Tuesday, 24 April 2007


Came in from work last evening, carefully turning the key in the lock as I juggled several bags of shopping. Tossing the lot onto the bureau, I was groping along the wall for the light switch, when I flicked a casual glance towards the fish tank.

A serene warm glow emanated from the light that was switched on inside, bathing the fish in an ethereal halo. There they were, gliding along gracefully, a casual swish and flick of a fin at intermittent intervals. No jostling for space, for a slice of the pie or running a seemingly never ending rat race.



Some days were just so perfect. They'd lie together contentedly under the shade of the ancient apple tree growing in the garden, lazily sunning themselves like crabs on the beach. Chewing on a blade of grass, he'd suddenly turn to her, demanding to know whether she loved him. Yes, she'd assure him, a smile in her voice. How much?, he'd persist. This much, she'd respond, stretching her arms wide. They'd collapse together onto the grass, giggling like schoolchildren.

On others, they'd sit together enveloped in a comfortable silence born of years of bonding. She'd take up her crotchet, while he'd read the dailies, skimming the finely typed pages. Sometimes he'd read aloud an interesting snippet or two.

Reminiscing - it could be therapeutic. Or traumatic even, depending which side of the scales you were tipping.

The mug slipped from her now cold hands, hot coffee splashing onto the ivory walls, leaving a mud coloured trail behind. She didn't feel the searing heat when a few drops scalded the delicate skin at her wrist. Why did he have to die? Of all the people milling around campus that bleak winter morning, why was it him, caught in the shootout at the school? He, who'd normally never venture out on one of the season's coldest days unless it was absolutely vital. What made him take that step, one move in the wrong direction?

She'd never know. Just as she'd never feel warm again.


Warily, I look around.

I've kinda started to avoid family gatherings these days. Or those parties / events wherein close friends of the family tend to gather around like buffalo at the watering hole.

I turn to find a bejewelled, silk-draped auntie nudging my elbow and grinning, glass of Pepsi in hand. So, good news kab hai, haan? (So, when's the good news then?) There I am, mentally rolling my eyes inside my head, and thinking, good news for whom? Me, or the auntie in the violent violet coloured sari? I mean, having a baby is fine, but that's just it - that's merely the beginning! I'm so tempted to ask auntie - so I'll have the baby, yeah, but who's gonna babysit? You? Who's gonna change the diapers at the ungodly hour of 2 a.m.? You? Who's gonna wipe Baby's snotty little nose and run around with the washcloth? Are you? Naah, I'm sure that's all part of my lot. Oh, happiness!

I'd suggest let the good news be. Until the time's right.

Tuesday, 10 April 2007


The cold, drab season
Of the heart
the mind and
the body.

Nowhere to be seen
except for
White and

The Wind.
Chills to the bone and
the warmth seeps out
by little
by little

You can never get warm again.


Life can be such a bummer sometimes. While one moment you're upbeat and happy, the next you could very well be so down in the dumps and feel horribly low - any lower and you'd beat a daschund's tummy that invariably hangs down to the ground. The easiest thing to do is to blame it on the weather, another individual (ooh, how convenient, and so much more fun!) or on some raging hormones that make you feel like you're being zapped inside the blender jar.

So, what gets you down?