Thank you


Thank you.

Thank  you for judging me, yet again. I felt naked when you sliced me with your moral knife and looked at me through the befogged views of the people around you. That helped me to care much less about them.

Thank you for slamming that door on my face or else I would have kept sailing through life under an illusion that I chose the right set of people.

Thank you letting me know that I don’t exist for you or else I would always see you breathe. Pray that you don’t see me ever in your life again or else I will make you see the dark side of the moon.

Thank you for bringing out my dark side.



Weird soul


I am a weird soul.

On lazy Saturday afternoons, I would just look at you. Look at how you blink while you look out of the window endlessly. Look at how you hold up that coffee mug. Look at your fingers.

But some afternoons, I might not look at anything other than words. Words in the books, words in my diary.

I might be a man of family. But some days, I would need to be a child, caring a little less about how irrelevant things turn about.

I would take that step to mend our ties if things don’t go well between us, but some days, I would need you to tell me this,

“Come, let’s have dinner together.”

I might make love to you in a way you would remember, but some days, I might need to just sleep being wrapped around you.

I would, most of the days, let you have the whole day for yourself. But some days, I would need you, just for myself.

I told you. I am a weird soul.



If we were to go for a coffee!


If we were to go for a coffee today, I would’ve told you how I wouldn’t stop loving him for everything he is.

I would’ve told you how I would still walk with him even if his dreams, his desires, his beliefs change with time.

I would’ve told you that I wouldn’t stop admiring him for everything he does for people around him.

I would’ve told you that I wouldn’t stop loving him for what he will become with time.

I would’ve told you how I would still use my left whenever he cannot use his right.

And yes, you are right.

It is bliss.

The dark side of the moon


I don’t trust you. I don’t trust your words. I don’t trust the breath you take. I don’t trust a single cell in your skin.

Your laugh makes me sick to the core. Every word you speak makes me want to snatch that breath away from you that was lingering around your face.

You have taken me from a happy being to virtually empty.

Yes, you have emptied me like an empty box of cardboard which was full of stories. You have emptied me like a photograph with erased people and objects. And not only you, but you, you, you and you have pushed me down the dark gallows. Oh no, it was not you but in reality, me, who let you bury me. It was indeed me.

It is very easy to just hold somebody else responsible for your disturbed state of affairs, the easiest of all the tasks. Equally difficult is to own up to the situation and accept things the way they are.

You are not the people I would ever want in my life again; because you are not the ones I can afford to keep around me. I gave you something which I should have given to people whom I couldn’t identify were gems. I gave you my time.

A part of me had already died long back; another part has been decaying for some time now and I cut it, now, to stop the whole of me from perishing into the oblivion.

He woke up with a start, sweating.




I can still see them standing at the gates of her house, looking at each other, silently.

There was a brief moment when they had stopped talking.

Both of them knew it was time but they just stood there, not knowing what to do.

Unwilling. Unrestful.

“You should go.”, he said.

Pursing her lips, she just nodded in agreement and with a heavy step, turned around.

He stood there for a few more seconds, turned around and started back.

Clouded mind. Unsure.

He walked along the peripheral wall of her house, she walked on the pathway to the doors of her house.

She reached the doors of her house. As if she was never going to see him again, she turned.

He reached to a point behind the peripheral wall that opened a view of the pathway. He could see her walk back.

As she reached the doors, he saw her looking for him.

As she reached the doors, she saw the deserted gate.

Not finding him at the gate, she moved in. Incomplete.

He, started back. Turmoiled.

I can still see them, standing at the gates of her house, looking at each other, silently.


Day One – My story


Saturday, 12th July, `91

I could see it on his face that he was too tired when he came back home last night.

“I am so happy to see you today!”, said he, seeing me at the door.

“Just today?”, I quirked, to which he went laughing.

As he came back freshened up, he held up the newspaper lying on the center table and sat on the sofa. All this while, I could not stop smiling.

“How was your day at office?”, asked he.

I giggled. I could not hold it back any further. Taking control of the situation, I coughed to cover the giggle.

“It was usual. Same old same old. How was your day?”

And he started his animated stories. I waited for sometime for his stories to end but seeing no end to them and failing to hold my story back, I walked to him and sat on my knees in front of him. He was flipping through the pages of the newspaper. Seeing me sitting in front of him like that, he stopped.

“What happened, Aayra?”, said he.

“Why are you smiling?”, said he, now with a hint of amusement on his face. Apparently, I was smiling ear to ear as I sat there thinking how to say it to him.

I told him, looking just at him, soaking in every expression on his face, his every touch, his words.

I told him my story.

Day Zero


Friday, 11th July, `91

2:00 PM


Waiting badly for him to come home today. I want him to be the first person to know this. Just cannot keep it to myself and hence I am confiding it in you, diary. I will soon be a MOTHER!

4:00 PM

Cannot wait anymore. Calling him 😀

4:05 PM

Did not call him. I want him to be in front of me when I tell him. I want to see him hear it, see him soak it in. I want to remember the way he will respond. Period. I cannot tell you how excited I am!!

5:00 PM

How should I break it to him?

Should I say something very special or should I just keep it free of any frills?

Just plain and simple.

“You are going to be a DAD!” . Just that and see the drama unfold 😀

Too excited. I cannot imagine I have another life taking shape within me. Slightly afraid too though. Will I be able to give birth to the baby?


एक कदम तो बढ़ा!


सपने सच होते है, राहगीर
एक कदम तो बढ़ा|

किसने रोका है तुझे
इस जंगल से उड़ जाने को?
क्यूँ डरता है तू
खुले गगन में लहराने से?
क्या बाँधे है तुझे?
आ, उसे तोड़ दें|
जो जकड़े है तुझे,
उसे झकझोर दें|

एक कदम तो बढ़ा|

क्यों विचलित है तू?
मन शांत क्यों नहीं?
ये आँख में आँसू हैं क्यों?
चेहरे पे शिकन किस लिए?
निश्चय जो किया है,
उसे .द्रन्ध बना|
कठोर नही लेकिन
मन को अचल बना|

एक कदम तो बढ़ा|

कोशिश कर, एक बार
बार बार, लगातार
जो रोक रहा है, वो रुक जाएगा
जो बाँध रहा है, वो काट जाएगा|

अपनी तकदीर खुद लिख, साथी
एक कदम तो बढ़ा|
सपने सच होते है, राहगीर
एक कदम तो बढ़ा!



Regular chants from a distant temple seemed like calls from the past. Echoing relentlessly across the dawn sky, they were dotted with majestic shankhnaads. These stir you up from within, unsettling you at times. At other times, that shankhnaad, envelops you with a strange feeling of familiarity, just the way it did today. And familiarity brings peace, calm.

Fighting with these voices were the sounds of vehicles plying non-stop on the road, a stone throw away from the balcony. Vehicles of different sizes added tones to the music. The rattle of an old autorickshaw, the screach when a car engine starts , the sound of the huge tyres of the load carriers rolling on the bitumen roads blanketing every other noise till far away and that pumping of a superbike which zips past the others like a bullet piercing the walls. Chaos.

In this war of sounds, in this struggle between calm and chaos, it dawned. Gracefully, just like the parting of grand curtains at a theater house. The dawn promises that just the way a drama unfolds its layers on stage, today will unfold.

The lights, traveling through the vast and silent space, now played in the playgrounds of sky above us; their play gave colors to the patterns of clouds. They played with the mist, swinging on the tiny droplets of water, glowing them up, blanketing the whole sky with an orange hue. And as the lights giggled and ran around the swings, the sky shimmered.

Traveling far and wide, coloring the dark but yet calm sky, lights reached us. And then they saw you.

They ran across your skin, around the curves of your fingers, jumping into and out of small dips on your hand, lighting up every pore, hanging onto your hair, sliding down your face, playing merrily for the rest of the day. Blanketing you with an orange hue too.

Sounds. Lights. Happy New year.



The blank face


I saw it’s face, today. In your eyes. And I remembered you asking me, if I have ever seen death.

The face was as blank as a piece of an un-inked plain paper, without any wrinkles that you see if you look at the paper closely.

Nothingness personified.

Featureless, the face drew me in and held on to me. I could not see what I was looking at few moments back, your eyes. All I could see was that blank face with it’s terrifying emptiness.

It felt strange, uncomfortable.

When I whispered out your name, you slowly replaced that face. Relieved, I said,

“For a second, I could not see you. I was scared.”

But wait.

I could hear you speak but it did not correlate with your face that I was looking at. It was just an illusion, your face. Panicked, I shouted,

“Who are you?”

And it vanished. My illusion was replaced by you, in real.

“What happened, you fine?”, you asked, worryingly.

Relieved, I closed my eyes thinking that next time I open them, I will tell this strange thing to you.

But the next time never came.

The learned, the philosophical ones say that there is only one thing that is true in everyone’s life – everyone who shines in the light of birth on Earth, will be wrapped in the mystic darkness of death, someday.