Tuesday, April 27, 2010


I remember I called her sissy. Laughed at her and made faces. Was a part of” her hating crowd”. I know I was one of them, one of those kids who involved her in the games just to have a scapegoat. She never asked us if she could play. She just stood there watching us jump the rope or swing or do anything small girls do. We were the ones who invited her and then made fun of her. Called her names and then laughed at her. All of us together and she alone. Just on her own, fighting her own battles or actually not fighting at all. That’s why we called her sissy, dumb, loser. These were the names we associated with her. Looking back I still remember the way she responded. Not by uttering a single word from her mouth but thousand from her eyes. They looked hurt every time we said something but she never answered back. Never, not even once. I used to wonder why?
I was her neighbour. We shared a common wall and am sure my room’s wall was her wall too. Because I could hear no voice from the other side at all. She had no father and her mother made enough noise to make it clear that it was she next to my room. I was really excited when she moved next door. She was about my age and her mother was excited enough to tell my mother and all the other mothers around that she will be starting school soon which turned out to be mine. I was happy. I thought I was given the gift of a friend, a friend who would tie the string to her cup and then tie it on mine so that we could have those telephonic chats through the window in the night. Boy! Was I wrong? She never spoke a word.
We all commit mistakes, don’t we. Well here was my childhood sin. There she sat on the swing in the park one day. Combing her Barbie’s hair. I had a similar Barbie and I wanted to play with her. I went up to her and said hi. She just smiled. When I showed her my Barbie all dressed up proudly and asked her if she wanted to play, she just smiled again as if mocking me and went back to combing the hair. That made me furious. I snatched her Barbie, beheaded her and threw her on the ground and stomped away. I still remember the look in her eyes. At that time that look salvaged my childish pride and made me feel like I had won that battle but today thinking about it makes me wonder how cruel can a girl of five be.
Her mother was hospitalised. She had some disease my mother wouldn’t tell me. I knew it wasn’t cough and cold as you don’t go to the hospital for such things. Then one day my mother told me that her mother went far away to meet god and will come back after many years. She was sobbing when she said that and somewhere I knew she was lying. Her granny took her away. She waved at me while leaving .I just made a face.
She faded from my thoughts then till today when I overheard my mother talking to an aunt about her as my only disabled friend. I asked her about it and she said “now don’t be such a kid". You know na she was dumb”.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

the teenager

Confessions of a teenager: from a girl to a lady.
A woman sees a lot of changes in her life. From an infant to a girl, a girl to a lady and a lady to a woman and then a mother.
A girl to a lady, she discovers a lot of truths and shocks which change her being for ever.A delving into the certain female of how she discovered lady hood at her doorstep and welcomed it.
An innocent girl dreams when just entering her teens dreams of those movie heroes she sees, the hormones churning inside her make her conscious suddenly of the males around her, that is what happened to me when I turned thirteen. Though my mental state was still that of a kid, a wary feeling for the males around did engulf me later. At those moments the movie heroes, Jack of titanic or Raj of kuch kuch hota hai were the ones who kept my feelings alive and later the fantasies of the prince on the white horse coming to rescue me from the bondages of home fuelled my desire to grow up soon. Ah how I wanted to have those curves as those beautiful girls on screen and look like them.
A certain elder female residing near my house made me jealous because she was better looking than me, had better curves and boys looked at her ignoring me where ever we went. Initially she was for me the nice and cute neighbour and elder sister who taught me to ride a cycle or the one who used to stitch my Barbie’s clothes for me, but suddenly she was the rival like any other girl. Just some days and all was forgotten because of these hormones.
A big change in my life. I remember how those simple jokes initially thought to be grownuppy stuff made sense and a smile tugging at my lips of knowing things which I supposed no one knew always remained intact. The stories made more sense now and books like Nancy drew and hardy boys lost interest. The miils and boons and the harlequin romances mad e more sense and made my dreams kind of nearing reality.
Talking of dreams, well they are the most beautiful possessions of mine of that time. The dreams are so pure, so untouched and so virginal. That was the case of my dreams. Beautiful yet different than the earlier ones.
Dressing up was something I always liked but suddenly I wanted to look really good. Those hours in front of the mirror looking at the tiniest detail of my face and figuring out the best features, plan to enhance them was a common thing . Combing my hair for hours and hours together staring onto the space. Being lost in thoughts was my new favourite hobby. It was like being born again with more understanding and intelligence.
I knew that time had come. I was no more a kid now. The girl in me would never be dead but it would never the4 whole of me. It was like I was the larva, metamorphosing into the beautiful butterfly. The process had begun and I knew it.

Monday, April 19, 2010

The burial

I carry the coffin. It’s too heavy. Need your help there. Are you going to help me or as always stay away? I have to lift the coffin, will you please come and help me lift it or just let it go as usual. The coffin carries the past which is heavy. Will you help me carry it, lift it, cremate it. Put dirt over the coffin and shed tears over it. Will you do that or just sleep as you always do. Or will you once in your life help I hold it. Feel the weight of the past, the love, the feel of the feelings. Will you? Should I let you go without any questions and will you just go away without any answers. Will you just do that to me? The coffin is getting heavier, the tears flowing from eyes are making it heavier, and they just won’t stop. They are just rejoicing the death of our love, our beautiful love. See by this they even flow harder. They are happy to dance around my cheeks and my heart is sad to shed them. It is very sad. It was the part that I put in the coffin. I did, I really did. I let it go. Just let it go. Because I don’t want to be a person who wakes up one day thinking why did my perfect love be so imperfect? Why did it fail? I don’t want to wonder about things. So I put my heart in the coffin do that it won’t have such questions. It won’t ask and won’t love anyone so much ever. It just won’t, and thus I won’t be hurt. Am learning. But will you come with me please to lift the coffin. Please. Do come. Do help me out. We will bury it at last and then get it over with it. Today don’t leave me alone as u always do please.

Friday, April 9, 2010


t was 8 o clock in the morning except it didn’t feel like the morning... the sun was no were to be seen, the sky not bright but dark with clouds all around. It was raining. A beautiful morning except for the brightness there was a melancholy in the atmosphere. The rain kind of a cry of nature, the clouds cascading around as if have been here throughout. A rain that gave you a want, a want of something special. Yes that is how it made you feel. I was up, just like a lazy cat lying there. Every day the bright sunlight pouring through the windows awoke me but today it was the want, the want to go outside and feel the beauty, to take the droplets of the rain on my fingertips and kiss them or may be, be my love r for the day and beautifully comb out the hair entangled because of the wetness.

I opened one eye, looked around, everything seemed the same, the fan moved pretty much the same way I had seen it before sleeping, my nightgown lay there at a corner discarded the way it was last night and other than the draperies soaring high everything was there the way it was. But still I felt different, very in fact. As if the weather had made a flower grow inside me, which was blooming. Don’t know why but my heart beat was racing, like it used to happen before the exams, or the first time I had kissed. I could feel that it was a day of happening.

I sat up and removing the heavy blanket covering my body I flung my arms high in the air and stretched. Closed my eyes for a second and wished that whatever’s to happen be good and with the smile still intact dancing on my lips I made my way to the big widow.

The draperies were given a rest and tied at near the corner. They were not flying any more. But surely my heart was. I could see the droplets slithering down the window pane, making patterns on them and the reflection on my skin. I bet my face with the tumbled mass of my hair, and the reflection of the dancing away droplets looked umm....quite black and white or retro I guess.

My hand as if involuntary went outside to feel the wetness and every drop falling on the skin ran a shiver down the spine as it was cold, very in fact.

The rain beckoned me out, to feel it and cherish it, to admire it more closely, and I not wanting to hurt its sentiments as the others running away from it did made my way out to let it engulf me.

As the thunder and hum of the rain on my skin sang to me, another chord of music joined. It was someone standing behind me.

He was there, walking towards me in long strides, his travelling bag slung casually on one shoulder and flowers in another. The midnight subtle was forming a shadow on his chin and he looked tired. He was back home early. I looked at him confused with a flower unfurling in my stomach. He rushed brushing those tiny droplets clustered at the tips of his hair and took me into his arms and said “I missed you a lot”. Those words were enough to say it all.

As I walked inside into the house, I smiled to myself. I knew this morning would make something happen and it really did.


We all come with big dreams, big aspirations to this city. We all come here to fulfill our dreams which we have been dreaming since we were kids. We come to this city to make new friends, to lose ourselves in this city and be a part of it. We come to this city for being everything we are not and everything we want to become, but as we come here what happens to us? Do we still remain the friendly, chirpy, going out in the evenings, having fun person or we become an unfriendly person with constant tension. With a mask on our faces that does not show any emotion, does not show whatever is going inside and we are mere carcasses with a bit of life in us. May be your heart cries but the mask eyes don't show it,not wet at all, may be you are joyous but the mask's lips don't even curve. Ah! Such is this city. You come here in search of something and in the end lose yourself in the crowds.
Do you even know your neighbor's or even the person sitting next to you on everyday basis name?

You have friends but are they true bosom friends or just some people you need to hang around with. Well as you can see you come to this city to make a change and the city changes you. Your priorities change, your emotions, feelings, thoughts change. Is it the city or we ourselves change us to fit in?
Ah! tough one , but not one that the heart cannot answer..