28 Jan 2014

The Love Note

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Her eyes sparkled with interest and mischief as she assessed me across the table. I glanced at her, quelling the urge to hold her stare. But she was a vixen, as she blew the smoke of her cigarette and continued to look at me, as if saying:

If you want me, satisfy me

I pick up the glass of whisky and feel the chill from the ice cubes floating in it as a reminder of reality and the reason why I was there, in the chilly night, trying to get a deal fall through. I was single and working and it wasn't new when women hit on me. They were always the same, talking with their eyes and being discreetly inviting. And I, I would politely refuse their advances. I had loved once. And that would be the only time. Once was forever. It had taken a lot from me to keep the real me alive in this garb of a rich, perfect and famous man.

Are you really here? Or am I dreaming?
I can't tell dreams from truths anymore.

But tonight, she was there to save me. She was different.  I know, all of them are. All of us are - different. But her crassness - no - her boldness was attracting me. Not in the way that I would want her in my bed. But in a way, which would make me take her to the distant lands and ask her story. She had one. Everyone has one. But hers would satisfy me, I know.

When I get really lonely and the distance causes only silence,
I think of you smiling with pride in your eyes, a lover that sighs...

I finish my drink and walk up to her. She looks at me again, most certainly expecting me to proposition her. I do not speak but give her a note. She seems surprised as I pick up my coat and walk towards my car. I do not expect her to come. I do not expect to see her again. But I know if I wished and tried hard enough, I will find my match. 

Are you really sure, that you believe me?
When others say I lie.

I wait in my car, with bated breath. After 10 minutes, I see her walking towards me. She was a glorious glorious woman. Her black sheath dress reminded me of Audrey Hepburn from The Breakfast at Tiffany's. May be, it was ironical that I was going to pull off a similar stunt. But no, that was a legendary tale and such tales do not happen daily. I take in her appearance, her long auburn hair, her casual walking wrapped in a nervous air and the look of anticipation in her brown golden eyes. She was exquisite, yet so vulnerable. 

I wonder if you could ever despise me,
When you know I really tried.

"Thank you, for letting me out of there." She says, her voice like feathers and autumn - not too sweet, not too cold. I nod in acknowledgment and start my car. She is breathing heavily, but it is definitely not the physical energy that is bothering her, it is me.

                                        For it's been so long since I have seen you,

I can hardly remember your face anymore.

 She is afraid but thrilled. Of a stranger who left a note. I am taking her to the distant lands - to the outskirts of the city, where my stories take shape. I had not written in a while, after She left. But here she was, waiting to be woven in a tale again. She was to be my muse. She was to be my story. 

And I'll do what you ask me,
If you let me be free.

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"I have never got such a note before. Aren't you disgusted by me?" She is curious. She has been turned down by many. Always. I look at her and smile. "The note should be the reason enough to satisfy you about what I feel."

"I know who you are." She says. I am not surprised. Of course, she knows, which is why she agreed to come with me. 

"I want you to know who you are." I say, as we disappear into the darkness. 


PS: The verses in purple are from the song "If you want me" by Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova. You can access the song here - 

22 Jan 2014

The Beautiful Ones

She stands there, with a melting candy in her tiny hands,
Staring at them, tearing each other apart, with words,
And it all appears so majestic and so grand,
Killing each other without dying, with words like swords.

She wonders if that's what the lions do on the television, but with their limbs,
What her mother father do, on some dark nights and blinding days,
Screaming and yelling, marking places, her presence becoming dim,
As they forget and deteriorate, that she was, the one like sun rays.

She does get afraid of what will she do,
If like the lions, they hurt each other?
And she tries to butt in, between the two,
Who look at her and wonder...

Together, they pause for a second,
And look at the scared wide eyed child,
who was once theirs but now looked abandoned,
And it was them who had made her wild.

What have we done to you and who are you now?
Do you remember us or we are there no more?
And she stares at them, not understanding what or how,
She wonders and smiles, the play's over and it's time to bow.

She hugs them both and then makes them cry,
for may be it was not too late and for one last time,
she looks at them, making them try,
to start loving again was never considered a crime.

PS: Inspired by "The Beautiful Ones" by Poets of the fall. Do give it a listen, it's truly beautiful.

16 Jan 2014


She stood there, among chattering people, laughing freely and involving everyone in her conversation. I made my way towards the group, hoping to see whether they belonged to my department of study, when she made a brief eye contact with me and asked, "Literature?" I gave her a quick smile and approached the group. 

She asked my name and reacted, "Oh! YOU are Nikhil! We saw your Rank and name on the list! You are the topper, eh?" She nudged and winked at me, while we laughed (I was thinking all the way, are they stalkers?). I excused myself from the group and made way to the Admissions Office, but the image of the laughing girl stuck with me. She was strong, too strong for my taste, yet I felt that I wanted to know her more. In the procedural nitty gritty, I let her slip out of my thoughts but when I made my way towards the orientation hall, she was there again, with a larger group of people. I thought she must be some kind of a debater or a leader. I decided to keep my distance. I wasn't comfortable with the ones like her. She reminded me that I would want to be like her someday. 

I left the University, after the dinner party, promptly moving on and getting ready for the classes which would begin in two days. I saw her this time, in class and felt an irresistible pull towards her. She wasn't an earth shattering beauty, but she wasn't average either. She had long dark hair, that touched her lower back and it didn't help that she clutched it with a small clip. The tangles and swirls around her face, made me feel like touching her hair and moving them away from her face. Her face.... I couldn't take my eyes off her eyes... they were big and round and alive! I felt myself light up every time she was around, but I still hadn't spoken to her and she always seemed surrounded by people, so I decided to just look at her. It was not just physical attraction that I felt towards her, it was the way she was around people, asking everyone of their problems and offering solutions, knowing everyone's name and making everyone comfortable and just making it all right....I felt an incredible amount of respect and restrain, both for her. 

It was three weeks into the University, when she came to me... for some general conversation, I felt unprepared. I let my brain talk and be normal but our interactions increased. I started to feel afraid of my feelings for her. I imagined her with me, talking and laughing and just looking at me... I imagined her telling me that she feels something for me too...but then I would immediately brush away these thoughts and concentrate on studying. One evening, while working for an assignment, I developed a massive headache. We all shared a single apartment with different rooms along the corridor and she was giving head massages to the girls, when one of my friends who treated her like his younger sister, told me to go to her. I refused and said no. If she touches me, I would die, I thought. He called her and asked her to help me out. I refused but she just gave me a look and held my head. After fifteen minutes, I felt like I was in the bed of down feathers and felt the headache disappear. She ruffled my hair and asked me to go to bed. I thanked her once and left. And then I mentally kicked myself for not saying anything the entire time and for just running off like a shooting arrow. 

It had been four months since we had been talking, when she had a fight with her group of friends for me. They were teasing her incessantly and she just flipped and they accused her of being mean. I tried to intervene but I messed up too, by blaming her friends for her pain. She was hurt. I didn't see her the hold day. Rohan, my friend came in charging and yelled at me, "Dude, wtf! You made her upset! Be a man and go talk to her! She is my sister and if you do anything to hurt her, I will break your jaw." He threatened me but I saw true concern in his eyes. I got up and went towards her room. I knocked her room door, which was unlatched. I entered, my heart beating like a clockwork. Her back was turned towards the window and somehow she knew it would be me. "Please leave." She said. I didn't. Something told me that if I didn't fix this, didn't tell her how I felt about her, I would lose her forever. I stood close to her and tried to talk, "Look, whatever happened was a miscommunication of epic proportion. I would never ever make you choose. In fact, I would leave now, just came to check on you." But I could feel my heart breaking. I turned to leave, when she spoke, "I didn't believe them that you had feelings for me and I never thought you would tell them first, that you did."

I had never thought, I would cry. I mean, I had never cried for a girl before. I had never ever even taken any one seriously. Heartbreaks in my past had shaken me to the core, to I had decided to stave off love this time. But, I couldn't resist her anymore. I was in love with her and I had to tell her myself. "Umang... I didn't want you to know it that way. But..." I held her shoulders and looked in her eyes, will with pools of tears which had already overflown, "...I love you.I am hard to love...and I have not really loved before, so I wouldn't hold anything against you. I just don't want to lose you..." I held her hand and waited for her to react. I knew, if she denied me now, I will never be looking at love the same way. 

"I don't want to lose you either, Nikhil. You are like the other part of me, the better one..." She said and looked at me and smiled, and I knew I had found love. 

5 Jan 2014

Speak No More...

The pain, the hatred, was excruciating. But she could not even whimper. It was burning her insides, with its intensity, with its urgency to be let out, pushing through the socket of her eyes, pushing through her heart. Her mind threatened to burst but she just stood there. Smiling. At her mother. Who had just gotten her a wedding trousseau, without her knowledge. She was barely 19. But she did not speak up. The slap was enough to shut her up. 
Every time she had tried to raise her voice, she was threatened with dire consequences which either involved her or her mother's life. 

"Isn't it wonderful, sweetheart?" Her mother said, sounding like a mother after so many years, but only for the fact that her daughter would finally be gone.

"Yes Mamma. It's your choice after all, has to be wonderful." She smiled, trying to fight back the tears. There was no one she could talk to, no one who would help her, and she didn't dare approach anyone, since that would involve breaking her mother's heart and she could not risk that. She couldn't help if the medicines made her mother asinine, she still loved her, loved the mother who she used to be. 

"Try it out, why don't you? Oh, actually, never mind, the creases will break. I will any way see you on the day of wedding!!" Her mother trilled, excited. She didn't dare ask, who was the man this time, previously when she had asked, her mother has almost injured her and tried to kill herself. She was only safe since mother found out later that the man was married. 

"Would you like to meet the man, Megan?" Her mother asked sweetly.

"No Mamma, it's all right. I respect your decision." She spoke, trying to swallow the tornado of emotions swirling through her. 

"All right then! Help me peel those potatoes, you can study after that!" Her mother called walking away muttering to herself that Megan wouldn't be studying anymore anyway.

She followed her mother listlessly. As she walked by the kitchen, she noticed a man standing at the door. He was chewing something and staring at her. She yelped, which brought her mother out, "WHAT did you DO? Did you trip AGAIN?"

"No Mamma, a man...!" Megan pointed at the door. Her mother's expressions changed from mild surprise to sheer joy!

"Ohhhh! Mr. Samuel!! Oh Megan, you stupid girl, he is your would-be-husband, the Sheriff!!!! What a dumb girl! Please come in...please!!!" Megan's mother hustled and opened the screen door to let the man in. 

"The Sheriff...?" Megan left the sentence incomplete. She knew that Sheriff was not a very nice man. He was now in her living room, being fussed upon by her loony mother and staring at Megan with a leer perpetually fixed. 

"Would you like some tea?" Megan's mother asked and before he could say anything, Megan was sent to the kitchen, much to her own relief. 

Megan stared at herself in the ornamental mirror that hung above her mother's cutlery stand. Her reflection looked back at her, with resolve. Megan had wildest thoughts running in her head. Her dark red hair fell in waves down below her shoulder blade. Her eyes were deepest dark brown. Her brows were arched in rebellion, no wonder her mother thought she always looked like she was questioning her authority. Her lips were pursed in a thin line and her chin jutted out. Suddenly, she had a mean smile playing on her lips. She looked beautiful. She looked indomitable. She took a glass of water and carried it to the hallway, where she could hear words from her mother like "so generous and kind of you" "she needs to be taken care of" "thank you for the money"... Megan squelched all her feelings like a stray weed and moved. 


There was a fire within her which she had suppressed for so long. Not anymore. As she entered the living room, her mother and the Sheriff gave her a look of mild surprise. Her mother regained her composure and said, "What took you so long, you slow cow?!"

"'This." She threw water at Sheriff's face, pulling and throwing her mother on the floor. Her mother let out a cry as Megan took out a dagger and stabbed Samuel through the heart. He couldn't even move. The Pathetic git. A slow rumple of laughter raised from her chest. She turned towards her mother, who was getting up on her feet, her scream stuck in her expressions of horror and disbelief.

She pulled out the dagger from Samuel's chest and held it towards her mother. 

"You....You don't deserve to live... First selling me to all the men you desire and now you get them home... what do you think I am?" She said calmly. 

"Megan.... please..we needed money..." Her mother pleaded.

"Money? YOU needed MORE money!!!! And now you won't need it anymore, Mother!! I will take care of it..." Megan let out a blood curdling scream and gutted the knife in her mother's heart. The surprised expression on her mother's face remained so as Megan slashed the wedding dress, taking the dagger with her and running out of her home into the night.

And no one would stop her anymore...

3 Jan 2014

Adios Two 'O' One Three - My Worthy Nemesis


2013 was an year with immense downs and lows with little glimmering hopes like fireflies in the night sky. I feel, the impact of 2013, whether good or bad, still lingers. In fact, every year that passes by, leaves its imprints somewhere deep down in our hearts. Whether we learned something or not, that is totally debatable, but yes, another new year has come by and definitely brings an array of new hopes and new things to happen. 

I had thought 2012 was bad for me, given my mother's health and issues at University, which was nothing in comparison to 2013. It started with a lot of promise of good and wonderful, but I was blinded by over optimism and hopes and dreams which had sprouted wings. And then I was rudely thrown on the floor, to be jolted out of the rosy dreams I had been watching and to witness the stark naked reality that had been glaring in my face for a really long time. 

I had traded my soul for momentary happiness, but I am glad I found my way back home. But events of grave nature were a highlight of 2013 and some of them have taken so much from me, that I am still battered, recovering very slowly. The scars are deep and I don't know if or when I will heal. The nightmares continue interrupting my sleep and so do my fears, but I am, with the help of few amazing people, inching slowly on a road to progress. 

I have made no plans this year. I will take things as they come. Sounds like a plan, no? :)

There has to be more writing and more grounding and I see MSM somewhere, trying to peep out too. So you may get more to read about the mystical happenings soon! :) 

Dearest, 2014 - Just let me gather as much strength and patience to walk with you till the end. Happy New Year to everyone! :)