The moonlight was at its brightest tonight. It didn't matter, because it wouldn't have lit up the darkness of my life.

She requested me to sing any song of my choice. I remember how she used to ask me to sing songs during our coffee breaks together when she was upset. Slowly others gathered around us. They encouraged me to sing a song for her. I refused with an excuse of a sore throat. I feared that I might break down if I sing. Thanks to my gifted bad luck, no one bought that excuse. I had to sing. 

I am no expert at camouflaging my emotions when it comes to singing. I began. 

Aaj jane ki jidd na karo, 

Yunhi pehelu me baithe raho.. 

......

......

 

And why should all of this bother me? Because, I love her. Because, I want to see her happy. Because, even when I know I can never have her in  my life, I wish for a miracle to change the constellation of twisted stars of my destiny. Because I am a woman who has fallen deeply in love with another.

P.S : For the ones who didn't get the privilege ever to listen to this beautiful song by Farida Khanum.

Dear nightmare...

 

On a dark chilly night, marooned in some unknown boundless space...
searching for a speck of light...
out of nowhere you suddenly fall and get stuck in a quicksand!
You choke... You are breathless... You call for help but you don't see any coming...
You struggle to come out... but you lack strength...
You are now neck-deep in the quicksand,
as it pulls you down... You wait with the dreaded mind for the death to come...

Pop! You open your eyes, terrified, you sit with a jolt not believing that you're safe and alive... A numbness prevails in your head and incapacitates you, so you calm down...

Such an incubus can be framed as... "A job well done by a nightmare!"
Nightmares, say, have become a part of my life now. Last night I found these lines written by me when I was young and used to spend my nights courting horrible nightmares!

Oh! Just buzz off, will you?
Let me sleep in peace

You've fallen in love with me, have you?
Don't have to disturb me every night...

You scare me many times...
You freeze me sometimes... 

The dark of the night, which once befriended me...
doesn't any more!
The twinkling dots up above, who once inspired me...
Don't any more!

Why don't you go for a long holiday...
Oh! My monstrous little scary nightmare,
Just buzz off, will you?

Dead End (75-word short)

 

 "I will kill you.. you bastarddddd rat..." I heard her sharp shrill voice.

They were so after my life... “Oh Goddd... Leave me the fuck alone, will you?”

 

I ran past the main door, saw the empty street. Took a sharp turn around the corner 

 

and stopped.

All I saw was a human graffitied wall with "Dead End" written in huge.

I turned around; she was there with her huge longhair gang, sharpening their claws, 

 

whiskers shining.

 

No escape now.  Bye.

Inside a murderer's head (75-word short)

 

Some like money. Some power. Some sex. Some even like God (can you imagine!)

I like sadism. I loved to watch people scream in fear when my homicidal psychopath father used to take me along for his adventures.

I used to get entertained sitting in a corner looking at how my dad slit their throats with such an ease.

Father finally got caught and hanged. I fled.

Yeah, I am the 'most wanted' serial killer today.

Madness (75-word short)

 

“Madness for your country is what really defines you as a person; you need to be passionate about your country...”

 

Around ten cadets were listening to the Captain.

 

“The time has come to show the world, that you can fight till your last breath!!

Don’t spare our enemies... come on now... Jump and glide like an eagle…”

 

Suddenly, a man shouts from behind.

 

“Hey! Get back to your psychiatric ward you retarded military ass. This is a terrace. Not some fighter plane!” said the male nurse of the mental hospital.

Accidental death (75-word story)

 
She came. She saw and conquered.

How can an 18-year-old college goer give me a run for my money? 

I hate her. She hogs the limelight. Oh, boy I find her so lame!

My Manager called me, “take June to our new office tomorrow. She is will be sharing the cabin with you.” The last thing I wanted. 

My car stalled near the crossing. I stepped out. I got a sharp push.!!

She reported accidental death.