Sunday, May 30, 2010

The Games They Play

There’s a list of games that they play. I shall
Some day write it down for you. What’s the need
Darling, to love a man, if he doesn’t walk along
With you? And what’s the need to love a man,
If he merely walks along with you? He’ll start as
A loser and make you sniff his pain like a dog. He’ll
Make you feel needed; call you an angel and fling all
The best words, till you’re ready to limp for him, like
A beaten street mongrel, hungry for love. And, while
You’re still licking at his bones, he tells you about
Other worlds, other smells, other bodies…
And, you with your dull, tired pride let him go.
Much, much later when he’s gone, you still find
Yourself as a guilty, brooding thing, crouching behind
Empty spaces, sadly smelling slabs of grime,
Waiting forever, hoping for too much…

Now Playing:: Jaane kya sochkar...........Kishore

Saturday, May 22, 2010


It was just one of those days. In 2005.

S was still around. Life was focused on entrances. Competition was fierce. Yet, dreams were simple. The mind was relatively free of maladies. Nothing mattered. Laws of motion, chemical equations, microorganisms… that was all. Failure, disillusionment, and mania, were still impossibilities.

It was then, that S started talking. He was under stress. Crushed under the weight of his own expectations. Yet, he talked sense. I hated him. Precisely for that. He talked without gestures. Carefully breathed his spiritual fudge into my system. He talked of creativity. Of enlightenment. Of the Soul. Of faith. Of miracles. He intimidated me. To the extent of boredom. I asked him to shut up. I had stopped understanding. I was seventeen.

Today, I don’t see S around. His ideas never really got him anywhere. A wasted life. He’s very much silent these days. However, on certain evenings, one longs. For those rambling chats. Like a wrap. A sure protection. Against a cold, uncaring world.

Over the years, S has been in and out of oblivion. At times, its things like these that trigger him back to memory:

Many years later Billy was to say to me, ‘Things might have been different, Romi, if that wretched storm had not come up when it did. You see what I mean, don’t you?’ I did not, and I told him so; but then there were many things that I did not see which Billy saw and which, step by step, led him to the only end that awaits those who see too much.

P.S: Excerpt from The Strange Case of Billy Biswas by Arun Joshi. This post is largely on account of the rains I think.

Now Playing:: Jaane do na...................Cheeni Kum

Friday, May 21, 2010

The Fist

“That’s how one starts. Now, clench.”

She is not ashamed anymore. I am. We’re at it again. Let’s.

“Good. Now, unclench.”

It’s all female; that little thing beating between her bold, sorry breasts.

“Now, clench again and tell me what you feel.”

I stare at her. Pervert. Something in her reminds me of the sea. Wave on wave. I look away.

“What can you do with that?” I ask.

I return to the sea. I’m building thoughts. I stare at her still. I fix my gaze at no particular part of her body. She is all.

“What can you do with that?” I ask her again.

She mumbles something. Talks of power. Talks of the guilt held within. My hands get restless. I’m flushed with sex.

“You can do nothing with a closed hand”, I tell her.

She opens. Her sick secret leans against mine. For a moment I look at her shoulders. Brooding. Heavy with sleep. Like pigeons on lazy summer afternoons….

My fingers recoil. Waking themselves to war. Yet again.

Now Playing:: Humsafar hain sabhi.....................Kishore & Asha

Friday, May 14, 2010

Out Loud!

“We’re running late darling… the dial is blank… can you see the hands?”

“Never mind, it’s never too late.”

“Oh! It would be dumb and awkward to learn walking all over again!”

“Perhaps the darkness will make it easy.”

“Yes, yes. I hope my thin limbs remain anonymous and there are no pauses in the walk.”

“Even if there are pauses, you can always arrange your limbs and keep going… I see children doing that all the time.”

“Why don’t you tell me something that I do not wish to hear?”

“You are a happy woman!”

Now Playing:: Salaam-e-ishq....................Lata & Kishore

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

The Quality

He knows me too well,
He has seen me often.
He knows I move about
Like an adult; like a woman,
Yet I kiss like a child;
Asexual and indifferent.

He calls me frigid;
Adjusts his bites as kisses.
His fingers tremble and whimper
In the depths of my hair,
As he ventures to
Thrash his bone against mine.

He stands up angrily,
Yet turns away in a hollow
Silence of loneliness.
I creep into my knees,
Nuzzling my face in
The folds of my palm,

Breathing away the fever of
His hunger… his hurt.
Perhaps, this man knows me too well;
For, he has opened me enough,
And I’ve finally lost the need to
Reach into my mind, ever again!

Now Playing:: Chand roz aur.......................Kishore Kumar

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Not a Dream

This is the nightmare:

Someday this roaming whiff of smoke would bring dad wondering into my room. It would be no use then to hide it or smother it into ash. The smoke; the riot of white between my fingers; the loose tresses; the awkward position of the body; and above all, the unapologetic me would break his heart, or worse, it would break his spirit.

The nightmare should end there, but it would not.

Once discovered, I would draw a blank and out of sheer panic would go about arranging my limbs, and be the obedient—head down, chin buried in throat—daughter that I had always been. He would still believe me, he would still forgive me.

Next day he would smile at me; would lovingly pass on the daily; would even offer a lift to the university; and would make every possible effort to make me bid farewell to my guilt… but that man, my father, I know would have lost his sleep forever…

Now Playing:: Raah pe rehte hain...................Kishore Kumar

Sunday, May 2, 2010

The Carrion

The flies are out there,
Crawling in unwonted places
Of the carrion;
It reeks filthy,
It reeks of you.

Why do I so often
Hate you in dreams,
But love you more
In my stumbling
Educated wake?

Leave some time sooner,
Then I shall love you twice;
Once, for life
And once more, to slake the
Fatigued wile of my dream.

Now Playing:: Mann behak raha hai.....................Asha