You are Beautiful.

I will shed your specious cloak
Peel off the garish mask
I will strip you naked of your ambitions
To be the cynosure of amorous eyes
I will straddle across you obdurate
And grip your face with my fingers
Till your eye-paint streaks your face
Till your lip colour smudges your cheek
With the alpenglow of your nose
I will moor you down
And grapple your greedy hands
I’ll plunge open your wanton heart
And mutilate your gaudy bias
I will be brusque and rough
And laugh at your nakedness
Then satisfied I’ll fall back
When I render you shorn
And win this sciamachy
Then I’ll look at you
Just as you are
With your anima back
You are so beautiful.

The bride to Be! Part-2

           ...Previously

As she turned to the full-sized mirror and started slipping on the bangles, she noticed the lone gold band on her left finger. It had a ‘R’ & ‘A’ entwined engraving. Another one of his insignia of love for her. Many major decisions had been considered playing with it. Slipping in and out, swiveling on the finger, and trying it on other fingers to check the fit.

One such day, playing with it, she had asked Rajat,
‘What if your parents disapprove?’ angst clouding her face.
‘They will not. I promise you. I love you a lot. And they love me. They’ll understand.’
This dispelled all her fears and she was again basking in his love, all irrational concerns thrown to the wind. His candid, modest smile which always conveyed, ‘I’m lucky to have you’, melt her heart.

But not long before, she had become irritable. Annoyed easily, snapping at anyone who tried to engage in a talk with her. Her taciturn temperament was inferable but unacceptable by her friends. They worried. They tried to divert her from both the extremes, either her staccato conversations or her dour tempers. But Rajat had salvaged her, from the wreck she could have become. She felt calmer, stronger and invincible with him. He had become the music to her that she always hummed. He was there. He was, well, he was hers.

She put their favourite instrumental tracks on repeat on her music system and started stowing things around, putting the room in order. She had never been in love before, never wanted to be. Nobody had quite met the standards of her tragic heroes of yore. And neither did Rajat. He never tried to match up to her fantasy apotheosis. But she was smitten. He came like a surprise which she never realized she missed till he came!

She walked to the table. The card was done in silver, just as she wanted. And had a blue ribbon tied at the front. She gently pulled it to open the card. It had their photos as she had planned. He looked his usual immaculate charming self, reserved, with the shy smile. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. But the other picture, she didn’t quite like. She touched lovingly on his name that was embossed in gold. RAJAT. Yes, Rajat, she thought, elation twinkling in her eyes.

She didn’t want to wait. She had to hear him now. He was on her phone’s speed dial. It rang twice before a woman answered.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, may I speak to Rajat?’
‘Ya, he’s getting ready. Just a minute.’
‘Hi. Rajat.’ He said.
‘Hi!
‘Hey, hi! So good to hear you.’
‘How’s the groom getting ready?’
He smiled, ‘Ya, am almost ready. Are you ready? When will you be starting? You have to reach the venue before 2, ok?’
 ‘Ya, desperate fella’ she chided laughing, ‘I’ll be there before 2, to welcome the groom.’
He laughed, and continued, ‘And thanks. Really, I mean it. Thanks a lot for understanding. I tried my best, but it was contrary to their reason. But you understood. You were my support. You’re the best!’
‘You like her, right?’
‘Yes. Anwesha is a nice girl. My parents are very happy.’
‘Ya, that’s what matters the most. I’ll hang up now and see you soon.’
‘Yes, come soon.’

She disconnected, and looked at her phone wallpaper. It had her father’s inspiring words for two of his favourite ladies, her sister and she- “STRONG GIRLS DON’T CRY”. She shut her eyes tight, trying to keep a check on all the mingled feelings that were trying to gush out. ‘I won’t papa, I won’t’, she recited.

Jigyasa entered the room again, now calling all the friends one by one, to meet at some place. From there, they would travel together. She heard her arguing, pestering, and doing what not, just to ensure that all reach on time. ‘You have some time?’ she asked Jigyasa.
‘I have all the time. Why don’t these damn people get it? When you’re given a time, you ought to keep it! How do you expect me to manage?’ Jigyasa was fuming.

‘I want to visit my family’, she said calmly.
‘We are already running slightly late’, Jigyasa looked anxious. ‘No problem, we’ll manage, you go’, she said after a moment, smiling.
‘And please try to be soon’ Jigyasa called out as she dashed out the door, lifting her saree till ankles to avoid tripping.

Her friends knew. This was her tribute, her way of keeping her family involved in all decisions of her life. Before any major occasion, she’d slip away to the cemetery for some time.

She clicked the key into the ignition of her Honda and steered out to the petrol station just round the corner. She held out the credit card between two fingers and said ‘Tank full’. ‘Yes, ma’m’ came the reply and her card was swiped. She hit the reverse gear and swept a smooth turn. Then flipping her mobile out the car, she buzzed the window shut, and drove away.

After about 90 minutes of frantic searches and calls to a ‘not reachable’ cell-phone number, Jigaysa slumped on her bed, only to find a wedding card half concealed under the pillow, that read, ‘Rajat weds Anwesha’. That wedding was today at 2.

But hadn’t Ananya said she’d have to acquiesce,  since nothing could be done about Rajat’s parents not approving of them? Hadn’t Ananya finally agreed to her marry her colleague? And hadn’t Ananya wanted the engagement to be today?  But Ananya had already gone by then.

The Bride to Be! Part-1

She woke up at half past five. Though the alarm was set at seven and the wedding was at two. This was the day she had been waiting for. In fact, this is the day any girl awaits, with palpating anticipation.

She stretched lazily after the few hours of sleep she had managed, due to the exhaustion. But last night, she had struggled to sleep. She couldn’t stop smiling as she lay on the bed looking around her room for the last time.

Her eyes fell on the bedside table. On it stood a crystal vase with a bunch of wilted, dry roses. It was difficult to say which colour those roses would have been. But the memory of them was as fresh as they once were.

It was the day after he had proposed. He had got her this bunch of fresh, red, half-bloomed roses. She had excitedly taken the bouquet and retorted, it was not Valentine’s yet. To which he had replied, “It’s a valentine’s day, every day, with you in my life. I can’t wait for some bullshit day to show you that I love.” Thus, three years had passed.

They had planned on today’s date from a long time. 17th of April. It used to be her father’s birthday. The thought of him no longer made her funereal. Though, she felt extremely sad, not being able to introduce Rajat to him. Her dad would have been so proud and happy. Though the thought of him never failed to lacerate her, in good and bad times alike, Rajat was her panacea. Now he had become the one she could run to. Whenever, whatever, he was there.

But nothing was same after that night; when she was informed that her family had been the victim of a gruesome accident. She was rushed to the hospital by some neighbours. But her intuition screamed, she wouldn’t be able to talk to her parents and sister anymore. Her world had crashed around her, even before she reached the hospital. And she alone had to bear it.

Her uncle had entered the cold storage room first and confirmed their identities. She barely managed to snoop through the limited confines of a tiny window on the heavy door. Then she nervously entered the morgue. Three bodies were placed side by side. The white sheets covering the corpses were blotted red in places. The room reeked of blood and maybe preservatives too. She had to be carried out by two nurses, and given a couple of band-aids.

A year passed before she rejoined work. Jigyasa, her friend from school had moved in with her, when she came to work in the same city. The melancholies of life had dragged her rough, and tenaciously slow. She was just not her, the incestuous lady that reflected in the mirror. She was maimed beyond her own admittance.

But not today. She jumped out of bed and did a slow dance around the room. She thought she could smell his debonair fragrance. The thought of him made her hug herself in glee. She was feeling unusually shy today, thinking about him. Oh! My man, she thought. How, within a matter of months he had become the world, she had been trying to evade!

She picked the newspaper lying at the foot of her main door, and quickly opened to the page with the section she considered bestiary. But not Rajat. He followed it daily with an almost pious allegiance. ‘Steer clear of rash decisions. Consider your options before taking the plunge. Not a good day to be alone.’ This was the loud warning under her sun sign. She crumpled the paper and murmured, ‘Not today, honey. Not today.’

She ran to her cupboard. On the wall beside it, hung a large frame. The photo in it, was in contrasting sepia tones. It was their Ooty visit. Overwhelmed by his constant presence, and absorbing love, she had confessed ‘You’re like a dream to me.’ He had playfully he pinched her cheeks hard. ‘Oww’ she squealed. ‘No, I’m not’ he had grinned. And a friend had clicked.
 
She carefully brought down her wedding attire. It was a baroque lehenga, which her mother had worn during her wedding. She lifted it out slowly from the heavy box and observed it close, feeling its intricate patterns with her fingers. The rich crimson silk was overlaid with intricate gold motifs and glittering stones. She wished her mother was there to help her wear it properly, and then look on with pride, at what her little girl had become.

Jigyasa knocked and barged in before she could answer, and froze at the door. ‘You’re looking b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l’, Jigyasa muttered slowly, looking stunned. She stood blushing, trying to hold her saree pleats in place and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
‘Now that you’re ready, let me call the others, so that we can start.’
‘I still have to do my hair’ she meekly appealed.
‘Take your time sweetheart." Jigyasa smiled, "You’re already looking a gem. I don’t know what more you can do. But I won’t interfere.”

                                                                                                                Concluding...

Of Chinese on Banana leaves..

A long bus ride through the rugged roads of Tamil Nadu had left me craving for some exquisite French cuisine. Which was natural, as I had come to the ‘Europe of India’- Pudducherry.

Instead I had to settle for a restaurant famous for its Chettinad cuisine. And it has branches in Dubai & Singapore as well! Set before me was a banana leaf. I ordered for Chinese Chicken fried rice, which the waiter promptly got me. I looked helplessly as he placed the bowl of steaming fried rice before me and walked away. I was expecting him to replace the leaf with a plate, perhaps. Looking around embarrassed, I served myself on the banana leaf. And when I saw nobody noticing the weirdness, I confidently started eating. Soon the waiter returned, offering me a side dish. I thought to myself, what had I to lose anyways? I let him suggest, to which he promptly said- Chettinad chicken was their speciality. And within no time, I was mixing the chicken gravy with my fried rice and eating from my leafy platter. And this was just the beginning of my Pondy-trip.

Pondicherry has an exciting assortment of beaches, each unique and beautiful in itself. The Rocky beach, also known as the Gandhi beach has boulders, on which the sea waves crash. And running parallel is the Promenade. It is a wonderful place by day, and more so by night, when it is closed to vehicles. People come to casually stroll there under the warm orange street lights, with the noisy dark sea on one side and fancy eateries on the other, offering the perfect way to retire for the day.

 A small motor boat takes you through a creek to the Paradise beach. And when you step on the white sand, you realise, it truly is its namesake. A board declaring-Welcome to Paradise Beach, sweeps you into the cool embrace of the deep blue waters. The dwarf coconut trees make a perfect shade to sit & picnic around. There are also some thatched cottages where people can relax. They also have some make-shift changing rooms.  A small eatery, selling cold-drinks & snacks, completes the perfect setting. Look around you and you’ll see only water. Jump into the sea for a bath. A couple of police securities, with whistles are also posted, to keep a watch that nobody swims too deep. A good long ride back to the city on the hired moped dries you of the salty sea water.

The famed Aurobindo Ashram is close to the Gandhi beach. Set amidst a tranquil neighbourhood, it is a small building. You can almost go past it without it catching your attention. As you enter through its humble doors, you instantly soak in the quietness, as the disciples show you directions about the ashram, in hushed tones. It has lots of photographs and books by Aurobindo Ghosh & the Mother, his spiritual collaborator. You come out feeling, having entered another dimension.

A long (I mean really long) ride takes you away from the city to the township of Auroville. It has settlements and dwellers and shops, and is hard to ascertain exactly from where the establishment begins. The main attraction is the much hyped, and very aptly so, the Matrimandir. This golden dome is huge and grand to the sight, but unfortunately allows only those serious about meditating. But a cultural centre gives you all the details about the inside of this mysterious structure. And it’s fascinating. It also has a huge banyan tree, which is the geographic centre of the township. And this isn’t just a tree; it has buttress roots and aerial roots covering extensive area and looks like an old, gigantic tree stooping over many barks for support. Few minutes ride from here is the Auroville beach. This is a conventional sandy beach like any of our east-Indian beaches, with hawkers selling hats and goodies on the embankment. Getting a splash here is almost mandatory, because it’s a safe beach.

Pudducherry is a calm city with friendly, cooperative people. From the typical south-Indian snacks to the tasteful Fresh cuisine, and to the evergreen Pizzas, you’ll be spoilt for choice of food. Life takes a very relaxed pace as you set your foot in Pondy! Not only for tourists, but the people there also have shaken off the hurriedness, which is such a common plague in any city.

Verdict- Must visit!

A Place Called HOME!

It is a matter of great pride that Indian minds are among the brightest in the world. But it is also a matter of utter shame that in India itself, young students are so pressurized that they choose to rather give up their lives, than (even) see their results.

A recent news article highlights this.

Our dreams for them are so big that their inability to achieve those dreams makes them totally insignificant in their very own eyes. Are we stretching it a bit too far?

Atrocities on kids are something we are highly concerned about, especially with the recent increase in the same. Let’s put little extra effort to save them from parent pressure, which leads them to inflicting punishment on themselves. And this is significantly high in the southern region, which has a higher education rate compared to the rest of India. 

We argue, that it’s for their good we ask them to study. But how do we ask that? Do we emotionally blackmail them? Do we compare them with their fellow students & humiliate them? Do we shove the burden of our reputation upon their little shoulders? An eye-popping statistical report shows 40% student suicides in India alone.

To all the talented (in their own way) students who have high potential in their lives, I have some questions. How important are you? How do you access your unworthiness? Who gives you the right to take away your life? You didn’t choose to come into this world. You can’t justify taking it away. More so, for a petite reason like marks. The world will not collapse

Why don’t we encourage students who haven’t got excellent marks in 10th/12th to look beyond and pursue a career path they might excel at? We tend to become so obsessed with meagre figures that we fail to see that our kids might be excelling at something else. It could be sports, it could be music. But do we care? Some parents do cross the fine line between discipline & despotism, who make their wards take a plethora of classes to excel at everything!

 I definitely don’t commend kids who have been assured of immense family wealth that they conclude that education is not important. Education is the foundation of a person’s identity. It refines character. But is definitely not more important than life!

 Why is it so important to take pride in our children’s achievements that we utterly forget to cherish them? Which parent would agree that they would rather have an academically outstanding child than no child at all?

Let’s give them a place to return to, no matter what they have done-home!

The Luxury of Indian Railway!

One thing led to another and the responsibility of getting a ticket for myself landed on me.

If you have the power to know your whereabouts after about 4 months, book your train tickets in utmost comfort without competition. But if you are like me, with out-of-the-blue plans have a fat wallet (for flight). Booking a tatkal ticket is not everybody’s piece of cake. Very recently, I joined this elite group. It cost me one and a half weeks of emotional oscillation between enthusiastic hope and utter despair.

You might wonder why I didn’t just opt for a flight. Well, you see, by looking at the subsequent week’s air fares, I realised that amount could take me on an international trip to a nearby country.

Initially the agent tried for a few days. I guess he wasn’t assured enough commission for his efforts, because (I’m sure), he tried for tatkal atleast an hour after the sale started. My patience ran out. The wait made me sick (actually). Then I was asked to step in.

Each morning the struggle began. As the days passed, strategies were devised to maximise the chances of booking, in the minimum time that’s available. Approach was decided the night before. Tactics made, tactics rejected.

Based on the trend observed, I’d like to give some pointers to newbies:

    ·         Login atleast 30 mins before Tatkal booking begins. The more you delay the more difficult it becomes to even log into your account.

    ·         If the availability has considerable reduced, don’t test your luck. You may end up paying service charges for no service at all.

    ·         When you see tickets available & proceed with booking, the website does not block a berth. There maybe atleast ‘n’ number of people booking for the same berth, at the same time!

    ·         Even if you get beyond the booking page with sufficient tickets available, there are high chances you might get stuck on that page till all tickets are sold out. I doubt the website’s increased bandwidth claims.

    ·         Form filled, ready to pay? Captcha stuck. Refresh. Reload. Refresh. Availability- waitlisted.

The demand is enormous, the supply is miserable. One of the most used websites in the country is flawed! Sometime after the railway website starts showing on your ‘most visited’ list, you’ll be lucky.

The only advice from an experienced (by implementing all strategies) is- pray before you log in. The day you will be able to successfully login, book & finally travel is already decided. :)

Just got Raped.

Yeah..our Judicial system, the police force & especially the herd that sits in the Parliament. What a shame duty has to take. What a shame to offer (as opposed to the usual ‘norm’ around here, of taking) money to keep mum. How would a mom keep mum? How would anybody keep mum? The nation is once again in uproar. The policy-makers, rule-changers & corruption-breeders are holed up inside their forts, protected by layer after layer of security.

What made them go soft on the rapists? What made them treat these worse-than-savage-ogres to a 3 square meals a day with a high end secure place to stay, where, maybe they think back upon their barbaric act with amusement & feel safe from the raging crowd outside, jostling to tear their limbs apart?

 These are wanton demons walking around in guise of a regular & typical commoner, eyeing every one of the opposite gender without segregation, a toddler or an elderly woman. It’s just enough to know that he could keep someone in thrall & satisfy himself. Show the beast he is!

Debates & discussions, disputes & deliberations are held not only on national television, but in every household, around every dinner table, in every office cubicle and outside every college canteen, to met out the befitting crown of glory on these licentious brutes. Have mercy. Have mercy on the victims & their families. Justice delayed is justice denied.

Wouldn’t my voice drown out in midst of scores of others, demanding the same thing? But the only voices that would be heard will be of those non-educated brutes who make soft rules keeping in mind that tomorrow they will have to rescue one of their very own from the same crime.

 

Tie my hands tight & strap my mouth. Leave my eyes open to descry the struggle of the physically weak. Leave my ears open to get an earful of the shrieking & screeching. And smell the innocent blood reeking around me. 

You're worth it

You’re worth the hurt,

You’re worth the pain,

You’re worth every ‘no’, from our kin.

You’re worth the painfully tough decisions,

You’re worth the chaotic confusion

Of countless voices, saying things for my good.

You’re worth every drop of my tear,

You’re worth every love that I had lost,

You’re worth giving up, the things that I held close.

You’re worth the sacrifice, 

the jibes, the scorns, & even the adjustment blues.

If that’s the small cost, so be it, just for you.

You’re worth the worrying, sleepless nights,

You’re worth the fear of losing it mid-way,

Because,
We’re worth being together, we’re resilient.

All for the hope of being with you.

My love, you’re worth it all.

“Love always protects, 

     always trusts, 

       always hopes, 

         always perseveres. 

           Love never fails.”   -Bible.

Afterall, its him!

As you walked into the hospital

To hold your bundle of joy,

What did you think dad?

What did u dream that day?

Do you remember, when carrying

a plump bag on two tiny shoulders

I had dragged my feet

to get home one day?

Its you, I had looked for

As I had entered,

To inform you about the big race

Your daughter had just lost.

I was crestfallen to

See you not bothered.

But you had your mind

On something much better.

The day I had cheated at school

& was caught by my teacher & complained to you.

I was scared & ashamed, to be heard or seen,

Because of the disgrace that I had been.

I lowered my eyes &

broke in a sweat.

You just said- ‘I have high dreams for you

This is not what I expect.’

I stood there dumbfound

I had feared you’d admonish

But this is not what I deserved

I expected to be punished.

And a few years down the line,

I had waited impatiently for you

To return from office, to hand you

my certificate, beaming with joy.

You planted a kiss on my forehead

& u patted my back.

I had felt like an Oscar winner

That night, amidst thunderous claps!

You took a long look

& with pride filled eyes u said,

‘You’ll go a long way, my girl

You’ll go higher some day.’

And that day when on hearing noises

Into the kitchen I ran,

To see you & mother fight,

I cried to having seen such a sight.

The very next morning I was astonished

To see you hug mom & say ‘sorry’

& I knew I wanted someone like u father,

In my own love story.

As you’ll walk me down the aisle some day

and place my hand in another’s,

You’ll still be my favourite hero, dad,

You’ll always be my first love.