Stringless love

You go love bird, go off the strings

And explore the colors of the world

I am letting go you of my true love

I know that you know I love you true

I know that you know you are my life

You are my world, my life

But today I free you of the chains

Fly off to green lands not trodden

Discover the newness, color of life

Fall in love with the beautiful world

Explore the hills, springs, the land of sun

Live life stringless

Know you true love and then come back

I will wait.

The incompleteness is now complete

You had instilled such joy, I had felt complete

Not a care in the world no burden unwieldy

A song in my heart, tapping were my feet

 

There was a time when time stood still

Every moment when I gazed at your face

All my dreams, I hoped you would fulfill

 

Yet a fear, a doubt had been lurking around

Will I one day, from my slumber awake

Find reality hurting and the pain profound

 

We never could really travel together

Fate or what else that stood the barrier

Pondering, makes the predicament only harsher

 

We lived the years as there were to live

But something was amiss something unconsummated

More often than not, the mood would turn pensive

 

Heard of your demise today, my heart went offbeat

That potential and those possibilities that could have been

My feeling of incompleteness is now complete.

Sparrow on my window

It was a sparrow

Yes, a little sparrow

All set to keep me on my toes

When the world slept in dark and peace

It would nibble, nick and flutter on the AC sil

It would shake me off my warm sleep

At the dead of the night

The starry nights are not so pleasant

When you are clumsy, have deadlines to catch

The sparrow all set to plot against me

It stroked the tin sil as if there is no tomorrow

As if he met his long lost lover after a war

Everyday, all through the winter month, all night

I would wake up at midnight and come out

To fly off the little plotting creature, with a dead twig

So that I can sleep in peace

And can reach in time prim and proper

And then one day

I woke up to silence

No picking, no flutters, no signs of existence

I opened the window and sneaked out

But no sparrow, no life, no plots against me

All night I tossed on bed thinking of the little bird

A lost little bird that strayed to bad weather, fog and cold

To some distant world, far off, far away.

Of family, love, life and tea drinking legacy

I woke up to a beautiful day, unlike the past couple of days when the sun did not wake up at all and the rains were having a ball. Not really a rain girl, I would rather laze in my warm settee than to enjoy the rhetoric of the rains.

It was early in the morning and the sun was already looking so beautiful. Series of memories visited me and made me unusually nostalgic. I handled my white and gold rim ceramic cup just filled with semi fuming Darjeeling tea with little milk and sugar. I like it with milk, I always have. Over the years, my taste for tea has changed, grown and have substantiated me. I have been a tea drinker ever since my late teens. My grandma, an addict and a beautiful heart, was the first to rise and make her and the family the first cup of tea. She only used to get going after her first cup. I, essentially being her flower child, used to love the little sips that would made me feel like her, more than anything else. Tea got me to its clings, literally, much later. I would love the masala chai loaded with sugar and milk. That was a phase which had its lovely moments. As I grew up, I found tea more enigmatic. The flavors are variant, distinctive and appealing.

Grandma left the legacy of tea drinking to me. In my family, now, it’s only my father and I, who relish the idea of morning and evening teas, teas for different occasions and weathers. We love everything that is good tea and how it is served. I believe in that the flavor changes or enhances with the right kind of serving containers. So, I stress on the right kind of cups for a different kinds of teas. My mother hardly drinks tea but has specializes on the art of making it on my insistence. I am picky when it comes to tea. My sisters and their family are occasional tea drinkers – something I appreciate. But when they are visiting us, I manage to tempt them to some relishing cups of tea. The idea of having it all together is really alluring and great fun. We serve it with lots of cookies, Indian snacks, love and gossips.

Things have changed over the years, we have metamorphosed, father has gone more bald, I have had my first grey hair sneaking out every now and then and grandma is no more. But our love for good tea is one good constant factor that has still gotten us all together to the morning tea table over a beautiful tea drinking ritual.

One moment in time

I lived all my days, for that one moment in time
No past no future, in that instance
Felt the world around me sublime

All seemed so clear to me and yet I was blind
Wanted no past no future in that instance
A knot was getting tied there, never to unwind

In your arms I lay trustingly when you kissed my forehead
Felt no past no future in that instance
For me only for me this is, my every being pleaded

In the life that I live, such moments I want to steal
With no past no future in that instance
Time would just stop and the days would turn surreal

Sigh! We walked our separate ways, now memories drop by as gentle dew
There was no past no future in that instance
So never mind the ending dear, love, with you it did ensue

Matters of the heart-\-break

Are you in love with some person? Deeply in love? How free have you been with him/her physically?  If you have been  only hugging and kissing, this article is meant for you.  If you have gone beyond that or below the waistline, don’t read it.

The modern generation know all about safe sex, the safe period, protected sex, condoms etc. Wonder if they enquire about her safe days from the girl concerned.  Where would be the time for it anyway? The decision itself would be spontaneous and urgent and the darned  act would finish before you  count ten !

The other day I saw on the net a Western pair, aged around 24 years, who  had been having sex regularly like any married couple practising  the technique of  ‘withdrawal’.  It seems to have worked out for them  well for 4 years and they have not decided to get married. I have a horrible feeling  that  they would never get married at all.  In all probability, they may  marry  someone else.  Why? You may ask. They need new pastures, the earlier one having been explored and eaten up. I only  hope the Indian adventurers don’t resort to the  “withdrawal technology.”

One  very  knowledgeable  youngster asked seriously some days back,  “What’s the harm?  It’s only natural, isn’t it? We know how to protect ourselves from STD and undesirable pregnancy etc?”

“Well said, boy,” I complimented him.  “But do you know the consequences? STD and pregnancy  are not the only issues, remember?”

He cocked up his ears to what I had to say.

In India, dear young man, one falls in love so that it leads to the marriage altar.  A maiden dreams of it from week one.  She may not think of casual sex at all. But she may give in, if you insist on it all   because she  loves you a lot and doesn’t want to displease you in any  manner nor lose you on account of a denial.

“OK.  That’s fine,” he remarked interrupting me.

“It’s not fine,  dear fellow.  Firstly, you will feel very guilty about it since you have done something  wrong and against  our culture. Let’s say you care two hoots for the culture. Next, you are likely to  lose all interest in her because you have tasted her pre maturely.”

Some young men may even start hating the sight  of that girl; she would suddenly look ugly in your eyes; and possibly you may even dub her as a lose character who could surrender to anyone asking for sex..  The most important development could be, “There is nothing to look forward to in her thereafter.” And you part ways.

The affected college scholar scratched his chin. “Y…e…s sort of …”  On a closer cross examination he confessed that he had abandoned his No.1 but since he belonged to a group of 4,  he was having an eye on another.

“Have you tasted her too?”

“Not yet, Sir.”

“Do you love No. 2?

“No, not really.  But I did love No.1 very deeply.  Really loved her, Sir.  Dreamt of her as my future wife….”

“What happened then?  You have kicked her out of your heart now , haven’t you?” After several minutes of silence, he accepted  that he had.

This is what will happen if you try out your fun sex. You would lose all  interest in her.  Is it fair on the girl?  Won’t she carry this guilt in her mind assuming she gets married to another person?  A ‘guilty past’ may lead to quarrels, disagreements, arguments and an unhappy end as well.

I have personal knowledge of a few cases. What if the girl gets pregnant? Her future is gone for ever. And the  culprit would, more often than not,  refuse to marry her on some excuse or the other.  The poor girl delivers the baby. I heard several stories of this kind in a Cheshire home where unmarried girls  surrender their unwanted baby. Will such unfortunate females stand the chance of marriage ever again?  Surely not.  Every gent inIndiawants a pure virgin and nothing less.

Despite the pre-marital thing, some stick to their resolve and get married. But then their marriage never lasts. To quote a case: These two were deeply in love for about 18 months and were due to be married shortly. “Why not?  After all we are getting married, aren’t we?”  asked the male partner. The girl reluctantly agreed.  After they went through it, the man had a change of heart; he didn’t want her any longer;  there was nothing to discover in her any more. He avoided her and married someone else.

In another case, [which unfortunately took place in my own family !], though they got married all right after some 2 years of courting, and one abortion,  the marriage didn’t succeed; my sister couldn’t conceive and  the union ended in permanent separation.  Don’t you think but for the pre marital sex and the  badly done abortion, their marriage would have clicked with a couple of children?

All these failures are  due to  ‘one mistake’, one simple mistake committed at an emotional moment when they had lost control over their passion. If only they hadn’t succumbed  to this temptation of  trial sex, they would have been a happy couple with healthy children.

So, keep away from this practice, children.  Remember, “To delay is to increase the pleasure.”  So, hold on until you tie the nuptial knot. You will then enjoy not only your ‘wedding night’ but also have a long lasting and solid  married life.

There is one more thing. The modern day children are very knowledgeable and bold as well.  It’s possible your own daughter would one day ask you how you met her father. “Were you in love with him? For how long? Did you have sex with him before marriage?”  You cannot lie to your own flesh and blood. Wouldn’t you avoid cutting a sorry figure in front of your own daughter.

So keep yourself under control and pure  so that you become a role model to your own children.

Color my heart

The sky splashing colors

Blue red, oranges

Dark green, light green, purples, pinks

 

The best is the not-so-red color

The virgin red is very close to my heart

Full of hope, power and love

 

So what it’s not-so-red?

Difference between red and not-so-red

Is just a shade or two

 

You give the not-so-red

And I will color my heart a shade darker

A perfect virgin red.

 

 

Who are you?

Who are you?

Who really are you

You find more happiness in my pains

Than in your own happiness

You await my sad moment to be happy

You highs do not seem to amuse you anymore

You find solace in my humiliation

You stalk me instead of contemplating your life

You smile when I cry

You hate it when I laugh

Who really are you

Who are you?

 

Woman anywhere…

I could have sworn

that a tear had run down

I knew she was strong

but how long could she

hold on?

A mother of two

a boy & a girl

a wife so devoted

a woman who cared.

Now,she remains all

alone

her womb is empty

so is her heart & soul.

For is there any life left

for a widow or a mother

who loses her kids

to death?

But she is strong,

she held on…

Crossroads… !

Jiya felt out of the world; finally, everything was moving in the way she always wanted. She forever liked Krish – loved him to be precise, but perhaps the power that is known as almighty had some other plans. They became voyagers of two different streams, diverging from each other. Her destined path kept her at bay, until one day when he was back in her life.

7 years elapsed before he was back – however, things were different as he was married by then. One fine day Jiya surprisingly received a friend request from Krish on a social network site, which she accepted gleefully. He remained like any other friend in Jiya’s friend-list mostly benign, until one day he made his first move when both of them were online at the same time, and from then it all started to roll back. Both lived in two different cities, so they decided to meet when Krish was supposed to visit Delhi for the next time, which was the hometown for both of them and where Jiya was settled.

The time came soon and they met. After the meeting however, Jiya realised that he was a changed man. He was not the same crazy guy whom she loved even though they spent ample intimate moments. She found him to be more matured yet somewhere deep in her heart Jiya still felt that the crazy guy she loved was still alive, buried somewhere beneath the debris of his mellowness.

Two years elapsed like that, by then chatting was notably replaced by calls that they made to each other. They again came closer to each other by each passing day. Jiya however still missed the passion that made her fall for Krish, 7 years back. Soon however everything changed.

One day when Jiya was online and he suddenly pinged her, they resumed their chatting and it almost became a routine to be online at a particular time. Jiya felt happy this time, everything was falling into place, everything was happening in the way she always wanted. Krish started showing his feelings; all his craziness and passion was back. They got very much involved when one day he asked her to send him some of the videos that she recorded on self, where she spoke intimately about him. The file size was huge and she was not being able to send through mail despite persistent effort. That was when all of a sudden Krish called her. She took the call and said, “Sweetie tell me how to minimize these clips?” Krish however to her surprise replied, “What videos?” Jiya replied, “I am asking you about the video you asked me to send. The size of the clip is big and I am not being able to compress it”. Krish replied, “I have no clue about what you are talking! I am calling you almost after a month!” Jiya was surprised on hearing that. She said, “Hey, stop joking na! We have been chatting regularly over a month now for hours everyday and you asked some of my video that I had recorded for you!” Krish however almost gave an impression that he knew nothing about what she was talking. He then asked about the chat id of the person whom Jiya was talking to. Jiya replied, “It is kriish4u and spelt it K – R – double I, S, H”. To her astonishment Krish promptly said, “No, that’s not my id. My id is krish4u. I don’t have that extra I in my id; you must have been chatting to someone else”. Jiya became numb; she disconnected the call and was dumbstruck unable to move or react.

After couple of days when she cooled down, she started to think over the whole episode. Something bothered her from within; she kept on asking herself that how come some other guy with a similar id knew so much about their relation. Suddenly in a flash, she recalled that the guy on chat said her a few things which happened when she met Krish in Delhi and those were such incidents which were impossible for a third person even to guess! Her head started to spin and within seconds the world around her became dark as she fainted.

She regained her consciousness almost after 10 min.  She then knew what was wrong; she stood up on her trembling legs, walked slowly to her bedroom, booted her laptop, and started mailing Krish.

Krish, I am shattered after all that has happened. I guess now it is tougher for me to start from scratch yet again, as you will always remind me of my mistakes. I am sure that I know who that other guy is. Who could know about all those secrets and intimate hours we shared last time when we met in Delhi? It cannot be such a big coincident that you both share such similar ids. I frankly do not know why you came back into my life and why you did all this to me! I am just ruined. This relationship is over now; perhaps that will not even bother you but it is for sure that never in my life I can trust anyone as deeply as I had trusted you. Because you have taught me the biggest lesson of my life – trust is meant to be broken!

Wives indeed deserve a day of honour, don’t they?

Wives indeed deserve a day of  honour , don’t they?

Yes, why not?

Don’t we observe as of now all kinds of days – Valentine’s day, Children’s day, Teachers’ day, Mother’s day, Father’s day.  Why is ‘wife’ missing from the  above list? What has she done  to  be deprived of this honour?  She is a mother all right but her primary role as wife should not be forgotten. It would appear that the world has indeed forgotten her.

Till recent time, one  officer  by the name  S. Narayanan, the  Administrative officer of a Marriage Hall in Chennai,India used to celebrate what could be called “Couples’ day”.  He hired a marriage hall and   invited all the married couple to gather there for some fun and frolic.   Men of different age groups and from all walks of life dressed like grooms along with their  proud spouse  came to this particular hall for the ceremony.  Some grooms were in their 70’s and their wives  appeared  as coy  as they were on their wedding day years ago. This was done on 30 August.  In the year 2008, nearly  1008  couples  attended the ceremony  and the practice seems to have died down in the last two years or so.  Why, I  wonder?

True, a wife’s day could be commemorated inside one’s own home also but a public show has its own charm. Several people get to see you.  You become a  cynosure of all eyes and a role model for youngsters.  Your own children will go ga ga adoring and blessing you with gifts and kisses.  Won’t that be a grand nostalgia?

Many Indians celebrate the sixtieth year  wedding day. On attaining the age of 60 by the father, the children would get their parents married  for the second time at a home ceremony.  In the Indian language it is called ‘Sashtiaboorthi’. This is a great occasion, isn’t it?  The children conducting  the wedding  ceremony and  making their parents recollect  their good old wedding day years back !  So, why not observe a “Wife’s day” to honour the mother?

An Indian  wife,  is a real Home maker in the literal sense.  She shoulders the entire burden of the family while letting her  husband  have a  life free of any worries.  She is truly a God given gift to a man and this annual function would reflect the men folk’s  gratitude for her.

90% of the Indian wives are absolute home makers.  Their sole  job is to administer the home, bear children and rear them up  and  also be a companion to her husband. They do accept  that the  husband is the head of the house and she is his assistant.

The other 10% happen to be working women – full working women bringing in a pay packet sometime  larger than the husband’s. The latest trend shows that the Divorce rate is high  in the homes of working women who seem to have developed an ego that they are no less in competence and status and could command a voice in the home running possibly not admitting that the husband is the head.  This is the starting point of domestic disharmony and invariably leads to the break up of the marriage.  I wonder if in such homes, the husband would  ever be willing to observe the Wife’s day and thank the lady for all her devotion to him !

I suggest 30 December   be celebrated as “Wife’s day” the world over henceforth.  I don’t think even the Western nations have reserved a day in  honour of the wife.  Isn’t it high time they did it? Accordingly, will everyone kindly gear up for 30 December this year?

While it may not be necessary to gather at a  particular place in large numbers, the day could be observed and rejoiced at  inside every home where the wife cum mother is honoured  profusely by the husband and treated with gifts and tributes.  It’s my wish that 30 December be accepted as the “Wife’s day” the world over and the Lady of the Home be showered  with  love and respect.

In some social clubs, they observe a day called “Husband’s night” whereof it is the wives who would be at the service of men including serving drinks and taking the hubby for a dance and so on ..  A very good notion of applauding the husbands.  But then, why don’t we have “Wives night” in these clubs. My friend rebukes me and tells , “Don’t be stupid, man.  Don’t we look after the ladies well and ensure they are comfortable during all  the club evenings?”  True.  Come to think of it, every club evening is a “Wife’s night”.

But, a “Wife’s day” is  much more significant.  It’s an annual  day of thanksgiving by the husband  and  by the husband alone unlike  “Mother’s day” when she is venerated by both the husband and children.

 

——-

 

It was the spring of one year

It was the spring of one year
A spring so untimely, yet so pretty
There was no rain
Yet everything seemed fresh
The same old sun shone upon the earth
Yet everything seemed brighter
The winds that blew were no different
Yet they carried the fragrance of headiness
The waves that washed over our feet had touched millions
Yet they were special as they united our steps
Spring was around us as we stood upon the rocks
In the light of the setting sun
The cool spring air that ruffled your hair
As we walked back home
The spring that had come and gone for centuries before us
But had never seemed so close to heart

It was the spring of one year
That was destined to be so short-lived
The winds no longer brought with them your fragrance
The sun shone, but I could not see your face in its light
The waves still lapped at my feet, but now they walked alone
The sun set in the horizon, but there was only one person on the rocks
A spring, that would be followed by a winter endless

Springs, that came and went
Would come and go for time eternal
Springs, that brought with them new experiences
New people, new places
Springs, that would never again be so unique
Springs, that would never again be treasured

Commitment

I am afraid to be committed,

because I don’t want to  fail,

but now I am ready..

in the name of love.

Part of this commitment are promises,

Promises that should never be break,

For this connects us and bind us,

not just friends but at this time as lovers.

I promise to be at your side,

ready to be called all the time,

In happiness and triumphs,

Specially in sorrow and despise.

I promise not to lie,

or else I will die.

I promise to be your eyes,

If you need light and sight.

I promise to be your ears,

If  you need someone to listen and give advice.

I promise to be at your back,

Ready to tap, if you need back-up.

I promise to call or send messages to you,

despite of  a busy time.

Three things I assure you,

Honesty, Trust and Love,

that you never get from anyone.

Rest assured that being faithful to you,

will always be in my heart.

I am willing to sacrifice my time,

Everything I have,

just to prove my love.

for it will be….

 

ONLY YOU.. ONLY YOU.. in my life.

 

(dedicated to MJR)

Poem for My Love

I’m so glad, I have you,
but pls…………
don’t try to account the love of mine,
coz i will be hurt,
……….hundred times

for one thing i may not lie,
that’s the love I have for you right now.

Pls. don’t even try,
to say things that can hurt me badly,
coz i will be hurt…………
thousand times.

If something is unfavorable,
don’t dare to ask me,
anything that you want to say,
coz i will listen to you freely,
…’coz if not,
I will be hurt million times………

I miss you each day,
dont be mad pls. at me,
if i am not able to contact you hourly,
be open-minded and please me,
because if not……..
I will be hurt…… billion times

I love you  dearly……..

Diaries of a dreamer – Part II

And then came the farewell party. We were in class 10 and were soon to part ways. I had always thought of myself as a very emotional person. However, as the farewell party (our last day at school) approached, I kept waiting for the feeling of sorrow – of separation. But for some reason, I didn’t feel a thing.. May be I will feel it after the party, I thought.

The day of the party, I wore a sari, for the first time. Black was my favorite color then so I chose a plain black sari with a thin purple border. That day I took extra effort to dress myself up with neat, light make up and no jewellery. I hate jewellery (even today). I feel women look so much sexier without jewellery. Black color went well with my fair complexion and curly brown hair. Of my features, only my smile is worth a mention, so I had make up take care of my other features. And I won’t deny that the result was quite good. I was looking beautiful.

I entered the school party hall along with my friends. As always, my eyes searching for him (secretly of course). He was no where to be seen, may be he’s just late I thought. As I was enjoying the music, Karthik, one of our classmates (sorry correction: one of our most good looking classmates) came to me and started chatting. He asked me for a dance and I agreed. I anyway love dancing, I can do it anywhere, anytime with anybody. At first I felt conscious of the sari, but as I realized all eyes glued to us, I felt a sense of pride and then for the next twenty minutes, I thoroughly enjoyed with Karthik. He was a charming young guy, really very charming. And as I was taking a full circle, hand in hand with him, I suddenly saw my entire group of friends staring at me, as if they had caught me stealing money from the Principal’s office.  I wondered what was wrong and then I suddenly saw him – oops, I just realized I haven’t yet told you his name. Its Sagar. Sagar was sitting at the end of the group and staring widely at the ground. His eyes were red, I could make out in spite of the distance. I couldn’t complete that circle that I was taking with Karthik. I left his hand and just slowly moved towards the group. Some of my other friends started hooting, in an attempt to tease me with Karthik and that only made things worse.

He was looking at me with angry eyes. As I walked towards him, he suddenly turned his face away – with hurt and anger. That gesture did not go down well with me. I thought why the hell should I be apologetic! Firstly I haven’t done anything wrong, there was nothing between me and Karthik (There couldn’t have been even if I ever wanted to – I was like booked for Sagar, according to him and our full group). And secondly, there was even nothing between me and Sagar, actually! At least officially. My guilt suddenly turned into disappointment and then anger. I stood in front of him, looking straight at him. He refused to even return my stare. I looked at our friends, they made a helpless face – Sagar was known for his short temper. But I didn’t care, anger took over me and I left from there abruptly.

I was actually considering leaving the party altogether, and go home but didn’t know what I would tell my parents about why I came home so early. So I was just thinking of an alternate plan when another guy – Tanveer (the richest guy in class) approached me. He had a card in his hand, I noticed. I could barely manage a ‘hi’ – when he handed over the card to me. Since I had nothing better to do and desperately wanted to while away time looking busy and not bothered, I decided to read the card right away . It read “I never had the courage to say it, but since its farewell today, I couldn’t help but tell you that I love you, have loved you all along. But I always thought something might happen between you and Sagar. But since nothing has happened so far, you having maintained your stance of rejection for him, I thought I must let you know how I felt about you…”.

As I read, I could see Tanveer getting tensed from the corner of my eyes. I thought may be he is afraid of rejection. But in a moment I realized what was making him so tensed. I saw Sagar walking upto us. And before I could even read the rest of the note, he took the card from my hand, read the first sentence and suddenly caught Tanveer by the neck. Tanveer struggled and tried to hit back. But Sagar’s height and built was unmatchable so Tanveer gave in. One more blow, and Tanveer was on the ground. Girls started screaming as four other guys pulled Sagar away from Tanveer.

I was just too stunned. They took Sagar away and started to talk to him – all at once. He just looked down, still angry. I was still standing where I was. Not knowing what to do. Surprisingly no one thought I needed any help, so I quietly moved away and walked to the backyard. I was unable to decide how I was actually feeling at that time. I felt sorry for Tanveer and anger for Sagar. What was wrong with him? How dare he, he didn’t own me.

It was dark there and I was engrossed in my thoughts when I suddenly felt someone standing behind me – close, very close. I turned back, startled. It was Sagar. The anger in his eyes had vanished. It had all come in my eyes I think. I opened my mouth to blast him, but I had barely started with “What is your problem Sagar – “, he suddenly put his finger on my lip. That was the first time he had touched me – I mean in that way… I just froze… I kept staring at him, his eyes in mine… He then held me around my waist and pulled me even closer… his other hand was gently putting the curly strands of my hair away from my face.. I didn’t know what was happening, my hands and feet went cold and my knees felt like jelly. That was our first touch…. And I had to admit, it was better than anything I had ever felt earlier in my life. My anger had vanished and my face showed helplessness.. I didn’t move, I wanted to hug him, but my limbs had lost all connection to the brain. He then smiled.. a small, soft smile… A smile that said “See I got you!”…  He then whispered.. “I had come here to ask you something… to ask you for the last time if you had any feelings for me.. but I won’t ask it now”. I looked down and could only manage a meek “Why”… Putting his other arm also around me he said “Coz I think I have found out the answer”. He smiled again. I could feel some weird current flowing right through my heart. I was feeling so shy I couldn’t even look up. I knew he was right… He had got the answer and so had I J He then pulled my face up with his finger under my chin, and said “But still, I want to hear it from you” and then gave a wider grin.. This time it was naughty.. I could only manage a shy smile ..

I didn’t know what to say and before I could figure out, we heard footsteps. Someone was coming that way. I pulled myself away from him and ran away straight into the party, not having the courage to look at who had come, or even to look back at Sagar.. It was the happiest day of my life…

(more in my next post)…

Hiding tears in the rain !!

Jiya looked towards the lessening raindrops through the glass portico of the taxi. Rain was always her obsession; she could vividly associate her with it. Free flowing, charming and comforting; just like she was. She was completely lost witnessing the beauty of the shower when she suddenly saw the silver lining of distant thunder flashing at the horizon and the cracking sound followed soon, which evaporated her stupor. She looked towards the other corner of the backseat and found Amit too was looking towards the heavens through the portico. Jiya however was unable to deduce whether he too was absorbed in the beauty of the downpour or he was lost into someplace else within the dark distant sky.  Amit was the special one in her life; more prized than even whom everyone else thought to be the precious one. She shared a unique relationship, a special bond with him and the attraction of that bond was fatal. She always wanted to be alone with Amit for hours on such a rainy day. She had always canvassed a very sweet and colorful picture of such an occurrence and became happy every time she thought of it. May be God too nodded in approval as on that very day there was rain and she was all alone with Amit in a taxi zapping through the deserted highway towards the airport.

But was she happy? She looked towards the dribble on the wind screen and realized there was a nonstop deluge from her own drooling eyes. ‘The end is near,’ she thought – she was breaking up with Amit and she was into the last hour of their relationship and after that everything would be over. Jiya again looked towards Amit, expecting him to turn towards her and witness her dripping eyes. But not even for a second he took his eyes off the window. Jiya sighed and turned back towards the rain and recalled the rainy day when she first met Amit, exactly a year back.

That day Jiya came to airport to see off Akash, her fiancée, who was returning to the US for a year’s assignment. Their engagement happened a few days back, when Akash came down from Los Angeles, to attend the same. It was an arranged alliance; Akash’s family was a distant relative of Jiya’s father’s friend Mr. Gupta and in fact Gupta uncle was over joyous when the alliance matured claiming to be the chief patron and asking for a mega treat from both the parties. Jiya’s friends were not convinced though; not that Akash was a bad choice. He was an established management professional in one of the leading IT organizations of the world drawing such a hefty paycheck every month, which no one in India could ever imagine. He was good looking, sharp, trim and charming. But he only talked business; there was not even a hint of romanticism in his words as he already started planning for their honeymoon trip to make sure the cost was optimized! This is what bothered Jiya’s friends; they knew even if Jiya was apparently a timid girl but in her heart she was born romantic. Her bohemian mind was often wanderlust, travelling through the streets of the world of utopia. So it was an apparent risk of conflict when such a dreamer lands in the rough surfaces of reality, which is what Akash believed in. No wonder within that brief spell itself, Jiya understood that the chosen ‘prince charming’ was far from what she had expected; he did not believe in horse but horse power or never pondered if the streets of heaven were made of gold, rather he was more interested to get wrapped by gold. The color of his world was not passionate but strictly monitory. So when Akash was heading back to the US, Jiya wasn’t much bothered, she was worried that what will happen after he returns. She went to the airport alone to see off Akash, the way he wanted as he wanted to discuss important decisions to take post marriage, which no wonder were as stale as Akash’s priorities were.

Jiya did not even wait for a second after Akash passed through the security area. It was a late evening flight and the roads were deserted thanks to steady downpour. Jiya was stranded as there were no cabs and the handful ones that passed by had passengers already. She was desperate for a lift and tried to stop each and every cab that was passing by. It was all in vain and when the frustrated Jiya almost lost all hopes (cursing Akash in her mind), a taxi braked just in front of her. The backdoor opened and she saw a guy there waving towards her to step in. Jiya was skeptic and was not able to take a quick call on whether it would be safe to travel with a stranger alone in such a drenched state and that too that late in the evening. She stood there numb, when she heard, ‘Come in ma’am. Although I envy you for being so lucky to embrace these beautiful falling raindrops; but too much of it might be injurious to you considering the time and the space! And anyways I am not a carnivorous who can harm you, so don’t ponder, come in and be my guest.’ The words were enough for Jiya to finalize her mind. She chortled sweetly and got into the backseat. Within five more minutes she came to know that the person who impressed him on first sight was Amit Sharma.

Jiya was more than impressed with Amit during the first day itself; she discovered that Amit has an in and out romantic mind, he was creative, he was original and he valued relationship over wealth. By the time she got down at her place, they had already exchanged their phone numbers, email addresses and chat ids. Then started the saga, when Jiya’s day started by reading a sweet mail from Amit, followed by day long text messages which were beyond the cliché forward stuff but rather creative, innovative and romantic. Then there used to be quite a few phone calls that both of them made to each other, which slowly but steadily turned the wheel of fortune. They used to do late night chats, which started off normally but intensified multifold within the next couple of months. They used to share very personal stuff with each other and without knowing they crossed the classified boundaries. Jiya realized that Amit was the person he always dreamt about and not someone like Akash. She was astonished to spot the differences between the two even if they had near similar profession. She was lost in love with Amit and was searching desperately for a remote control which might rewind her life to the engagement date where she could refuse Akash and embrace Amit. However somehow she never mentioned about Akash or about her engagement to Amit; perhaps she was insecure!

Amit on the other hand was drenched deeply in love to Jiya. He too found a perfect companion in her; who would understand his passion and craze and also compliment him in each and everything he did. He proposed Jiya after ten months of courtship, in his own innovative way by gifting twenty three love jingles written for her on equal number of red rose petals on her twenty-third birthday. Jiya was overwhelmed; head over heels when she saw the gifts and was in no state to say anything. It was raining outside and sometimes there was the silver lining of distant thunder flashing at the horizon and the cracking sound followed. Amit took her silence as acceptance and sealed his proposal with a passionate smooch.The raindrops,the cracking sound and their closeness turned them on and what followed although was unexpectedly premature but neither of them had any powers to stop it happening. As the intensity of the rain got transformed into a storm, their passion also broke all barriers like a twister demolishing that comes in its way.

After that evening Jiya decided that Akash has to go from her life as she was completely lost into Amit. She decided to call off the engagement and although she knew by doing that her parents might face embarrassment (especially from the over enthusiastic Gupta uncle), yet she decided to execute the ultimate. Akash was nonexistent in her mind; who spoke  to her lesser than five times in ten months and every time they spoke it became a monologue as Akash tried to explain monitory benefits towards a few decisions he has taken and Jiya continued to dream about Amit. Jiya however decided to speak to Amit first before rejecting Akash as she felt it was then time to let Amit know about her alliance and engagement.

She revealed everything to Amit, holding his palm into her seated at their favorite lake front spot. Jiya noticed a complete desolated expression in Amit’s eyes; she was afraid perhaps witnessing to see the ruins of their dreams in Amit’s eyes. He left without saying a word and then did not contact her for almost a month. Meanwhile Jiya learnt that Akash was returning soon, so she asked Amit to meet her to arrive at a final decision. During the meeting Amit accused her for being completely dishonest to him and complained that she was playing with two lives. To him it was a sin from her end to have even encouraged Amit when she was already fiancée of Akash. He was shameful about the close moments they spent and guilty to have ruined Akash’s life by committing the eternal sin during her birthday. Jiya tried her best to make her case convincing but Amit was not in a mood to listen to anything. He broke the relation and left. After a few days he informed that he was relocating to a different city as Jiya’s memories all over the city was haunting him. Jiya requested him to take her as his companion for this one last trip on his way to airport. Amit was silent and finally granted the prayer.

Jiya came back to her senses as the cab driver honked at a careless guy running towards the airport gate with a luggage trolley. ‘So here we are; it’s all going to end now,’ she thought and watched Amit paying the driver his dues. They went out in the drizzle, walked towards the airport gate, side by side but without speaking even a word. ‘Amit, can’t we think it over again?’ Jiya whispered but there was no reaction from the man. He was about to pass the security cordon when suddenly Jiya clasped his palm and pleaded, ‘won’t you hug your sweety, for one last time?’ Amit released his hand and said, ‘It’s all over Jiya. Like a dead man a dead relationship never becomes alive again. Go home, my sweety is no more!’ He picked up his bag and took long strides towards the entrance. Jiya waited patiently anticipating Amit to turn back atleast once towards her. He passed the security gate but never looked back. He paused briefly before entering the security cordon. Jiya’s heart skipped a beat still hopeful that Amit to turn back finally. But it was not to happen; Amit took out the boarding pass from his pocket, displayed that to the guard and went in. Jiya looked on dejected; her heart was about to burst in pain as the last glimpse of Amit was gone. She stood there heads down, controlling her tears with a vicious effort. Suddenly she felt a tap on her shoulder. ‘I knew Amit will return,’ Jiya interpreted and turned back with a beam on her face. She was flabbergasted to see Akash, not Amit standing right in front of her. ‘What a pleasant surprise, honey. I never thought you will astonish me like this,’ Akash chortled. Jiya instantly remembered that indeed that was the day when Akash was supposed to return. She improvised promptly and said, ‘I was here for my life and I have found out where my real life is!’

First poem at first sight

Hey Ms, I saw you a day before
Which I cannot forget you forever

I am damn sure it was an evening
Please don’t relate it to logical reasoning

All of a sudden our eyes met instantly
Where I grabbed your attention constantly

My heart beat swung like an oscillator
Increasing zillion times a binary counter

You were expecting me to tell it ASAP
But this idiot toggled like a flip-flop

Finally I barked the 3 magical words
While you scrutinized the whole avenues

I may not be a Mr. Perfect
Though I am as active as a MOSFET

My hopes were like a weak transistor
You pulled me up by adding a resistor

Hope you remember the promises we made
Which resembles to an amplifier in cascade

Copyright of heart

What all I need,
Is just a copyright
Of your heart. 

To paint the sketch,
Of my dreams.
To listen, to the waves
When u breathe.

To sing the praises,
Using all the verses.
To step on my foot,
for your heart’s, beat.

To hold it with pride,
To show how rich I am.
A place of mine,
To stay ever and ever.

What all I need,
Is just a copyright
Of your heart.

True – Lies!

At last she was able to select a gift after an hour of startling window shopping. However she was not sure whether he will like it or not.  With fluttering butterflies in her stomach, she went to the park, where finally they were destined to meet after 3 long years.

She got married to Abhi couple of years back. Not that she was head over heels about that, yet her life maintained status quo until one day Karan came back. Karan was her boyfriend for a decent period during her pink age but due to family constraints they were compelled to become travelers of two paths diverged. It was extremely difficult for her, Jiya, to forget Karan, thanks to those wonderfully passionate and intimate moments they shared during the purple patch of their relationship. Within a year’s time Jiya had to prepare herself to tie the knot with the “most eligible one” chosen and approved by her parents, who wanted her to settle down.

Jiya with time compromised with the situation and slowly became involved in her life post marriage. Abhi, her husband proved to be a really caring and loving man. However Jiya could never love him as she did love Karan. Yet the life was smooth; her home, a caring husband in Abhi and her office became her life. One day, a friend from Jiya’s office wanted her to take a peek at  her would be husband as she took out a photo from her purse and handed it over to Jiya. She cared for a glimpse and instantly froze dumbstruck recognizing the person in the photo. Needless to mention, it was Karan. Her life took a U turn when she and Karan came across each other in the birthday party of their common connection. From then Karan and Jiya stayed connected through mails, late night chats and calls. Jiya noticed that her suppressed emotions, feelings were oozing with passion. She again started to build castles in the air and the same feeling of floating on to cloud nine resumed. One day Karan asked her out, “Let’s meet sweets!”  She was excited to hear the word sweets, her pet name given by Karan when they first time acknowledged their affair. Jiya was very excited and gleefully accepted the proposal; since then she started to paint the city in the color of her passion.

Karan came to the park after almost an hour past the scheduled meeting time. Jiya had a long day at office, and then she went shopping to pick the best gift for him. Even though she was exhausted, she waited for him to come, deeply lost into her past;  images came flashing into her mind one after the other; each one equally romantic and passionate. It was getting late but she hardly minded as she was in no hurry to return home. She desperately wanted to be with Karan as long as possible, even for the entire night as Abhi was not in town. She was still engulfed into her adventurous thoughts, virtually feeling Karan’s presence; his touch and kisses all over like he used to do. “Indeed he was the king of good times,” Jiya thought and chuckled in her mind. Suddenly she felt a tap on her shoulder, she turned back and it was Karan.

Karan said, “Hey sweets; I got stuck in an urgent official work!” Jiya shrugged and gave an expression to suggest that it was fine. They exchanged a quick hug and then they both walked  inside the park in quest of an isolated place and sat side by side when they found one. It was getting dark to darker and Jiya was in anticipation that something might happen soon. Suddenly Karan wrapped his left arm around her shoulder and lifted her chin with his right hand and lowered his face. They were almost within kissing distance when Jiya closed her eyes, her cerise lips trembling in fervor urging to get locked by his lips. Moments passed nothing happened; Jiya opened her eyes and saw Karan staring at her. “Still mesmerized by my beauty,” Jiya thought looking at Karan and broke into a sweet mirth. “Hey, what are you looking at, so intensely?”asked Jiya. Karan did not answer but to her surprise came up with the most unexpected query, “Hey what you like about Abhi?”

Jiya was hit by a bulldozer. She did not know how to react to this. However she recovered her composure and promptly came up with the truthful answer. “Abhi is a very handsome and very good by heart,” she commented. “I am not claiming that he is a poster boy of any sorts but he indeed has a pleasing personality; everyone around him is very fond of him thanks to his versatile talents and extraordinary IQ. He has done a lot for me and genuinely loves me.” Karan did not show any reaction and swayed away from her. Jiya was wondering what will happen next when Karan suddenly commented, “Sweets you have lost your charm. You looked far more ravishing before marriage, when I was charming you.” Jiya was utterly confused upon hearing that and thought how someone’s look can change so drastically with time! She still had the same eyes, same nose, same face and the same crimson lips. One can either lose or gain weight and that can only make the difference, if at all. In Jiya’s case even that was not true as she was still equally appealing, which she knew by seeing the love in Abhi’s eyes and lust in the eyes of quite a few others.

Jiya said to Karan that she had bought a gift for him to celebrate their reunion after 3 long years. Karan however surprised her by saying that he cannot take it. He further clarified that he was in no mood to complicate things by doing this. Jiya was visibly upset but it seemed nothing bothered Karan. After a few minutes however Karan suddenly asked Jiya to show the gift to him. Jiya sighed in relief and thought finally things might turn her way and handed over the packet to him. Karan opened the gift wrap and found a branded watch in there. He took time to examine it very minutely and then handed it back to Jiya and said, “I told you sweets I simply cannot take it. Maybe you should give it to any of your cousins!” Jiya was completely shattered and felt a valiant slap of insult on her face. She stood up to leave and said, “I guess this relation will not work out,so lets stop being in touch!” Jiya was astonished to spot Karan’s indifference and his passive agreement to the proposal even without protest. Jiya walked out of the park and she threw  Karan out from her life as she headed home, confused, rattled and with a bleeding heart.

That night her eyes poured and she did not even attempt to cease the flow of tears down her cheek. She felt remorse for wasting couple of months for Karan, who never seemed to have any feeling left for her. She felt terrible for being unfaithful to Abhi, the person for whom Jiya was the world. She became depressed acknowledging that she was running behind a glittering image of lie at the expense of the eternal truth.

Next day when Abhi was back home, Jiya went up to him and hugged him tight and whispered in his ears, “I am sorry honey, I am all yours; I love you Abhi, you are the best part of me”. Abhi still in her embrace felt that she was sobbing. He kissed on her forehead and asked, “Hey what happened all of a sudden?” Jiya did not reply but provided an enigmatic smile almost saying, “How does it matter?” She came closer to him and stood on his toes. Instantly their lips locked and it remained locked for quite a while … may be till eternity!

This unending pain- A Poem

“This unending pain,

Is taking my breath away,

I loved all,

I swear.


My silence is echoing in my heart,

This pain will forever last.


They have put a full stop on my feelings,

I am now left with day dreaming.


I am not what I used to be,

And this blame is also put on me.


This fatigue is taking my life away,

I am still worried for him,

Without me,

He will not be able to stay.


My efforts are a time waste,

And my life has lost its taste.


This unending pain,

Is taking my breath away,

I loved all,

I swear.”