To You...

Don't you know, it is over...

Don't you know, I am moving on.

Though you're still in my heart somewhere...

I hide your remains and laugh along.

Where were you...

When the clouds where crowding in.

Not a sound...

When my heart was dying within.

And today you say- 

"Hey, how are you.

I'm happy , doing fine...

And I miss you".

Why...

Do you do this to me.

I am nursing a broken heart...

Why break it some more for me.

You got your lucky breaks...

Your life is set and stable

Why come to me..

Just to make me miserable.

Or prove to me...

Then and now.

That I can't run from you...

That you're irreplaceable somehow.

Do my tears fill up...

Gaps in your time table.

Does my emptiness...

Make you feel plentiful.

Guess, it's time to amend the ending...

Bring myself to revolt and defy.

Smile up at the rising sun...

And look at you eye-to-eye.

Saying- " Hey...

Remember me ?

You broke and choked the life I had...

But I stand again, don't you see.

I bought a new paint brush...

And some new paper roll.

I'll sketch a new life...

All on my own.

I will build my pair of wings...

I will fly.

Across the oceans, above the hilltops...

Free, till the day I die.

This I promise...

To you.

I'm done wanting to be loved back...

Thank you".

Prayers...

You have always been there,

In my pleasure and in my pain...

When I was bouncing up in joy,

Or crying my heart out in vain...

When I closed my eyes in despair,

Wondering how I'll get up again...

Rise from this shame,

And get to the top of my game...

When I was chipped out and lost,

Piece by piece...

To people for selfish gains,

And their endless needs...

You took my hand,

And helped me breathe...

Made me wanna live,

Made me wanna believe...

And here I am again,

Knocking at your door...

With fear gripping my heart,

And panic painting my soul...

I want you to pat my cheek,

And tell me I will be fine...

Send me a guardian angel,

Give me one sign...

Take me by my hand,

Teach me to breathe again...

Make me wanna live,

Make me believe again...

Amen..

Let me go !

Don't you get it,

Don't you know this is wrong...

Get over yourself,

Let me go, I am too strong...

No, you can't come in,

No point knocking my door...

No point in waiting,

When my answer is no...

It's not like tomorrow,

I will grow out a new head...

That will know the things you did,

And forgive or forget...

No, the answer is no,

So, please let me go...

I refuse to be a toy in your dirty hands,

So, don't knock on my door...

Keep your filth in your head,

Don't expect me to listen...

I'm not your waste bin,

Or some girl you take for a spin...

Pick yourself,

And move on...

It's the wrong address,

Please carry on...

You got the incorrect girl,

I ain't done nothing wrong...

Get over yourself,

Let me go, I'm too strong...

An ode to my treacherous heart...

What do want today?

Why so heavy in my chest.

My heart, you are a traitor...

A buried, treacherous infest.

What hurts more?

Knowing that it is over

Or knowing that they have moved on...

Who hurts more?

He who broke your heart

Or the one who didn't fix it then on...

Why do you cry?

My heart, what do you miss...

Why weep over spilled milk,

Or is it on some eternal bliss.

Won't a numbness be better?

With neither joy nor pain...

A neutrality in this craziness,

Of duality, learnt in vain...

'Cos knowing is not accepting,

Accepting is not to learn...

'Cos I cross the same bridges,

And jump into the very same bushes and ferns...

Sit quite, my heart,

Try not to twist and turn...

Don't slip off just as yet,

There is a fire, don't you burn...

Oh, you didn't listen did you?

See, you are charred to the core...

And now you are back again,

Pretty sure, you're up for some more...

I'll build a fire and you'll jump again,

Not a thought, not a clue...

And after the fire has died out,

You'll come back and ask me to lick your wounds...

Do you ever think at all?

Don't you sit and sulk now, deep in my chest

My heart, you are a traitor...

A buried, treacherous infest.

Old friend..

There you are standing,

All on your own...

Closing all the windows,

Locking down your door...

I try to say hello,

Before my time is up..

I try to reach out to plant a smile,

Before I run out of luck.

I smile at my own shadow-

"So long, old friend...

When I started, it was you and me,

Seems it's just us two, till that unfathomable end...

See, that little house,

Across the road...

A friend of mine lives there,

Distant and cold...

Can you slither through,

That closed door, old friend...

Can you tell her that I am waiting out,

It is shivering and it is late,

But, I want to take her out...

Tell her- that I see her all the time,

Tell her- I didn't want to go...

But had to go, for her sake,

'Cos, she loves closing her windows...

And locking down her door.

And I am not like you,

I can't slither under closed doors, old friend...

The street lamps are burning,

Walk me home, old friend...

For it is you or that closed door,

And I have chosen you, old friend..."

I smile at my own shadow-

"So long, old friend...

When I started, it was you and me,

Seems it's just us two, till that unfathomable end..."

FIGHT ANTHEM

I'm not giving up yet

This is still my fight

This ain't the last of me, you know

There is more of me than in sight

This is not the end

I have not pulled the brakes

I run around with band aids

For every crack and break

How many times can you break me

How long will you hammer on

Some day you'll get tired

I'll get up and you will move on

With those boulders

That you have thrown at me

I'll build my castle

You can stick around if you want to see

Remember your mean words

Remember these mountains of pain

'Cos I'm gonna cross them all

And never gonna see them again

There will be new mean words

New pain mountains on the other side

But, I'm not giving up

Not going down without a fight

So, break me if you can

Hit me, kick me, throw me out

I may fall down every time

But I will stand up back again and keep fighting on...

A penny...

A penny for my nightmares,
A penny for my tears.

Stay right where you are,

Don't come any near.

Who are you?

Some lost and broken pot.

Spilling over,

All hatred- cold and hot.

I cannot change,

What has happened and what has been.

But I can choose to keep on walking,

Away from this tragic scene.

Not a penny,

Not even a nickle for your thoughts.

Never will be,

You'll never be in my heart.

Maybe you had your chances,

Maybe you had not.

But this twisted thing is over,

Never again to start.

So stay right where you are now,

Yards and miles apart.

Not a penny for your thoughts today,

Not  in my heart.

Only in Mumbai ( a short story )....

" You know aam chori? "
" No. "
" You no play? "
" I can't understand.. what?"
" See...
Aam chori...  clap! clap! clap!
Chappa chori ... clap ! clap! clap!
Garam masala... clap! clap! clap!
Paani puri... clap! clap! clap!  " 



Not just any Friday afternoon. No. One doesn't get to see things like this everyday.
No no no.....Not just anywhere. This is amchi Mumbai...This can't happen everywhere.


4 blondes and a brunette in white sleeveless kurtis, heavy-handedly plaited hair, khakhi pants and goggles that all together scream- "We are tourists!"...... 2 small girls, brown hair, filthy tattered clothes, innocent toothy grins and a slightly taller boy, black rudraksha thread tied sacredly to his throat and another religious black thread on his arm and possessing the kindest pair of eyes I have seen in a very long time......
Put them together on the same local boggie..... Pure magic.


Just about 40 minutes on an afternoon, slow, Mumbai suburban train - From Santacruz to Mumbai central station. It was just another afternoon, nothing special about it. I had an oversized backpack slumped on my back and a cheap brown goggle pushed up my forehead, resting on my head. My mind was jumbled... ( like always-  half into a dead yesterday and half into an unborn tomorrow ) My ears were unwillingly putting up with some soundless music blaring in my ears... And I was thinking to myself - 'God! My bag is heavy.'.... :)
I tell you, books are your best friends and everything. But, when you have to carry them all  around while travelling..... they are nothing, but a pain in the........ let's keep it "bag", shall we? :)


So there I was - fretting at anything and everything.. frowning at the sweaty afternoon... complaining... sad.... miserable. But, definitely not accepting any of it.


Station after station... The mechanical ladies' voice announced each one. ( It is truly enchanting to watch new technology splashed onto a poster-crowded, run-down daily local train... Almost like a polar bear in the middle of an African jungle! Out of place, yet totally 'cool' !! )


Next stop- Khar road...


In walk a never-ending stream of the aforementioned foreigner ladies... what they spoke was definitely not English. Even if I screen the accent off somehow, the words weren't making much sense. Maybe French? German? Probably a bunch of Europeans on a "girls-day-out" kind of trip to our very own " Incredible" India.. What makes foreigners feel so chirpy on a local Mumbai train under the hot March Mumbai sun, I could never comprehend. It is probably the same exuberance which I once saw on the faces of a 'healthy' Gujarati family I ran into in Ahmedabad airport... Just back from the dreamland "Amreeka"  (evident from the loose shorts, brand new luggage bags and mismatched knee length boots.. ) beeming away like they had seen some paradise that Columbus couldn't have possibly ever found.


Anyways, back to this group of touristas. They cross me and sit on the benches planted just opposite to mine.. I had a full view, but they had their backs turned towards me. Perfecto! Now, I could see what they were up to without being labelled as some nosy Indie gal by them!


Just as the last of them was settling down, she looked to her left and said - "Hi!"


Prejudice is the worse thing one can ever harbor, I tell you! There I was expecting some dashing Punjabi dude to emerge miraculously from the seat next to them... But, lo and behold. Up popped 2 tiny heads and then a taller fellow- a boy.. their brother? I would never know..


They started chatting like old friends bumping into one another at Heathrow International airport, each waiting for their boarding calls to different airplanes.... a language barrier certainly not being seen as a hindrance.

" What is that thing on your arm? "


" This? Ye bhagwan ka he..Up ... Up... "

He points his finger upwards and closes his eyes. The foreigner nods in complete understanding. 


Out comes a freshly strewn wreath (gajra) of jasmine and interspersed red roses from a little brown bag which one of the little girls carried. 

" Ye lo... Pehno"

And the girl tiptoes and tries to reach and hinge it into one of the ladies' hair, just as the other girl goes up and sits next to another of the fair haired ladies and tries teaching her an extremely popular little girl's game in India- Aam chori..... Clapping hands, cheering smiles, flickering camera lights and an open mouthed onlooker- me.


Had the roles been reversed. Would I have done something like this? If I was that foreigner, would I have so trustingly shown off my costly digital camera to some unknown street girl on some unknown suburban train in some unknown country? Maybe not... And then, had I been one of those little girls, would I have had the courage to go and talk to a bunch of unknown ladies from some unknown place? I don't think so.

And then it strikes me. How many times have I used the words- " I " and "unknown" ! 
Way too much..


Next stop- Lower Parel. The little girls and their supposed brother get off the train and walk off with gigantic smiles pasted to their faces and waving away like crazy till the train pushes off. The foreigners too, zealously clicking away pictures and blowing air kisses at them, uncaring what people around would think. They were all happy. And that was all that mattered to them!


The train moved on. We still had a few stops to reach Mumbai Central. I was waiting for an encore. Waiting for that cliched " dashing Punjabi dude "... But, nothing happened. 

Next stop- Mumbai Central.


I pick up my overstuffed backpack and get off the train. 


The long walk to my platform, where I was to catch my next train, saw me question the same things that had popped up when I was watching those 20 minutes of awesome activity and energy.


a. Who is 'unknown' ? And why are we so afraid of it? Is it because it is different from what we are ? God created the world in his own image. He didn't create differences. That is all our doings. Hence, the concept of 'unknown' is also, man-made.There is a piece of Godliness in every living thing. If only we can see it, no place or person would be unknown.


b. Why do we constantly think of " I " and "me" ? Won't the world be a better place if we live for others, because in that way, someone else would be living for me. And I for someone else. Isn't that all that truly matters - to matter? to make some difference... to create some joy before the joyride gets over for good ?


And finally, c. Ironically enough....Why do we think that we know someone we don't actually know? Why do we see the world through spectacles tainted with past experiences, ill-formed opinions and senseless advices ? Being hurt is as much an emotion as being in love. Then why do we fear it so much ? Perhaps, there is nothing like fear. Perhaps, we are just afraid of 'fear' per se and so we call it 'fear' and run miles away from it. Could there be a world without this 'fear' ?


40 minutes and I am a question mark.


Only in Mumbai..

Juhu magic...

There is sea in my dreamy eyes...

Sea in my flowing hair...

Sea in the shady evening lights.

My shadow on the endless sands...

Waves in the webs of my toe...

And an ebbing tide of pure delight.

Thou hath all beauty..

Thou lapped up in chirpy serenity...

My joy hath no bounds.

In the midst of seething humans...

And mindless Monday madness...

A spot of blissful waters, I found.

Thanks, Mumbai..

Happy Women's Day...

So they tell me it is Women's day today.. A day to salute women for what they are and what the other half of 'man'-kind have become because of them ( for better or for worse! )...

But, ( though I am a woman and I have utmost respect for people who are or will be celebrating this day by little/big gestures to the many essential women in their lives- mothers, sisters, mother-in-laws, sister-in-laws, aunts, cousins, friends, colleagues..... et al... oops, almost missed it.... wives! ) today, I do not want to talk about why this day is special or why women, in general, are special.

In fact, I do not want this day to be made so special, with all due respect, thank you very much...

Women are like men, only wired a bit differently.
But, at the end of the day, we are all but humans.. We all need the same things.. Love, respect and kindness.. A little bit of hope and some sunshine everyday. Do we actually need a 'day'  for giving somebody all this? To tell someone that you care for them ,  to tell them that they are indispensable or irreplaceable ..... do we need a day in the calender or an Archie's " Happy Women's Day" card ?





I am no expert on relationships or people ! But, I know that a surprise phone call, a familiar smile from a strange old lady in the market, a pair of mynas sitting in my balcony or just a small note from someone I care is enough to make me beam from ear to ear all day long. And, it need not be Women's day for all this to happen. Moments are special, because they are special.. not because the calender tells us so.



So, a shout out to all our "other" halves. If you care for a lady, tell her, tell her often, tell her every few days... don't wait for Women's day !!

Because...

Life is too short to wait for a right moment to come along.
Love is too big to fit it all into one single day!

Happy Women's day, people... :)

To butterflies and tomorrows...

Dear dear butterflies,

Butterflies in my stomach..

Why don't you sit still,

And let me fly instead..

Little little butterflies,

In the pit of my stomach..

It's scary I know,

But we got to move ahead..

Towards a tomorrow,

That I don't know..

Towards a life,

To have and to hold..

To some unknown places,

To some unknown doors..

Where you and I,

will be all alone..

Just me, silly old me,

And you, the butterflies in my stomach..

Fluttering around,

All day long...

In the pit of my stomach..

To- Tomorrow, whatever you are like.. See you soon..

Celestial light...

There is some place,

I go everyday in my mind...

Some place,

Where happiness I find...

In a small shell,

Stuffed with sunshine and delight...

I roll on,

In celestial light...

Why,

All the hue and cry...

It's all gonna be over,

In the blink of an eye...

Why,

Do I imprison my heart...

When life is waiting,

everyday for a new start...

So I push the door,

Break some windows...

Tilt my head,

And look up...

To the sky.

Someday I'll find it,

I'll find my celestial light...

Meeting blues...

I don't wanna meet you...

Can I delete you...

Maybe, for a day or two.

You give me a fright...

Which is as bad as a fight...

And a bit more worse too.

I wasn't born a coward...

But that's what I have become...

Running away from so many...

Lost count of how many from.

Locked in the loneliness I despise...

Which is also the best safety device...

I'm churning a confusing life choice-

Neither stupid nor wise.

Can I maybe not meet you...

And go ahead and delete you...

Try to forgive me, buddy...

But this is what I always do.

I don't wanna meet you...

I am deleting you...

See you in another life.