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

Life on wheels

The one thing that I always had dreamt of as a kid was to have a caravan that could take me to places.I always wanted a gypsy styled life. The idea itself mesmerized me to the extent that I kept dreaming of it the whole time not even realising how it was time which kept on rolling but I stood exactly at the same place, my dreams could never concretize. What was laughed at as a childish game was so important to me that I keep doodling it in my memory till now. I see a meadow, lush green with those small daffodils growing by, perhaps Wordsworth's daffodils! Then I see a girl, her wild unkept hair sailing in the gentle breeze. She has a smile which speaks of solitude, and her heart , well that's swelling with happiness as he looks at her caravan, after all she finally has a life on wheels. What more could she wish for, what more can anyone wish for? It's not always that we get to live a life we conceived as a kid, life keeps on deciding our track. From what we liked doing...

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...

Grandpa and me

I am the eldest grandchild in my family. And being the eldest, I was pampered a great deal by my grandparents. My aama (grandma) and baa (grandpa) always shielded me from every possible dangers including thrashings from maa. I have pleasant memories of evening story sessions as grandpa took me to bed. Aama would oil my hair and tie pony tails which resembled coconut trees that I used to draw. Sundays meant elaborate sessions with my grandparents. Baa would trim my nails, aama would fondle me to sleep. Their bed room was literally my playing room, my story book reading room, my painting room and what not. With time, as I grew, I got a room of my own but their room was still my favourite one. When I left for hostel, I missed them more than I missed my parents. It was in the year 2014, I had come home after my exams when aama received a pressure stroke . She couldn't make it. I had spent a month as he lay sick on her bed. All of a sudden, there was a role reversal. I could...

Swings of a rhapsodic mind

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