Silent Fading

What the hell I wonder, the nail paint from my freshly manicured nails is already chipping off, darn that manicurist, she sure the hell didn’t know what she was doing. The bloody dark black bitch. After all it was worth a lot. I just don’t get a manicure every day you know. Yeah I am cynical, over bored and frustrated with life. Taking out faults with people, bitching about any random person to an invisible audience is what I am best at now days.

I am easily influenced as any one paying even a bit of attention to me makes me feel loved, wanted and everything that’s missing in my life. I use the F-work or hell I use the work fuck a lot and honestly don’t care the fuck about it. Well I am fat, no, not fat, fat are those pregnant ladies, I am a bit obese, not pretty anymore with those crow’s feet forming at my eyes and definitely not a sight for sore eyes, and you know what I really don’t care about that. I don’t care about those who don’t care about me. Hell I think I myself don’t care about me. I am not sixteen anymore and neither have that sexy-to-die-for-waist to fill up those fuckers’ imagination. I am just an old forty year old virgin. I know you must be thinking it’s the title of that stupid movie which finally had a happy ending, but trust me I know my life is no movie, I ain’t getting any oh-so-charming or even just any man to love me for not how I look or behave but for the inner beauty of mine. Ah! I don’t even think it exists anymore. With time everything wears off. Just about everything. Life I tell you.

It’s no bed of roses and for a woman who won’t sleep without any wooing with the male population she meets, well for her it surely isn’t. I don’t care now if I look good or not, I really don’t care if those pan stricken teeth are not leered at me anymore. I really don’t care if there is no groping of my assets in the crowded stations. Life somehow feels easy, you don’t expect anything from anyone and neither does anyone expect anything from you. Suits me just fine.

I know it won’t make a difference if I just disappear, it really won’t. It won’t hurt anyone if I go missing or die, just like the blood trickling down my wrist doesn’t hurt me. It doesn’t make much of a difference. I do feel a bit woozy but so what, just feels like the wine has gone to my head. My vision’s blurring, but it’s not like anyone will cry when I am gone. Ah! Fuck it; I am done living for no one so it’s better to just die for myself.

Silent Fading

What the hell I wonder, the nail paint from my freshly manicured nails is already chipping off, darn that manicurist, she sure the hell didn’t know what she was doing. The bloody dark black bitch. After all it was worth a lot. I just don’t get a manicure every day you know. Yeah I am cynical, over bored and frustrated with life. Taking out faults with people, bitching about any random person to an invisible audience is what I am best at now days.

I am easily influenced as any one paying even a bit of attention to me makes me feel loved, wanted and everything that’s missing in my life. I use the F-work or hell I use the work fuck a lot and honestly don’t care the fuck about it. Well I am fat, no, not fat, fat are those pregnant ladies, I am a bit obese, not pretty anymore with those crow’s feet forming at my eyes and definitely not a sight for sore eyes, and you know what I really don’t care about that. I don’t care about those who don’t care about me. Hell I think I myself don’t care about me. I am not sixteen anymore and neither have that sexy-to-die-for-waist to fill up those fuckers’ imagination. I am just an old forty year old virgin. I know you must be thinking it’s the title of that stupid movie which finally had a happy ending, but trust me I know my life is no movie, I ain’t getting any oh-so-charming or even just any man to love me for not how I look or behave but for the inner beauty of mine. Ah! I don’t even think it exists anymore. With time everything wears off. Just about everything. Life I tell you.

It’s no bed of roses and for a woman who won’t sleep without any wooing with the male population she meets, well for her it surely isn’t. I don’t care now if I look good or not, I really don’t care if those pan stricken teeth are not leered at me anymore. I really don’t care if there is no groping of my assets in the crowded stations. Life somehow feels easy, you don’t expect anything from anyone and neither does anyone expect anything from you. Suits me just fine.

I know it won’t make a different if I just disappear, it really won’t. It won’t hurt anyone if I go missing or die, just like the blood trickling down my wrist doesn’t hurt me. It doesn’t make much of a difference. I do feel a bit woozy but so what, just feels like the wine has gone to my head. My vision’s blurring, but it’s not like anyone will cry when I am gone. Ah! Fuck it; I am done living for no one so it’s better to just die for myself.

The Party Girl

Ting tong! Is it the party calling? Well be all ready to glam up the party girl because that cute boy you have a crush on, he is going to look at you only when you stand out. Worried on what to wear and how to look all gorgeous without looking slutty. Well I just might have the answers. So what are you waiting for, take notes now and be ready to knock everybody’s socks out? Be the glam queen at the party with everyone oohing and aahing as you snog the best guy around. Can you see smoke coming out of someone?


THE BEACHY SURPRISE - prepare well when there is water around. No granny panties allowed, because anytime the scene can change from the beach to the water. So remember to wear a nice swimsuit or better yet if you have the body to flaunt then a bikini under your clothes. Keep the clothes you wear for the beach party to the minimum, as in no extras like scarves or stoles needed. Keep the jewellery chunky and yet don’t overdo yourself. Wearing shell s to the beach is a thing of the past and surely too predictable so leave them behind. For the feet stick to cute flats, or better yet pretty flip flops will make it better. The way to stand out is to wear some flowers or may be some earthy beads and look fabulous.



HOUSE PARTY- do you have a pair of dungarees lying at the back of your closet. Please do dig them out and try them on, cuz its time to throw a party in your house. Want to glam it up a bit then don a beautiful yet casual looking cotton sundress. To go for something different ,harems with a cute racer back will do the trick too. After all it’s a house party, you don’t want to wear clothes too tight and then spend all the time tugging them around. Right! Don’t overdo the jewellery. Stick to one accessory only. Go dance to the tunes and have fun girl.


PYJAMA PARTY- yeah I know, it is a house party, but sans boys and this is one place where you can show the girls that the pyjama party or the soirée as the new gossip girl term for it is, is the one place where you can be the crazy pink girl. Go buy yourself a beautiful looking pyjama with hearts or may be something sexy like a night gown that shows your curves well. Now wear those bunny foam slippers and a head band with a lot of lace sewn on it and there you are ‘the pink girl’. Fabulous and so girly. Don’t forget the pink nail paint too. To complete the look girl.


LOUNGE- this is the place where you take out the best dress you have, pair it up with your highest heels and take out the best jewellery. Oh yeah don’t forget your best make up too. The lounge is the best place to look the best with no reason for the whole arrangement to get spoiled. You don’t dance enough for your make up to get spoilt; you don’t walk enough for your ankles to kill you because of the heels. All you do is sit pretty and talk pretty. Go for shiny and metallic finish dresses or better yet go for a nice strapless chiffon gown and dazzle them all.



CLUBBING TIME- this is the best time of all. Time to look great and forget about it. Remember to stick to wedges or block heels if you want your ankles safe by the morning. But the glam girl has to wear peep toes with stiletto heels. Stick to satin or lycra this clubbing season. Body hugging is back with roses or zippers or even may be shorts. The one thing that’s ruling the roost is the boot heels. Wear long chains in metallic colours around your neck to finish up the glam yet chic look.


Go and let your hair down and forget that there is a tomorrow girls. Have fun shaking your glam clad booty on the dance floor. Do remember I will be there keeping an eye.

The life I left behind..

"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts"

Shakespeare said that...let’s see how it applies in the normal college life...

A normal day in the normal college, national institute of fashion technology. I am in the class, as usual not paying attention and lost in my own world of thoughts and words in a corner scribbling away to glory and half heartedly listening to what our guest faculty has to say.
One of the four air conditioners is working. Someone is playing with her pen, the tic-tac echoing around. There are people playing with their hair, some reading a book, a murmur of silence surrounds the whole classroom.
The backbenchers are as usual sitting behind. Discussing some things (I leave the topic of discussion for the readers to guess, but mind it, it was nowhere near boring). A giggle here, a giggle there, fills the whole back of the classroom.
The geeks a.k.a speckyees (now replaced by lenses) are sitting in front glued to every word he utters, noting down every syllable, every sigh, every a, an ,the, mentioned. The sleepers of the class a.k.a getting –bored-not-interested- are yawning and already half asleep, fighting to keep their eyes open and half of them perched on their neighbour’s shoulders. Suddenly they slip down the shoulder and realise that they are ain class and thus the lost fight to not sleep begins again.
Then there are the second or the third benchers, mediocre writing at times and at times looking bored, basically they are just confused wondering whether to be the geek or the outrageous back bencher. These are also known as the average normal kids. Then there are the male starved females (couldn’t find a better term) , who for today are next to the front benchers, batting their eyelashes , a half smile on their faces, pretending to be glued to every word said, lips tucked behind their teeth , they kind of swooning , as if every word he’s saying is the elixir of life.
Then the usual wannabees, fashionistas, jocks, nerds, all who need no introduction. Then the lovers without whom every class is incomplete. Who may be not sitting very close, are exchanging glances and smiles whose meaning only they know. Exchanging whispers, stares and smiles, oblivious to anything happening, around, just existing for each other. As cheesy as it sounds. It’s completely true.
A joke suddenly cracked bonding the whole class, while it lasts, every one listening to the same thing for a while, forgetting their roles in the class and being just a simple student for once. Well that it.
A subtotal of everyone present.
And then last but not the least “me”. What am I? In which category do I fall into? What am I doing here not concentrating on the lecture and observing the around and writing. Well you could say just a simple crazy foolish intelligent WORDISTA...

So Much For Fantasies

Holding her basket she walked ahead, taking small steps and craning her neck as if to see something. She did have that looking-for-something-look in her eyes. They danced around searching for something vital, life altering and they landed on that guy in the beautiful jacket standing near the bus station , the irises came to a standstill and fixed themselves everywhere but not on him. One look for today was enough. One look was enough to suffice the rage of emotion bubbling within her. What was she thinking, she wondered. She was a mother of two, a widow, who should not be eyeing stray guys on the road. Where were all those values which were pumped into her when she was a kid? Oh! How she wished she could control her heart from beating fast as she crossed by. She could feel his eyes burning her neck. His gaze was boring into her. The way he looked at her, it was clear that he had some feelings too, may be not that of love, but lust surely did come into sight. Her cheeks coloured red at that thought. Yes she wondered, a young widow who had not had the experience of being appreciated by a man in bed for a long long time was bound to have such thoughts, but about any random stranger. She felt a bit bad and naughty too at the road her thoughts were taking her. She was sweating profusely the sun bathing her with his light. Her hair was tied in a bun with a stray strand playing with her face. Her light pink cotton sari clung to her body because of the sweat. She knew she was no beauty queen in the garb she was in. All she could do was sigh and think about the days when she was well not this at least. Well all she could do was smile to herself and get into the bus which arrived. Normally he never got in, but today he did and he was standing just next to her. She knew he was behind her and just a tilt of her face was enough to see him. He looked delicious from this angle. A firm chin with a bit of stubble, beautiful gleaming eyes with thick eyelashes and muscled body with a sprinkling of fine black hair on the part what was visible from the t-shirt. She loved his jacket, leather she noticed; well he was definitely the bad boy types, she always was so attracted to. Ah! Life. It surely was unfair.
Her stop was nearing, so she went ahead and no surprises he followed too. The screech of the break bumped her against him and lo and behold she could actually feel those bulging biceps. Oh! How good they felt. She thought of her husband for a second.
She descended and he followed her. She walked ahead and he was behind there too. For a second she did enjoy it and then was scared. Her bags were too heavy and she halted for a second to take a deep breath and secretly praying that he would either pass away or come and talk to her. Well he did not seem to be the wasting time sorts and came immediately to her and in the most squeaky voice ever asked her “can I help you carry your bags?.” A girl would have had a more robust voice. For a moment she could think and then she collected herself and said, “No thank you, I will manage”.
With a smile she walked ahead. So much for her fantasies.

The Last Second

He lay there quietly. He was still alive as his skin still tingled with pain and his heart out of wanting. The blood seeping through his skin mingled with the blood of his friends. The pains searing through his whole body may kill him any moment, but he wanted to live. He wanted to live to complete the unfinished. The fence of his small house was broken, the well was unclean, and he yet had to tie the swing to the backyard tree. The last two lines of his favorite poem, the only poem he remembered from school by Robert frost came to him. “But miles to go before I sleep, but miles to go before I sleep”. He wondered if he really could cover those miles before he slept. He did feel woozy and wanted to close his eyes and just let it go. But hope tugged around and just the thought of her soft hands wanted him to live some more, wish some more.
He slithered towards the phone, shouting with pain, crying out loud the name of god asking him to help him. His right leg was limp and had lost every sensation. That leg was lost he wondered. But life is more important than the leg. He picked up the receiver with no voice on the other end. The phone was no good. Everything and everyone was dead just like the death surrounding him.
He just lay there thinking about his mother and how she used to pour water over his head at night, bathe his forehead and then sing to him. “O sweet child of mine, o love of my life and so on. The sweet memory still comforted him. The pain ceased for a while but was back to its hilt again reminding him of the reality.
From his pocket he took out the letter his wife had last sent him. She was pregnant she had written, she was expecting his baby. She had sent the letter 3 months back and was already 2 month pregnant then. She must be five months into pregnancy now, he calculated. How he wanted to feel her stomach, touch the bump, feel his seed kicking inside her womb. A good female she was. Not very beautiful but very understanding. Nor once did she cry nor force him to stay back whenever he turned his back to leave. He remembered how longingly she wanted that ring. How she had stared at it but not asked for it. He would buy it for her when he returned. Yes that’s what he would do. He will adorn her swollen fingers with that ting. She deserved it. He knew he loved her, he had never told her that, but deep down she was the one for him.
A loud wail left his mouth as the bullet inside his chest embedded deep. The blood gushed out and all he could do was hold himself tight. The corpse of his fellow soldier lay next to him. Good man that Pratap Singh was. He wondered what his family would do, as the sole provider was dead. The flowing blood now was replaced with water from his eyes crying in pain of the wounds and the pain of losing his best friends.
His throat was constricting. The air seemed to be leaving his lungs. He took the half filled water bottle next to him and drank, then just like his mother used to, he bathe his forehead. The pain unbearable he closed his eyes. Someone far away was singing” o sweet child of mine, oh love of my life.”

IT HAPPENED TO...errr

Well if I say that it happened to my friend then am pretty sure that all of you are intelligent enough to know i am lying.So why bother.Well it happened to me and before I say what, I would like to add that it was not one of my best looking days and I was very very tired.. As much as memory serves I even had fever.I had been out the whole day in the sun so looked really drawn and sick. Okay so now if you promise not to laugh out loud am going to continue the story..

So as it happened, I had to go some place from Dadar and as I reached the required platform the train was about to move so I rushed and climbed into the nearest compartment. The compartment next to mine was a general one and people were actually fighting to even stand where as my compartment which seemed general too was almost empty. After a station a female all decked up with two kids boarded the same compartment and the old man sitting in a corner shouted on her saying that it’s a handicapped compartment and she was not allowed there. The female panicked and got down at the next destination.
And it all left me wondering that why did the old man or any person sitting in the compartment for that fact say anything to me??? I had been sitting there for quite a long time and they uttered no word....ah!!Alls left to imagination...isn’t it???