Shrivelling

Maybe it's just me trying to explain my insecurities through others. I'll lash out, accuse, scorn, dismiss. I'll be brutal because I'll be scared. Scared to let lose the hatred that stays, ready to spring forth, desperately restrained. There's a sick feeling in my stomach that wants me to throw up. It's venomous, it shouldn't be there, it screams out. It's not you, it's the thing you drink religiously, everyday, with chemist like precision. Its what that tastes almost sickly sweet in it's quality. It's slowly poisoning you, smoke filling up would be better. This is sly, it creeps up on you. You're shrivelling up, every day, your eyes hollowing, your breath shorter, as you rasp out nursery rhymes. Can't you feel your hair grow rough underneath your touch?

Concentric Circles

Balconies aren't given their due. Someone's ac drips and the steady drumming on the green roof that covers windows that hide their own secrets is almost black and the yellow light light up patches that are nondescript in the day. A stream of water makes its way lazily to my toe while someone's shoulders shake. It is chilly here, someone wraps a blanket around our bare legs where the mosquitos have left their mark several times in the last hour. Strange, we never noticed. Silence comforts, minds drift in different directions while someone absently hums a familiar tune. The air is colder than usual, but inside they want the ac. A stool in the most inappropriate of places seems to be the most natural thing in the world. Sometimes things consume us. Balconies always need a railing.

Will wonders never cease??

Ma bought a laptop. For herself. I never really believed that she'd actually buy herself an expensive piece of equipment until I actually saw her writing out the check. Then not until we were walking out of the electronic showroom and hailing an auto did I realise she's taking it home with her! Okay, backtrack. My mother is a hard-worker-who-struggled-her-way-to-raise-her-seven-younger-siblings-on-her-own-passed-her-MA-with-a-first-class-first-and-refuses-to-take-an-auto-when-there's-a-bus-refuses-to-travel-in-a-rickshaw-when-she-can-walk-it-okay-you-get-the-general-idea. She once reprimanded me for going to GK everytime I had a free period and when I asked her what I'm supposed to do, she suggested the library as if it was the only sane place one could ever think of. She refuses to let me buy her a cord for her glasses and makes me make them out of wool for her. I've never thrown away a piece of crust because it's blasphemous to even want to do so. She will make me get her shoes mended and re-mended until they're held together only by the thread and nails the cobbler uses and then grudgingly buy new ones. She'll swear by her ancient floaters and wear them to the university, the local market, the party at the five star hotel her authoress friend shall throw and give you an extremely surprised look if you gently ask her if she wants a new pair. She will sew and darn her apron but not use the brand new one that has been forcefully bought for her. She will hum and haw a million times before getting a haircut just because it means spending a hundred bucks on herself. Meanwhile she'll buy me new clothes, new shoes, new memberships and increase my pocket money with only an appeal to spend it wisely. She'll exclaim how worn my brother's trackpants have become and secretly hand me money to go buy him new ones which he'll never wear. She'll suddenly buy my father new sweaters and explain to a very surprised baba, you dont have many. She'll exasperate everyone around and go on with her ideas about right and wrong and never, NEVER deem it necessary to buy herself anything. So now do you see the gravity of the matter?? She bought herself a laptop! Of her own accord!!

Sigh. Now she's working on it, typing nonsensically to 'increase her typing speed'. I was just called to explain to her the complex workings of the shift and caps lock keys. An excited ma wanted to show thakurma the new laptop. An apprehensive me waited for the anticipated digs at how much she had spent on herself and how things used to be different in thakurma's time. A very delighted me witnessed something completely different. Readying myself to start speaking vehemently on ma's defence about how she needs a laptop, and how she earns more than enough to deserve one, and so on, I came on a complete stop and had to take a double take when thakurma very timidly asked, Nandita, aamayo iktu dekhiye debe, aikdeen? (Would you teach me how to too, one day?). Ma grinned and thakurma grinned and now a Microsoft Word intermediate is teaching a computer-barely-beginner how to work the machine. Life is good.

Midnight blue

Up and down. Every reason to be down, and we buzz. Time to bob up, a deep plunge down. Hurried steps, a promise to come back. The promise vapourises, something missing, something we left behind. Sudden remonstrances, the skies don't cover you today. Belafonte and rain, throw in a few analgesics. Retch a little, hold back what you can.

Split second

Live for the moment. I am unafraid. Not a coward, these rare moments. At that moment, i feel. Forget consistency. For I feel. Consistency can be a lie. A prolonged moment, don't hurt, don't promise. Hush.

A proud toss of the head
Unafraid
The stride is surer
Unafraid
The truth, easily asserted
Unafraid.
I live. I breathe. I exhale.


Triumphance is usually short lived. Enough. Carpe Diem. As long as it's only you. Otherwise you don't have the right. Responsibilty, selfish ain't good.