One-Oh-One!

Tell me reader, what is it that you do when you’ve all the time in the world just for yourself? You know, times like when you feel as if you’re passing out of Time into Eternity and all! Ok, now don’t even bother to answer that one for; these are precisely the moments when you feel as if your head is running upon you in your madness, as much almost as on another person, who seems to be the more immediate cause of your frenzy, than your dear self! So did you make anything out of the above documented so-called sagacious stuff? Ha, obviously “no”, so let’s quit our mutual “idiot wonder” and talk something “light”!


Well talking of something “light”, reminds me of my blogging journey, which to inform you has reached its first milestone of a hundred posts, and with this one the count gets to one-oh-one! Thank you dear reader for frequenting this space of eternally recurring madness and so crammed of incoherent thinking (that’s because at times even I do not understand what I indite), you know it’s more like a mad rush of thoughts having an orgasm! But it’s marvelous how this freedom of thought operates and most blogs I realize are indeed ‘confessions’, albeit prompted by different themes.


Do confess, fellow bloggers, but confess fairly, cautiously, more in a self-pleasing manner, and a naturalness that should not seem strange to you, or else insensibly your visitors will become fewer in number, and will come less frequently.


I do wanna write more reader but somewhere I lost the punch and there’s hardly a point in writing in so rambling and inconclusive a manner, so I better take your leave for now.


Until then……..


Now Playing:: Meherbaan............Ada

The Flamboyance of Lust II

Do not knock,
Walk right in.
Recline in my bean bag,
Or fall back against me, and
Wait, while I do
What I think proper to please you,
The innocent-little things,
The imagined-the expected.


You think of all
Those women whom
You had wished to know, but
For once
Explore the wide wilderness
Of a young girl;
She’ll make you small and
Edible.


For centuries your Kind
Has been clinging to
Famished nipples,
‘married for eleven years’, you say,
And you still wonder
What nakedness is?
Oh! And you do notice
The couple next door!


But, none thought of love!


Now Playing:: Rimjhim gire sawan……………Kishore

The Flamboyance of Lust!

The Indian sun and the summer heat,
Vital heat;
I know sensuality lures irresistibly.
What are you waiting for, silly?
Look at me,
I walk out of the bathroom,
No raiment on.
Don’t wait for the sun to set;
Its noon, a time for wild love.
Come, make your move darling!


Quit playing with my hands,
You know my mind’s racing
Towards love.
Crucify love into sex.
The buzzing sound of the coolers
Will drown our moans,
Wait no more darling!


Oh, this theatre of enervation,
This vestibule of unresolved tensions,
Oh, the flamboyance of lust!
And, you talk of love darling, when
I offer you lust, and a fall-into
Heat, sweat, weariness
And nudity!


Life is a cruel mockingbird darling,
You are a man, and
I, a woman,
What else are we made for darling?


Now Playing:: Agar tum na hote…………….Kishore

Nostalgic Deceptions

You want to forget, but you cannot. Someday it will be buried deep, but it will not be forgotten. The earliest impressions keep burning into you, in spite of all the resistance and experience; maybe there are more skins that are yet to be peeled off. To say the truth, its time, the thing were gone. The humor of the thing ( some things tend to be humorous when recollected after a considerable length of time ), if there was ever much in it, is pretty well exhausted and it would be vain to drag it any further. I am now at liberty to confess but I realize that even confessions are intelligent in nature, and that my confessions should be natural in a self-pleasing quaintness, than intend to affect a naturalness that should be strange to me. You see, I’ll have to continue living with myself in spite of the confessions!

p.s: And yet to every bad there is a worse……..lets wait and watch….


Now Playing:: Raat ka shauk hai………………Guru

The Mistress, Part 1

Honestly, readers, I am in no hurry to begin this story, indeed it isn’t a story, but a mere observation of this blogger, connected with that interesting time of the early 90s, when I was about seven or eight, trying to learn the ways in which society functions and expects us to function, and more importantly, that there can be relationships out of the wed-lock, apparently, one which society condemns, and that the world isn’t just ‘husband, wife, son, daughter’, and other names of the relations that issues out of the primary ones, but there are a million other relationships that flutter our brains for a moment or longer, because we’re too ill-equipped to understand the mechanism in which the adult world functions!


As long as I can remember, it was in 93 when we had shifted to this house, and although I cannot recall everything in its entirety, but the thing that makes the years of 93-95 worth a blog post is because those were the years that saw my association with The Mistress.


The earliest impressions which I received in this matter, are certainly not attended with anything painful, or very humiliating, but are in the nature comical in the recalling, but it is difficult to keep the account distinct without blending.


Since we were the new arrivals our immediate neighboring aunty began to brief mom about the other families in the colony, which I guess was some kind of ploy to focus attention on house number 6 (opposite to ours) where the Mistress used to stay with her daughter. I bet she had spiced up the details because nobody ever knew anything about the mistress, it all depended upon the speaker who altered the details as and when he required and presented it as creatively and appealingly as possible, and as it turned out we kept hearing different stories about her in the course of two years.


At that age I could never understand what made the women hostile towards her but the fact that they so incessantly bitched about her generated enough interest in me and I longed to meet this woman. She rarely ventured out of the house but I would occasionally catch glimpses of her strolling in the garden or when we went to the local temple and all. I still remember it was diwali of 93 when I saw both the mother and daughter lighting those little earthen lamps and then silently closing the doors on the noise of the outside world. My mother somehow pitied on their lives but she was primarily a wife and no wife ever takes sides with a mistress! Even then mom had nothing against her and by the spring of 94 we saw mom trading varieties of hibiscus plants with the mistress, which in a subdued manner led to afternoon gossips amongst the other aunties. Having sensed this, mom grew careful of her dealings with the mistress and she was glad that she was working as that kept her away from home for most part of the day, a sure respite from the gossip-sessions.


And then the summer of 94 saw me at the door step of the mistress holding a bag of mangoes from the twin mango trees of our garden. It was then that I actually ‘saw’ her. Man, I can never forget that face. She looked like some actress straight out of the silver screen and with that big bindi-like the one that Bengali women wear, she had that whole artistic appeal in her, enough to make you fall in love with her. Presently, she pulled my cheeks and invited me in and before I could take notice of things around me, I was feeding on biscuits, sweets and Rasna. (hey we all remember rasna don’t we?)


Well, readers, the story’s not over yet and the remainder will be posted ASAP……


Now Playing:: Ye din kya aaye…………..Chhotisi Baat

Re-tracing....

I was meeting new faces, new thoughts, new appreciations, and new voices, and for the first day or two I felt literally stunned and overwhelmed. I could only apprehend my felicity but honestly I was too confused to taste it sincerely. I wandered about, thinking I was happy, but indeed I was not. I realized that it is easy to forget people, but replacing them takes a lifetime.


It’s an awkward feeling, when you go about meeting new faces, pretending that you’re enjoying every moment of the conversation, and have convinced yourself that you’ve indeed replaced your old cronies, but somewhere deep within, a part of you is still on the look out for an old joke, or a mere gesture that you could relate to and feel that you ‘belong’………but, the past hardly ever reacts!


So how does one dissipate this awkward feeling?


One simply revives the old feelings. One takes a positive swerve into bygone days, no matter how rugged he/she might have been, or one simply chooses to be a coward like me, waiting for an insane stroke of fate that would bring old life out of dead protoplasm!


Well, it is too late to repent; especially when I had violently broken the bonds between us, returning would be equally painful as going forward has been.


Lost in the dark!


Reader, you might think I am singular, but the real point probably is that there is this widest gulf between my ‘friend-making’ and yours. Yours has always been poetry, and mine has been prose. And prose no matter how well considered and well thought-out it may be, it still remains inferior to poetry!


It’s usually believed that the more people one knows, the easier it gets to replace them. But how could I ever replace the guy who taught me how to punch, or the guy who would play the guitar every time I called, or the guy who would prefer vying with me over solving physics numericals, and numerous others who were a part of my growing up years!


It shall be sometime before I get quite reconciled to this separation and until then fare thee well old cronies, yet not for long, because you’ll be remembered again and again……


Now Playing:: Aur kya ehede wafa hote hain………….Asha

Size Matters!

“Worrying about the size, baby?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to take in all that!”

“The initial lunge is always painful, but believe me, you’ll ask for more afterwards!”

“That’s enough! My wrists are already paining!”

“I can’t help it; you are holding it the wrong way.”

“But, I hardly know any other; have always held it this way!”

“Oh, come on now; stop being such a doll…..your Suitable Boy demands a cohort!”

“Yeah, the Boy would probably take Ulysses as his midnight darling!”



Now Playing:: Tera mujhse……………Kishore Kumar

Amrita

I once had the key to his apartment, where the veil of my weaknesses were lifted up several times. Inarticulate moments that shut the nonsense-noises of the world except for the chimes jangling to the rhythm of our pulsating breaths. If you ever get to visit that house darling, you’ll find me there, the musk of my scent still blooms at night! In my dreams I still at times fancy the cool floors purling beneath our burning bodies. But my waking stomach rejects it! Oh if a wish could transport me back to that house, every corner of which had echoed with our music………if I could only pick up the remnants of that music and bring it here with me……….

What do you think darling that I didn’t try……I did…..I did, but you won’t believe darling, he turned me out like a dog, or some profane person, into the common street, I still begged him to re-consider……..I was in love, I had no shame.

Looking back, I still have a vague notion that it could not all have perished, that so much love and magnificence could not have been crushed all at once into the mere dust and rubbish which I find it now……….but its not over darling, I want that man back……..I want him back for I’ve lost my way, I’ve lost the key to my apartment………..

You’re right darling, ‘I’m a freak.’


Now Playing:: Silli hawa………..Libaas

At Noon...

Suddenly,

A flash.
Of strange thoughts?
No.
Of words, vying.

More flashes; more words.

A poetic fit.
Brief yet lasting,
Silent yet echoing.

An explosion.

Blurred thoughts;
A waiting, and
Then the lines.

Presently,

A scream
Rings through the house,
With the calling-bell!
Someone sneezes, and

Its over,
Prose returns!

Now Playing:: Aaoge jab tum............Jab We Met

of Friends Among Other Things!

Just when my actions were making me feel rather wretched, my cell phone beeped with these messages:


Someday, when all of us will get busy with our lives….long working hours, no more classes, lectures, friends, and messages…..won’t even have time for ourselves…..at such a day when you’ll look outside the window and remember the good old days………when memories will flash you by……you will get a smile with a tear in your eye and you would get back to your work, thinking I wish I could relive those days all over again…..


Ek din zindagi aise mukam pe pahunch jayegi….dosti toh sirf yaadon mein reh jayegi…har cup coffee yaad doston ki dilayegi….aur haste haste phir aankhein nam ho jayegi…office ke chamber mein classroom nazar aayegi….par chahne pe bhi proxy nahin lag payegi……paisa toh bahut hoga, magar unhe lutane ki wajah hi kho jayegi….jee le khulke is pal ko mere dost kyunki zindagi ye palon ko phir se nahin dohrayegi!


As I said I was feeling rather wretched and there was no way I could originate similar sentiments and get all mushy over friends and friendship in general, but as the clutter began to clear itself and I re-read those messages, I kind of liked them, but duh, “hang it all”, I thought!


Undergrad days are coming to an end, but the learning process has just begun. One thing I’ve already learnt is that: you necessarily do not pay off friends by telling them that you haven’t got for them what they want from you, in other words tell them what they want to listen, yeah you heard me right, be a hypocrite!


You might hate me reader, but I can’t help it! I can’t call these people ‘friends’ who made me write complaints against one of my much loved professors accusing him of sexual harassment. I wish I could put to death each of those pretty ladies for their obnoxious narrow thinking. People, who denied me of choices with all their high talk about unity and respect, are friends of a different order, you won’t mind forgetting them. So much for working in a group! These people believed in sudden conversions, a belief which maybe right, but which seems peculiarly attractive to only half-baked minds!


Three years of hypocrisy is enough. I had enough!

But I’m glad, for the more people one knows; the easier it becomes to replace them.

This again reminds me of a conversation with a good friend of mine, who once asked:

“Must needs be always the overriding consideration? Does not a life long friendship mean anything to you?”

The guy who asked me that unfortunately ran short of life, and it has been a lot harder to find replacements. Boy, why do we always seem to look out for familiar moorings to latch on to?

However, this outer life, though horrid at times, has also been the real one….there has been some amount of grit in it. It did breed character!



Now Playing:: Mehbooba…………..R.D

She's Gay!

She had heard them say,
“Give him all, give him all.”
‘Let me go’, she screams.
‘It won’t take too long’, he says,
Cold and uncaring like the moon;
A constant rumbling of naked flesh,
A pain inflicted; a hunger satiated.

‘I am done’, he says and,
Lies exhausted at the edge of sleep.
‘Can I hide myself now’, she cries?
‘Like I care’, he says and
Out he walks!

Several eyes peep in,
Somebody exclaims,
‘Why is the rainbow red today?’
Another screams,
“Its too late, it’s too late.”
Another says,
‘There are worse lives!’
She laughs.


Now Playing:: Jaane kya baat hai………………Asha