Skip to main content

Micro mini verses

I hear a commotion beneath my skin
It lays my frantic attempts to hide, threadbare.
A wail, a scream of rotting memories
Coupled with regret of an unlived future
I see it all form a zygote in my protruding belly
I tighten my skirt, wear duppatas
Yet, my guilt rises over my skirt
And as I was struggling over honour and choice
I found myself to be in a dream.
...

I face a mirror : plain and morbid
I powder my swollen cheeks
Paint my sore eyes
And yet, the mirror fails to show me my bruises
It mocks me in disdain, I hear it's muffled breath crawling
"there ain't a wound to your pain"
...

I feel the tightening weight of ghungroo in my ankle
"Nach, jhum k nach ", I hear the scream
My legs refuse to move, my heart adamant tries
In a darkened streets of despair, I lose myself to fate.
...

I sip my morning tea
A foul gush of bile makes me twitch my face
Was it the cheap wine from last night
Or the stink of dark memories. I wonder!
...

Fatima , our helper brought home biryani,
It found its place in a dustbin in my brahmin household.
She eagerly waited by the doorstep for my maa to pack her some modaks
Her child didn't knew yet hypocrisy's recipe!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Reading between the lines

"Read between the lines",  I heard our professor say. We were in midst of a Victorian text. I looked at her point blank. She had spoken about something which I had no clue about. "Ma'am,  would you please elaborate? ",  I tried framing this sentence in my mind but my introverted  self overpowered my inquisitive soul like everytime. I hopelessly waited for an explanation. Ma'am started explaining about how beyond the surface meaning of any written text, there lay a wide plethora of meaning which wasn't explicitly stated. She talked about finding a void between the written words and our imagination, that void which shapes our interpretation. That explanation opened doors to my perception of reading a text. It wasn't that I had never considered about the possibilities of meanings that lay coated in words until then, but, what perhaps I lacked was to look for that void where I questioned the layers of meaning, where I put myself in those layers of wo...

What do you want to be?

While I was in my 10th standard, almost everyone I met wanted to know what I wanted to be. This question always perplexed me. From the lens of a fifteen year kid who was not yet sure of the changes which awaited in the near future, this question gave me nightmares. I would constantly sit by the mirror and ask myself, what actually would be my answer. My friends always had fancy answers at their disposal. They would confidently chirp whenever any one asked about it. What amused me most was, my friend who had no inkling to study Biology wanted to be a doctor and another friend who detested the idea of even cooking noodles, wanted to be a chef! But whenever they spoke about their wishes, they would always sound confident. And there I was, fumbling for words which refused to escape my lips. It was not until I entered Jawahar Navodaya Vidyalaya to do my plus two, I found my voice. The teachers there have a different way of viewing life. For the first time, I no longer felt the classroom...

"My love is enough for both of us"

"My love is enough for both of us", she often felt those words ring in her heart. She finally had understood that life wouldn't always follow her designs. That people are meant to leave but their memories won't. She often had wondered how someone could love her to such an extent when that person had always known that she wouldn't reciprocate those feelings. How could a person stand by her when she always acted as a fleeting shadow. She never had given hope for she knew the pain of dejection but he kept hoping like a hopeless vagabond. How she wished that he would some day hate her enough to let go. She devised ways to free him from this web, she acted cold, turned indifferent, did everything he detested and she finally saw some changes. It was a relief, he finally seemed to take hold of his life. She could see him grow responsible. He finally it seemed was learning to love himself. Phone calls died, meetings subsided, they become known strangers. All this while ...