Fire

Yellow waves
Erupting out of wood
Shining
Shimmering
Spreading
Towards oil
Just hungry
Like man

Red at the root
Blue somewhere
Black soot it leaves
Green with copper
Pink with other chemical
Invisible sometimes
All burns scathingly

Disfigure, deface
The heat does
Ugly, maimed
It leaves

Flames
They are beautiful
Jumping, flowing
You may play
But don’t tease
Watch them
Dancing
To its own tune

Blood

Blood scares
Makes me sick
Pukish, dizzy
Once I fainted
In pathology lab

His blood !
Thrilled me
Pressed the wound
To play with it
Applied to my hands
Dark red it was
Marked lines
On my face
Blood soaked
Commando
I am now
Astringent it tasted

Lying
Beside the blood
Light shimmered
Gleamed my eyes
Satisfied I felt

Police came
I closed the door
To feel the warmth
To make more
Of the moment
A memory
Bloody one

They asked
Are you mad
I said Yes !
For the blood
Which boiled
So much
But now
It will not…

Silence of the dark

Batteries drained
And wall clock
Stopped

Dark night
Became silent
It was just heart
Beating for me

Moon is missing
Maybe hiding
Scared
To witness
What quiteness does

Stars
Partner in crime
With sins
Of soul

Wild thoughts emerged
To break the silence

Shatter glass
Of houses
Or cars

Put on fire alarm
Ring the bells
Call cops
Or ambulance

Burst crackers
Drop flower pots
Or utensils from top

Blow horn, trumpet
Or play loud music

Poke the neighbour dog
He will wake up
Whole neighborhood

Atleast someone
Will give me batteries
So I can sleep
The tik-tok is
My lullaby

‘Bewafa’ Biscuit

The story starts
When she thought
It’s dirt on my hand
Which actually was
Half melted chocolate

Got impressed
To find that I am
Baker by profession
Cakes, cookies, crispies
Are my bread & butter

Special request were made
Extra efforts were put in
Bakery oozed new aroma
When flavours of food
Mixed with perfume

Innovative recipes were tried
New varieties were born
Shapes of love were designed
Thoughtful packings came up
The shop became love hub

Only to find
That biscuits are
Fueling love
In which
She is burning
For a biker

She just
Changed a syllable
Of vocation
But
I changed
My business
Now no more
Sweet biscuits
They turn you
‘Bewafa’

Divorce in Live-in

Love is everywhere. Every second is filled with love. Every thing oozes love. I never imagined love to be so beautiful. I would have died bereft of these feeling if it is not for her. It was literally falling in love when I collapsed on her while entering pool from a water ride. It was love at first sight. She looked so beautiful from close by. I didn’t realise her accompanying us on picnic until that moment. She was friend of a colleague. She was as beautiful as her name Zubeida. We started with apology which turned into endless chats and later into eternal love. We were either on phone or market or movie or metro. Even in my sleeps, I dreamt about her. Since we shared the same feelings, it was mutual decision to live-in together. Because every moment without her seems wasted. We gelled into each other so well like pieces of puzzles finding it’s match. Our family prodded us for marriage but we did not want to put any tag on our love nor any boundations. We wanted 24 karat pure love.

She was a painter. Nature being her favorite topic, we designed our home with plant in every corner. She said oxygen will nourish our bodies. We got cane furniture and bamboo crockery to compliment the pots. At home, we dressed in our birth suit blessed by nature. We mostly had organic fruits and salads. We massaged each other and transcended to our inner souls by holding hands in yoga. We meditated by uniting our bodies following the ancient scripture of Kamasutra.

Time passed like snap of finger. Her paintings are being exhibited and appreciated widely. She is getting numerous offers. Among them best is from international channel who is planning to starting a comic strip for increasing interest of public about conservation of wildlife and forest in association with a UN body. She will be required to travel around the country first and may be world later to cover the nuances of nature and depict the purity. This is once in a life time opportunity.

She is exhilarated about it. As the new job will keep her away from me for long periods, I asked her about us. Her excitement is so high that she is peeved by my question.

She abruptly said “I want divorce”

I am taken aback and it just came of out of mouth “But Zubi , we are not married”

She replied “I have read that Court consider Live-in as marriage. So give me divorce along with my share of things or I will go court and ask for it” and took off.

My life has turned upside. Suddenly the plants seem to turn pale. Seeing the bamboo crockery, I felt like a panda. I wanted to put my home on Australian fire. But I had to find a lawyer now and check for divorce in live-in relationship.

While asking references for a divorce lawyer, first question that popped is “Why do you need one ?” When I told them the situation, there was silence of shock and sometimes muffled up laughter on other end of phone. During the meeting with lawyer too, I could see her face expression confused between awe and mock on listening the facts. She somehow kept her professionalism and told me that there seem to be no precedents of such a situation. If it’s done with mutual understanding then there are no hassles. However in court things will become messier but something new will come out of it which will be a landmark for future generations.

Taking into account the reaction of people till now, I decided to talk with Zubi and sort out mutually by giving up my right in whole of our homemade jungle. Else I will become a headline, breaking news, topic of editorials, live debates. In short a laughing stock of the country.

करवटे !

ये बदलतीं करवटे बता रही है
की आँख बंद करके कोई जाग रहा है
चादर पर अब सिलवटों की जगह नही बचीं हैं
बिस्तर काँपने लगा है,
लट्टे बिखर गयी है,
अंधेरा रोशन हो गया है,
घड़ी की टिक टिक गूंज रही है
धड़कनों से ताल मिला रही है
पर दिल अब समय से तेज़ चल रहा है,
बाँहे बेसब्र है इस सब्र से,
की तकिया का अब काम नही रहा है,
सड़क से एकाएक मोटर की आवाज़ दहकती है,
चौकीदार की सीटी सवधान करती है,
ये रात की खामोशी बेचैन करती है,
क्या कोई और भी कही जगा है,
क्योंकि सुबह अब क्षितिज के पार लगती है,

Love maggi

Like strands of our favorite maggi gets entangled into each other. Our love life too got mixed up. We are group of five friends, Amrita or Amy, Revti as Ray, Paridhi as Pary, Anirudh as Andy and me, Saurabh as Sebu.
Being in missionary school, our names got baptized.

Andy is coolest one, keeps himself busy in gym and sports. He doesn’t understand love and emotions. But as a hunk he attracts lot of attention and enjoys the limelight.

Pary is similiar. She is a guitarist, singer and song writer, a band in herself. Her tattoos are a book of philosophy.

Amy and Ray are toppers, sincere, focused, goal setters and achievers. While I, Sebu, has no such traits. Maybe its the reason I am writing about others life.

School was a jolly time. There were no worries except exam. We used to live in the same neighbourhood and available to each other for 24 hours. College may have created distance in kilometres but not in our heart. We kept in touch and met each other on holidays. But honeymoon of the life got over after we entered the race of bread and butter. Andy joined his family business. Pary followed her dream to pursue career in music. Me and Amy joined different company in same city while Ray worked in same company as Amy but located farthest of all. We continued to be together through whatsapp, concalls, vacations. I had been organising everything since school and may be the gel which kept our group together.

When the discussion for nuptials began at home, I felt differently toward my friends. For me Amy, Pary and Ray are suddenly not friends but girls. Since me and Amy are in same city, we meet quite frequently. When I tried to woo her, she snubbed me and even complained to Ray as I am closest to her. Ray only prompted me to ask out Amy. She even pushed me to Pary. But Pary being a free bird, did not believe in marriage or relationships. She is having time of her life in Mumbai.

After getting shoved by Amy, I was shaken. Later Amy confessed to Ray that she has crush on Andy since school days. Ray prodded me to ask Andy. Doing as instructed, I realised that he is no more a playboy and wanted to settle down. He liked Amy too but couldn’t express his feelings as he is afraid of losing friendship. None of us knew of about the coffee brewing under over noses. We finally became the matchmaker between Andy and Amy. To give back the favour, Andy and Amy tried to get me and Ray together. I was elated when Andy asked me about her because I was closest to Ray. But she never replied to this proposal. Finally I gathered the courage to face her directly. She reprimended me badly. I was shattered to pieces. Later Amy got to know that Ray and Pary are gay and have hots for each other since realisation of sexuality. Now section 377 being legalised they will be open about their relationship.

The news dropped on me like a nuclear bomb. I felt jealous and embarrassed. Not even a single girl of three is interested in me. Am I that bad ? If my childhood friends don’t find me good enough, how will any other girl? This love maggi is disgusting. It has become a khichdi.

I isolated myself by quitting the WhatsApp group and stopped picking up calls. I avoided them even on home visits. As dust was settling inside me, one fine Friday evening all four of them suddenly appeared in my office so that I do not create any scene. After winding up the week, they kidnapped me. They tied my hands and gagged my mouth. Nobody uttered a word. After a long drive, we reached our hometown before dawn but did not go home. I panicked, jumped, cried but none of them reacted. I had to give them signs that nature is calling continuously. The boys accompanied me, pulled my pants and ordered to do my business before them. It felt like a prisoner of war and wanted to proclaim my rights under Geneva Convention.

While we were waiting outside the park near our neighbourhood, a familiar face was approaching with light of the day. It was my neighbour Parul. She was blushing but shocked to see me tied. It was than anyone spoke for the first time since evening and told me how she had childhood crush on me which I did not notice. They found out when Parul met them in a marriage party in our locality and enquired about me. They kept quite about the whole situation while she continued saying how I was always busy with them and ignoring others. She also noticed my unusual behaviour during recent home visits. After she left, her abnormal inquisitiveness raised doubts among them. The group ganged up. They met Parul again and kind of interrogated her. She gave in about her interest in me. Then this plan was hatched by the gang for making up to me and that’s the reason I am tied up before her like a prisoner.

Andy, Amy, Pary and Ray said in unison “Thank us later in evening when we welcome new member to the gang. Till then both of you can fulfill your appetite of love.” It is best surprise of my life. Love maggi is not that bad after all.

दिल की सिगरेट

मैंने जिससे मोहब्बत की
उसने मेरी अरमानों को
जली हुई सिगरेट के टुकडे की तरह
पैरों तलों रौंद दिया
मेरे फेफड़े भी जल गए
दिल भी टूट गया

वो कहती है की
उसने तो ऐसा कुछ नही जताया
अरे तो फिर ये धुंआ क्यों उड़ाया

वो शायद
दिल की सिगरेट पीने का शौक रखती है

इस शौक से फेफड़े तो पता नही
उसका दिल ज़रूर मर गया है

Mea culpa

I regret that moment,

The moment you
were disappointed,
got angry,
became despair,
gave up,
moved on,

You may have
grumbled curses under your breath,
hit me an invisible bludgeon,
kicked in the shin,
punched in the stomach,
thrown water on my face,

I wish you to have done it all,
shouted in place of deafening silence,
reprimanded rather than ignoring,
broke bones instead of hopes,
slapped as opposed to staring,
unleashed your wrath,

Atleast you would have spat,
the venom of bitternes,
latched the broken chains,
dumped the past,
moved to sort differences,
ironed out the wrinkles,

And healed our relation
the Japanese way,
mending cracks with gold,
ornated with fine shining lines,
the pot of relationship,
brandishing unbreakable bond,

Neither one of us is perfect,
but imperfection binds us,
the acceptance of errors,
differentiates us,
each anomaly is a stepping stone ,
to reach acme of Xanadu.

Love in times of corona

Today is our 20th wedding anniversary. We planned to have our customary dinner date. Considering our work schedule, the dinners are rare occasion. I being a marketing man and she working as consultant,  airports, cabs & hotels started giving us homely feeling. But due to Corona fear, the business has slowed down. With time available in excess now, I decided to prepare dinner at home itself. It has been long since I have picked up ladle and knife in kitchen. I had to depend my maid to locate things. But my hands still knew how to make the signature dishes Malai Kofta, Pyaz Pulav, Bharva Bhindi, Lachchha Paratha and Sevaiyon ki kheer. The aroma of spices made me nostalgic. It took me to early years of marriage when I wooed her by cooking skills. How she used to sit on kitchen shelf, irritating me by hiding things or finding faults in my methods. Once she handed me amchoor powder instead of garam masala and whole gravy was ruined. We had to eat maggi. But with love in the air, that too felt like having a Valentine’s dinner.

It’s ancient history now. After we lost our child due to one of these mysterious fevers, we became mute and kind of blamed ourselves. We reminded each other of the tragedy so immersed ourselves in work and started travelling extensively to avoid home. We looked for peace outside or became accustomed to agitation inside us, it’s incomprehensible. 

She returned from office with plan to dine out  as usual. As she entered home, she was surprised to smell the aroma and shockingly asked me “What are you doing, Uday ?

I welcomed her with Thandai and told her “Hi Roshni, the meeting got cancelled so I came early and thought of cooking at home for change”

She replied “We could have gone to a restro. Why did you take all the trouble ?”

Things had become so dead that any uprising of emotions was resisted. We feared that even an iota love will bring back the dark memories.

I replied her “I have prepared restro like food. You freshen up. I will prepare the parathas”

She said “Wait, don’t make all of them at once. You cook them too much and it becomes like papad.”

And the nagging was back. But the old times too. She was happy to see the spread on table but resisted the expression. We were cooking together. That was some global warming to our arctic iceberg. I wished her Happy Anniversary with spoon full of sevaiyan. Tears welled up in her eyes. It was time of emotional.turmoil. I too became sentimental and we consoled each other. We had never cried together. I believe sometimes tears are necessary to wash off the past. It’s an irony how a deadly virus revived love which was killed by another of its kind.