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I cannot stress on the fact enough that life has changed after working. Well, it should because what good is stagnancy anyway. After a year of working, I find myself tired by the second half of the day. No wonder, every time I take a flight I doze off even before the flight takes off. I remember, I was traveling on New Year ’s Day and the flight was delayed by multiple hours. That was the first time when I woke up from a nap on a flight and didn’t find myself on air or on a different city. I woke up and we were still at the take-off area. But I had a good nap anyway. It was last week when I took an afternoon flight but couldn’t fall asleep for some reason. Like most journeys I was seated near the window, but unlike my previous journeys, this time I looked out of the window. We were just a couple of metres above of the clouds but the view was great. A blue horizon on a sea of clouds. I was lucky enough to spot a rainbow amidst the cirrus; the hues getting clearer with ...

For those of you who haven’t met me in person, I must, before writing about the miseries of wearing a bitch face, write why I say I have a bitch face. I am a plump woman with a round face and I vividly remember my batchmate at MDI, Nikhil, claiming that my “default face” is similar to a sad smiley, which implied people who didn’t know me would find it difficult to approach and talk to me. Similar were the thoughts of my Capgemini FLP (Freshers’ Learning Program) mate Alakananda who had said that if one sees me from a distance one gets the impression of someone with an attitude of arrogance. When a person is not smiling, it is quite understood that the person is either thinking something or listening or doing anything but not smiling. When I am not smiling people ask me, “What’s wrong?” I remember my first job at Capgemini when our senior Sashank would complain out loud, “ye ladki roti kyu rehti hai?” And since he would not give much opportunity to me to reply, I would jus...

( Because everyone around us pretends to be someone they are not and, maybe, so do we.  Maybe the person you truly are is only when you're all by yourself. ) I hope it's you The face you show me every morning, For I have torn masks before, I have detached pretty pink masks from dark red faces, I have burned those wooden masks so that they can Reflect the faces they hide. They don't. They veil a different anatomy altogether, A face that only a mother could truly love, A face that would push me to trauma for a few months, A face that brings along depression and loneliness. I have fancied those faces would one day turn white, Or a lighter shade of grey or blue. They don't. They bathe with blood every night I kiss them goodnight. They have bathed in the blood they stole from someone else alike. Every time I pull out such masks Stuck to their skin Knowing not the thin boundaries For they have, over the time, erased, ...

Source: Levo.com I set them on fire, The pillars of withered leaves Like promises long broken. The bridge collapses On a sea of grief. I set them on fire Like there was no yesterday Looking at this morning With remorse and a hidden pain. Ages have elapsed Like a strand of hair That loses its identity over time, Turning pallid painlessly. I set them on fire- The long tresses you so loved once, Touching my neck, And down my spine, Once or twice, a gentle peck. I have burnt bridges, More times than I have lit a cigar Or held you in my arms. Today I pin them down, I collect the ashes- Another bridge to build With grey pillars of Infidelity and torture. Love, they call it While I prepare for it to kindle.

Someday you will tell them your story. But darling, do not think that they'll listen to it. They will hush you up. "Pretend that it never happened," They will tell this as they avert their eyes. They will not pat your back. They will not see how brave you were. They will only see the scars and not the wounds. All they will wish for is those scars to disappear. But dear, when you have born those wounds With all your heart and might, Dare you not lose the scars. Scars that define who you are now, Scars that will tell your story When the world will shut their ears, Scars that will pat your back And remind you of the courage you had shown, For, darling, you will need to be brave Again And again.

Broken bones and a bruised face, He checked the mirror- The nightmare's back again. Palms that bled and fingers without nails. An empty heart and a blank page. He feeds himself on the frozen salad- Last year's leftovers, he did not forget. He could let go of sleep Or he could sit and bleed. He chooses to embrace the red So, within the four walls, he stayed. Why stay when you can leave? But all of this has happened before, Not a curse, it's a habit, he said.

Exactly a year ago, I was stranded all alone on the highway of Kharghar​, devoid of people, with the cell phone on my hand losing its marbles just when they were needed the most. Two men and a flock of goats were the only living beings to be seen on the road, if I do not take in account the grass that lost its greenery to the dirt of the vehicles that pass by, probably years ago. I went to one of the two men - the one whose clothes were less disheveled than the other, but disheveled nonetheless and as dirty as the grass I stepped upon. He combed his dark, oiled hair with his long and thin fingers as I approached him. I ask him in a polite tone, hiding the desperateness inside me," Bhaiya, aapke paas mobile phone hoga? Ek call karna tha". He shakes his head and I almost lose all my hopes on making a call to my friend. He says, "Phone nahi hai. Par mere tab se call ho sakta hai, Chalega?"

So many years have gone by And age has made both of us A lot older than we used to be, A little wiser than we used to be. And when the yesteryears Enter stealthily through the doors Of a veiled moon and a dark cirrus, We look back at what we used to be And what we have become today. So many years have gone by And I don't see a single sign of you And you see me not in who I am today. I have changed as I should have - I have built a small hut in a new village now. You still are in the city we used to live in. And maybe we'd have been so much happier now, But I have changed as I should have And you, you still have those grey hairs Like the rays of moonlight falling on my face now. And when I have changed as I should have, You still live in the city we used to live in, Looking the way you used to look, And maybe, just maybe, you haven't changed a bit, The way you should have changed.

Of late, I have realized I left too many doors open. I have this habit of not shutting the doors when I should, of leaving some space as tiny as a cleavage. Some doors I have shut a long time back. I didn’t simply shut them; I slammed some, the way only a teenager does when she is angry because her father snatched away her iPod. Some doors I struggled to close, one inch a day. A few of these doors are still left ajar, not awaiting someone’s arrival, but knowing there is nothing to hide behind closed doors. Closed doors – I think it’s easy to close the doors, to hide underneath the blanket of comfort, to pretend there is no world outside. Of late, I have realized easy is no fun at all. I have been trying to unlock the doors I shut eons ago. The rusted latches refuse to comply. Some doors I closed a few years ago, are giving up trying to stay shut. I look at the rooms these doors protect – mostly empty, devoid of the life they once used to hold. Was it only after the ...

Come to me when the fear does overpower and I will lull you with the tales of valour fear not the fear lurking inside you like the demons, it will be defeated too Come to me when grief strikes you hard and I will sing to you the songs of a bard grief too will falter, sorrow will leave and the shelter of joy together we will weave Come to me when you think you are all alone and I will show you it sits not on a throne it is love eternal that is within your heart loneliness will elope, don't break apart Oh, come to me when you feel there is evil and I will remind you of your true will for there's good within you, mighty and pious evil will diminish, in peace it will leave us Come to me when cruel seems your life and all that's bad, we together will wipe come to me when nothing seems alright we'll overcome with our spirits blithe...

Published in Fried Eye - the magazine on 15 September 2013 Click  here “Utopian dreams” they call it when a young girl or boy, mostly in their teens, dream of having that perfect life of “one true love” hyped by almost all the movies in the world. Let it be a movie on patriotism or a superhero movie, there always is an element of love present that gives the audience a good feeling about it. Yes, indeed love is important and I believe it is essential too. Because without love how can a mother give birth to her child or how can a father gift his child with everything the little one asks for. Without love there would have been no friendships and no protective siblings too. But when people do not put conditions on their relationships with friends, cousins or parents, why is it that one expects and demands so much from one’s spouse? Why are there the insecurities and jealousies that help the once-good relationship to fail so miserably? And then one is left to cry alone, feelin...

You know what people can do to you? They can make you feel like you’re on top of the world. And then they can gently give a push so that you tumble down and hurt yourself. They can love you and then they can ruin you. They can make you feel that you’re the best and then they will begin to find the flaws on you. They can show you what’s wrong with you and they can make you feel miserable. They can let you know that you’re beautiful inside and everyone should be like you. And then they can tell you what and how you should be like. Agree? But can they? Really? I believe they can’t. Well, unless, of course if you let them. Thick skin, some people call it. But what I believe is that rather than having a thick skin that is immune to all the criticism of the world, one can just learn to be happy while having a thin and all-absorbing skin too. If you’re peaceful inside and content, not complacent, with yourself how can anyone’s opinion bother you? How can a break-up s...