Ah! These Séances...

Even when manic his rambling chat always made more sense to me than all the sense and sanity that the world could offer. He was giving me the feeling of a caged vastness as he continued to talk without gestures. And, in the dim light of my séance I could see his thoughts running upon his head in a fit of madness. Witnessing his half-seen face and motion in the blinding winter mist I felt a dread…a horror, and for the first time in five years I felt genuinely sorry for him. While a drop or two fell from my eyes, his lips seemed to be shut in the firm fashion of a smile…maddening my brain and numbing all powers except the nerves of anguish and a dull lust for death! No matter what, it was always love for a real person, however transient it may have been…

Now Playing:: Piya baanwri…………………….Asha

The Missing

Let me still recall them; my
Midnight darlings of early youth.
Men, who had hit my taste,
Smelling of sweat and coffee breaths,
Men who were sweet in the mouth, but
Hacking their way into me, they
Hardly cared to knock!

As I moaned in silence beneath them,
They taught me what passion is…
Oh, let me still recall them! Men,
Who buried their eyes into mine, and
Made me acknowledge the actions of
The bodies…men, who preferred to
Sink, than settle!

They’re family-men today, yet my
Married body longs for their intimacy.
Oh, let me still recall them, for I’ve to go
Home to a man on a dull, tired bed, who
Gets rid of his raiment at the chance brush
Of the legs…oh, if I could only see his eyes, but all
That remains is a swollen organ of release…


P.S: I’ve talked too much, Asha, chalo sing me a song now.

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

Inter alia!

I can feel the idle vein returning upon me, and therefore I subside into my proper element of prose, besides, I missed talking to you, reader. So, tell me how have you been?


As for me, I bunked college today and I don’t think there’s anything much dreadful than being left alone for almost a quarter of an hour in the company of a sensible, well-informed man who is hardly interested in the works of the bard, on whom he wants me to present a paper on! It’s certainly not the prof’s fault that I’m not profiting more. I’m not affecting ignorance, but unfortunately, my brain isn’t spacious enough to oblige high sounding theories and philosophies without aching. It’s like a vulgar illiterate getting caught in a refined medium of communication, without an escape alley, and worse luck, to find all the refinement slowly setting a shop in his own murky system.


Oh boy, that’s precisely the kind of vague literary jargon that our profs expect us to write, and being the ideal student that I am, I’ll surely exhaust the whole fund of antiquity on the blankness, that’s their “faces”! At times however, the puzzling formulas of physics offer a better language of thought than all the words of literature taken together.


But that was not what I intended to write tonight. The main reason for this post was to recommend American Beauty and boy what a movie that was. You may not remember anything of the movie but what remains with you is the smile on Lester’s face (Kevin Spacey). There’s nothing special about the smile except that it reaches his eyes even in death. Perhaps, that’s what maketh a man, a man after all!


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

Brevity

We always had to hurry, since
He came in between meetings.
A mere monstrous orgasm
Ceased our bodies into a
Single shock of pleasure, and
We would be done for the day!

There wasn’t any place for nudity
For the brevity of the act said it all.
“Why work on expositions and
Common endings, when all that our
Bodies understand is a climax?” he
Would say.

As we advance and exhaust our
Fund of passion and taste the
Pleasures of lust, their spirit
Evaporates, intimacy palls; and nothing
Is left but the phantoms and the
Lifeless shadows of what has been!

Now Playing:: Piya baanwri........................Asha

P.S. Asha, please keep on singing this song until the night comes to an end...

The Bestseller

I have been pilfering lust all my life;
At times, hiding my body in the dark,
And at times flaunting it like a shameless tart.
There have been occasional sales
In the markets, and before I could bargain,
My body became my book.

As the weight of the flesh kept crushing me,
I celebrated the rare occasion of being
The concubine and the wife. On every
Bridal night as love invariably petered out
Into lust, I began to learn something more
About men and their kind.

Most of them rejected my face, like
The foreword never mattered for a book.
Shrinking further and further down the
Pages, leaving bold and ruthless signatures
On dark climaxes; undaunted by the cold
Phraseology, they made me readable!

Today, the book wrinkles with signatures,
A handful of whom I still retain amidst the
Folds of nostalgia. But, I have lived a contended
Life full of love for lust, never seeking indemnities,
However, a framed PhD in the closet reminds
Me of the price paid for it!


Now Playing:: Jaane do na........................Saagar

The Notebook Poet

A lonely breath of poetry
Thrashes against me, as I sit for
The umpteenth time, determined
To make a clear work of it.
I wane, stumble, and falter,
Writing a few meager lines;
Surviving on crumbs!


I stop half way down, after
Trying in vain to pump up any
Words, images, notions or apprehensions.
A return to prose beacons, but
The slender digits grow cold and cramped,
Raising a mere prosaic skeleton of some
Mathematical puzzle!


As I break into a nervous sweat
Over the blank unfinished paper, I realize
I cannot write fast enough now, but the
Unhurried movement of my thoughts
Say much more than I can perceive,
And maybe…maybe, I’ve finally become
The notebook poet!

Now Playing:: Dil dhoondta hai......................Bhupinder Singh

Scared at 21!

I don’t know why parents do it to children? First, they raise us with the concept of ghosts and apparitions, and evil beings, and then they leave us alone to sleep in the dark! Parents probably do not know what they do when they leave kids alone in the dark and, leave them helpless to face the gory manifestations of their own imaginations. I am 21, and perhaps I’m a different kind of a grown-up when I confess frequent nightmares in my sleeping excursions. You’ve no idea reader, what a terrible shaking it is to my nerves; to wake up in the middle of the night with the forehead drenched in sweat, the feeling about for a friendly hand, or a familiar voice, when I let out a muffled scream…and then finding none to soothe me, I bury my head under the pillow, for all the unwholesome hours to come! The night time solitude and the dark have become my hell, as they continue to fashion my prosaic dreams into nightmares, and they’re all geared up to try my childish nerves rather more seriously.

Dear reader, I’m almost ashamed of such a confession when I say hags and devils come to look at me by my bedside; and I do know that they’re indeed a figment of my imagination, but I cannot elude their presence and I continue to fight and grapple with them for my fair share of a blissful sleep!

P.S. The sketch is my poor representation of a Kesey masterpiece!

Now Playing:: Chanda re…………………Hamsika Iyer

The Two Kinds

This time the faces and frames
Are much younger. A package of
Juvenile intelligence and
Testosterone has been flooding
The jungle, but “Where are all the men?”
I wonder!

The men sit apart, dreaming about
Fair skin and generous bosoms.
They hardly notice my brown skinned
Body or my college girl’s breasts, but
I loiter around them anyway. One of
Them induces a small talk, and my

Body goes numb with fear and frenzy.
A carnal frenzy that strips me naked
In my thoughts, and the image of
Two entwined private bodies
Begin to loom larger. Someone from
The younger lot hands me a note,

On which is scribbled,
“I love you!” Meanwhile, the man in
Conversation draws me closer and
Whispers, “I wanna make love to you!”
I know not which “love” to choose, but
How long can one resist temptation?


Now Playing:: Hum kis gali ja rahe hain....................Atif

A Defiling Parody!

When he opens my lazy legs,
What does he see there?
Hunger?
Pouring his spittle into
My burning mouth,
What does he feel?
Lust?

Performing the auld motions
Of intimacy, what does he expect?
Passion?
And finally, cushioning his
Fall against my breasts,
What does he pull off?
Catharsis?

I moan too.
But what do I feign?
Ecstasy or hurt?
Oh, what a parody we
Make of the routine, and
Slander it more by calling,
“Love-Making!”

Now Playing:: Breathless...........................The Corrs

Perhaps!

Perhaps he was always there on the other side, but his appearance was different from what I had anticipated from seeing him before. He stood at a distance, and in the dim light of my séance, I could see a strange wildness in his aspect, a dusky obscurity; he was silent like he had always been. Here, was the proof and touchstone of all my cogitations, drenched in the cold dank drops of dew, stretching his hand and asking me to join him!

This is the man, whom I hide from the society, but I can’t help it, he always had a hunger for eternity! But, it has ceased to matter any longer, I’ll be joining him sooner or later, but until then, I need others for survival. He agrees too and says that his life was comparatively a dream; but it was a mere dream of infinity and death; no resurrections or judgments will ever come his way. It’s a romance in these degenerate days, and you are not to resist it, he adds.

But this is not to my purpose. For once I want to turn the tables around and get him into the human business of “guilt”! You’re crazy and stupid, he says, how else the demand of something which you know to be false in your waking sense, come to affect me at all?

I am not to disbelieve him; after all there is no canon to judge my séance!

Now Playing:: Woh shaam kuch…………………Kishore

The Namesake!

I don’t mind when
You explore my contours.
I don’t mind when
You slash your way in.
I don’t mind when
You leave tokens of lust on my body.
I don’t mind when
You leave your flavor
In every nook and cranny of
My being!


I don’t mind
Any of these darling.
But, I do mind darling,
I do mind…
I do mind, when you
Take my name!
I don’t claim autonomy
I hate it!
Let me save some face darling,
Don’t let people know me
By my name!


Now Playing:: Yaad…………………………Shehzad Roy

Why?

On most nights the need
To feign is paramount, after all
Not all bodies speak the
Same language!

And when he’s done,
I saunter into the streets,
Applying my knuckles to
Other people’s doors.

Turned out like a dog
I retreat to the river bank,
Where I hear strange, wild
Men come to take refuge at nights.

They lure me with their
Occult theories and practices
Involving the gracious business of
The bodies. I, turn in!

The morning-after, neighbours find me
Helpless, like a worm by the way side,
Crushed, bleeding lifeless. They ask me,
“why”?...“why”?


Now Playing:: Naam ghum jayega………………………….Kinaara

The Virgin!

She keeps stretching her
One dimensional nudity,
On sheets of white, waiting
For long hours for
The hallucinations to end,
For the limbs of the man
To recede, but she still feels
Them reaching out for her!

The calm of fulfillment keeps
Eluding her forever. Love becomes
Sex and sex becomes love, and
Both defile each other again and
Again.

She beats her sorry breasts
For a moment, her tongue tastes
Blood oozing from a pair of
Parched lips, and lust keeps
Eating her to the point of
Nausea.

What’s the point in having
The devices, she thinks?
When she has so few places
To hasten to?


Now Playing:Ek baat kahoon……………..Golmaal

Face Off!

No, it stood upon its own merits fairly. There it was. It was his mark, his token; that which he was known by.


P.S. But, most faces, involving notions, are hard enough to render; it is too much to expect me to translate a sound, a face, and give an elegant version to a jingle. I am not Ayn Rand!

Now Playing:: Phir wohi raat hai.......................Kishore