Saturday, March 31, 2007

Letting go

"How about a drink?" he asked.

"No, thankyou."

He looked perturbed.
"What's wrong?"

"Did you know that you can miss something you never really had?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, confused.

"I am constantly haunted by your absence. I would rather not be tormented by your presence. And the absence that it silently promises."

Friday, March 30, 2007

Best Friends Forever

"You know he's been cheating. Why won't you sign the papers?"

"I won't let him be happy." countered Zoya, bitterly.

"But you're denying happiness to yourself, too."

She looked shrewdly at her best friend.
"And you as well?"

Aarti looked up, startled.
"What do you mean?" she stammered nervously.

Zoya sighed in resignation. "I know."

The Revenge of The Insomnia

“You a med student?” “Nuh-uh”, shaking her head. “Really? Not in med school?” Really, really she wants to say, trust me, I’d know. She just smiles. Walking off, he tells his bud, “She really looks like she’s in med school. Y’know?” She runs to the mirror. Just how dark are those circles under her eyes?

Another life....

She is lost, sad and listless. And then a pop:
“You will have to promise me a signed book, from the first batch that comes out.... no excuses allowed.”
She gets blinded by the shutter bugs, the mics jostling for her words. Her photos splashed all over.

“Have you completed the appraisal normalization?”
Another life…..

Ego & Alter-ego


“So how do you find my writing? How about commenting?”

“My comments are an interesting insight into the writer, not for the larger world.”

“Am curious….”

“There is a distinct aroma of rebellion---like a caged bird, who has unlatched the door (but may be slightly frightened to fly out) -- what an outdated analogy!!!”

“No, it is awesome.”

“But I do see a person, who wants to challenge convention, who sees different shades of the world that most people see, but probably is also saddened that other people around her do not see things in the same manner.”

“There is pain, vulnerability.”

“You can also be vulnerable to happiness, right?”

Thursday, March 29, 2007


She flounced airily in, wearing one of those lacy creations. Threw a smile here, a wave there, whispered conspiratorially with the hopefully-flirty waiter. Her usual came in from the kitchen; she sat down with a set jaw to another solitary dinner. She’d decided to stop feeling sorry for herself long Fridays ago.

love story

The rain forced them into the bus shelter. As usual she was wearing something that made her look like a wet porn star. As usual he hadn’t wanted to pay for a cab.

Leaning against the bike with no plans of an evening and a shared damp old dusty smell, he wiped a trickle off her big nose.

life story

She woke up one morning and decided to be a writer. She could go on forever about Travel! Or Food! Children’s stuff, fantasy, the cup brimming over. She would start her first book tonight.

As life ebbed away 36 years later in the psychosis unit bed, she figured it had been a good shot anyway.

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Quantum Mechanics Isnt All Cool

The world flickers. He makes it still again. A herculean effort. Eyes wrenched open.

"E equals m to the power of 3/2 into v 3/2 into T 3/2 into pi 3/2 by q into...

Thus we see probability density becomes independent of fermi level."

Why can't I be independent of fermi level??

He sleeps.


"Ssssshhhh! They're sleeping." Helpless giggling. Simply cos. Tip-toe tip-toe tip-toe. Giggle. "Ssssshhh". Open fridge door. Yellow light. Milk. Two frosted glasses (the good ones that amma won't let us use). Cookies from the jar. No plates. Only crumbs. Tip-toe tip-toe tip-toe. Stumble. Unstoppable laughter. Flushed faces. Furious breathing. Eyes screwed shut. Covers up. Amma smiling.

No more games

Her monotone, drained of exasperation, drawled
I can’t handle this anymore. I think we should stop talking. No more games.

A week later, much tempted, she thought
I didn’t say I wouldn’t call him though, did I?

Then she sighed and reminded herself that word solitaire was a game too.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

will power

Don’t stare at him, don’t stare at him, don’t stare…I peeked at him from beneath my eye lashes.

NO…No looking at him! I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Maya, I hate to break your reverie, but could you please read ‘Ode to a Nightingale’ for us?”

The class waited.


This was going to be tough.


You were around; I could feel you, like I always did, even before I actually saw you.

You smiled as you saw me, knowing that I’d waited impatiently for you.

You opened your arms wide.

I ran towards the comfort of your touch.

I opened my eyes to gaze into yours.

You were gone…

A heavy wooden block

So she’s going through a block. (Ouch, a writer’s or what?)
First, she was easy, then sad and now restless. Sieving through, she got stuck on whom else?
But You

Does it not deter her?...I mean not receiving responses to text, calls and emails?

Well, she still says “Hi! Long time…”, holding her heavy block!

Monday, March 26, 2007

Inspired by corny pick-up line

He nervously shuffled his feet.
"What do you want now?" she snapped.
"Jaanu, don't be mad."
"Don't be mad? You cheated on me seven times! Enough is enough."
He grimaced. "I love you. I'm sorry."
"Doesn't quite cut it."
"I would go to the end of the world for you."
"But would you stay there?"
She sat on her bed, in pyjamas, imaptiently chewing on a nail. She couldn't possibly call him again. She jumped, startled as she heard a car pulling in. No, false alarm. sigh.

The phone rang. Shivering with anticipation, she answered.


"Beta, we're home. Come down and we'll take you to get icecream."

She smiled.


Excitement writ large on two faces

Martinis. Classic.

Smiling, he murmured

How do I make it?
Childlike glee turned cherubic disappointment
Charmed, he promised fairy godmother-like
Don’t worry, I’ll find out!

Wish I had a flowing gown to match that classy conical glass!

I’d wish I was on a romantic date but this is better!



Martinis we said, not champagne!!!

No glasses available, ma’am

he tossed

Enthusiasm renewed, they faced each other

3 olives, 2 olives, here’s yours and here’s mine and here’s to us!

It’s so…Bitter?Awful!Absolutely!

Martini dreams discarded, they split a dish of calamari and reminisced often during the friendship born over a disastrous martini.



“The beer is getting to you”
Naaah!” I slur, a little.
“Come, let’s go home”
As we step out, the maître de calls him aside.
He comes back grinning and whispers.
“Pull up your zip, Pee
W h a t?”
Here, lemme help you” he winks and pulls me close.
The elevator thankfully was empty.

Saturday, March 24, 2007

Non Sequitur

Words screamed red in his head. They were unclean. Unbelievers. Spewing blasphemy at his Sacred Truths. If he didn't do something now how would he explain to his God why he had forsaken Him?

So he blew up the 8 year old boy with the terrified eyes. An offer of proof for the Merciful One.

To thine own self be true

She looked about furtively
Pulled her coat tighter and entered
He was waiting at the end of the room
She was crying for the first time in days
But his serene smile gave her strength
Even as the blood caked on his wrist flaked off
There was no need for words
They were instantly one


She left discreetly, an hour later
Allowing herself the luxury of a faint smile
Before donning her trademark frown along with her coat
She couldn’t risk anyone seeing her
Self-preservation was her forte
And if seen, she had no answer to
What’s an atheist doing in church?

Friday, March 23, 2007


I writhed in pain. Screams escaped my dry lips.
No one heard me.
Probably, because it was all within me…
I’m tied, chained.

To myself…

‘Leave me’, I screamed.
Someone smirked from above.
Pulled at my chains. Felt blood.
Someone laughed louder.
I pulled harder.

I’m free…

Gazed at the chains that’d tied me,


Another life....


Every night he calls when she is just by herself and none other. They talk till the skies clear up…they fight, dream, love. Often, he calls her into his arms. Often, he raises a red flag warning of their illegitimate addiction for each other.
They go to bed knowing one more day is breaking.
Another life…


Small lights flicker through the matchboxes in the sky.
She shrivels up in bed. The print in front of her gradually gets blurred. There is a wheezing noise in her head, like that of distant seas in a conch shell. The light gradually dims creating a haze. The empty bottle on the table.
Another life….


He locks the door of the study and the ante-chamber. Then he carefully dials the secret number on the safe and pulls it apart.
Trrring..ring…ring the sound of crashing gold. He lets them fall in a heap near his feet.

Then he takes out The Powder, nicely wrapped in cigar boxes and smiles.
Another life…


She feeds her little boy, tells him an improbable story and tucks him in bed. Then she quickly grabs a bite and gobbles up the excess too not knowing when and where the next meal would be.
Then she checks her pre-packed bag, her make-up kit. Calls a rickshaw saying “Galaxy Dance Bar.”
Another life….

Thursday, March 22, 2007

The L-Word

“If you came home and found me making out with another guy, what would you do?”, she asked idly. “Tear his eyes out”, he said. She giggled. “What if you came home and found me making out with a girl?”. “Depends.” “On?” she lifted an enquiring eyebrow. “How you feel about threesomes”, he grinned engagingly.

Half baked conversation

Scene I

He: So, what plans do you have for the evening?

She (please ask me out): Nothing are you doing?

He: Movie. Why don’t you join?

She: Oh sure.

He (Shit! I was playing around, doesn’t she get that?): (smiles)

She (wow blue skirt? No maroon drawstring….will we have a post-movie dinner? What is he thinking?)

Scene II

She (am I looking pretty, my eyes..): Hey am ready, where are you?

He (Oh no!): May I finish off watching this game?

She (Oh no!): Yeah sure thing.


Twiddling her fingers,
She: Well, why don’t we order pizzas? The movie can happen later.

He: Yeah I have got a dinner to attend.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Not Flaff, This

She sat staring at her inbox, willing it to blink..
"Why so down?" she inquired.
"I only get comment love when I am angsty.. I plan to embark on a hunt for angst.. I shall find it and be very unhappy.. and everyone will love me."
"You have discovered the secret to happiness, o wiseling."

Afraid?? Me? Hah!

I went for it.

Once strapped, however...

Words of encouragement around me, passed by like the light wind, both of which I felt not.

I was a perspiring mess.

Only failures lead to success! Or whatever. Dont worry.

I looked below me. First time wall-rappelling is not the best time to say that to yourself.


Note: Did I overshoot the time limit? Some idiot says a picture is worth a thousand words. Lol. Sad na? I specialize.


Three a.m. Only two hours until she had to leave.
His snoring was deafening. The weight of his arm, unforgiving.
Looking around, she sighed. The walls were stained with patches of an unbecoming, reddish sepia. Like paan juice, she thought.
The creaking fan caught her attention. Ironically, it had O.K. stamped on it. She winced.
Scented paper, the most expensive kind. Two pens, one pink and one green. (Only pink would be too feminine.) She sat at the cafe, alone, carefully penning out a letter. On her way home she dropped it into the mailbox.

She smiled. Tomorrow, the postman wouldn't answer her hopeful eyes with ones filled with pity.

The Flake

She sat waiting for him, munching happily on her cadbury flake, ignoring the people shooting her dirty looks. He walked out, exhausted, smiling as he saw her. Noticing the chocolate, he looked at her incredulously.

"You're eating a bar of chocolate outside the gym?"


"But it's a gym!"

"I felt like a flake today."

Monday, March 19, 2007

The security of shadows

No, he doesn't have two heads. But sometimes she feels like she does. At the very least, two personalities. Here, her insecurity means nothing. But he makes her laugh. He makes her think.

"Beta, don't talk to strangers." runs through her head.
"Strangers have better candy," he smirks.

She smiles. "Maybe it's time to rebel."

To all the Non-believers.. Read and Weep :)

“Our team sucks. Cricket’s a really boring game, anyway. Don’t see why anyone bothers watching it. And that Sehwag! I can bat better!”

“ No, no, I’m at work. No world cup – schmurld cup chutti for me.”

“What!!!!!! OMFG!!! I can't even come home!! My boss will pitch a fit!”

Have Faith, Fickle Indian!


She sat across me in the train. I scrutinized her- Pitiful, thirty-five going on sixty.

I envisioned her slogging over a fire in some chawl.
Slaving for a heartless man and ungrateful children…

Her phone rang. In perfect English, she said she was on her way for the meeting.

Suddenly, I was even more pitiful.

the disease

Everything was spinning. Nothing made sense. Random images flashed in her mind. Incoherent thoughts. Logic had deserted her.

She shut her eyes tight, as if to block out disjointed images from flooding her head.

‘The tighter they shut,’ she thought, ‘the more I concentrate.’

It didn’t work. She stared blankly. She had it.

Writers Block.

Saturday, March 17, 2007

Seven Years’ Bad Luck

They installed Magic Mirror 2000 (wall-mountable) the next day, but the damage was already done. The old mirror had shattered – into a thousand pieces, no less. Sighing, the evil queen lamented, “I suppose that silly chit will escape the woodcutter.”
She eyed the poisoned apple ruefully. She didn’t really want to put it away…

Friday, March 16, 2007

Nomad XX

I might be making numerals up now *sigh*. But love the new twist :)

They loved each other, knew each other. But perfect relationships just didn’t work for her. She had been unhappy. Now, thankfully, he would never know.

He tried to stop looking for hidden messages in her posts, but couldn’t. Had she been unhappy? Had it really been an accident?

“She swerved instead of braking. Probably panicked.”

Courtesy Kaushik

You and I

“You didn’t!”
Yep, I did” he smiled.
“You booked five rows for her?”
“I would book the entire theater for you” he smiled again.
Liar! The show was houseful because of you!”
“I didn’t know you then”
“I would have killed you!”
“I would have kissed you”
“It’s never too late you know” she smiles.
She was unknown to me
but I know her now.
I have never heard her speak
but now her words float in my memory.
I have never seen her
but now her image is everywhere I see.
I have never met her
but I know somehow.
Unknown, unheard, unseen
She is now everything to me.

Courtesy Poorabednes

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Nomad XIX

He typed a comment about the accident, but didn’t publish it. She had always said that her blog was a journey that wouldn’t end.

She smiled as he left. He had always given her what she wanted, even when she didn’t ask. She wanted her blog to be like her, a story with no ending.

Courtesy: Kaushik

They're People Too...well, sorta

“What’s the one thing you wish would happen today?”


She waits impatiently.“If you can’t even think of one thing, your life is really sad.”

“What’s your one thing?”

“I want these cells to mate”, wistfully looking at her cultures on the benchtop.

“You’re rooting for yeast sex?? And my life is sad?”

The Rose Garden-III

“Isn’t my lap so wonderful? Wait, let me see how beautiful you are….” said Uncle T, hoarsely.
His eyes glistened while small drops of sweat gathered on his temple and above his grey-brown lips.
He stank of something and she hated to be near.

It has been more than a decade since she screamed in pain.

The Rose Garden-II

It is a chilly evening; the smell of the freshly-baked chocolate rum cake mingles with YSL-Cinema and Daddy’s cigar. The wine can’t wait with excitement.
The twinkling light on the porch dulls the living room lamp.

Upstairs she follows the red bubbly slowly trickling down her wrist on the white floor.
Rebirth on Christmas Eve!

Time, perhaps? V

He thinks, loves and goes places, meeting new people and learning new words. He dreams of his home in the mountains with tall conifers and fresh, misty mornings.

She is right here with her dreams, listening to her own heart-beat.

In the quietude of Nothing between, will he reach out before they run out of

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Everyday VII

Every morning he woke up wanting to be with her. Every thought of hers he wanted to know. Every word she spoke had to be addressed to him. Every second she was away from him seemed a blank, airless void. Everyday he wanted her to be completely his. Everyday.

And then one day, he didn’t.


“I hate the way my life is turning out…you know?” she says, looking down, fidgeting with the food on her plate. “I feel so tired and old… It’s annoying…” she looks up at him across the table.

He smiles and says, “Yea I know…”

She smiles and thinks, “He’s sweet”

He smiles and thinks, “PMS...”

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Time, perhaps? IV

They gathered in the visitors’ ante chamber. One-by-one they checked the clauses of dividing the heirloom of grit and gumption.

Then one of them walked into the silent, eerie room. The artificial respirator was the only thing that was seemingly alive.

He picked up daddy’s hand and held the pen before they ran out of…

Time, perhaps? III

“Hurry up! The crowd’ll be here any moment. I can already see the horizon reddened with fire.”
“I know. The news is that they have looted the treasury of the next village”

Their estate burnt behind them with cries of “Vande Mataram!” and they fled in a carriage towards the unknown, before they ran out of…

Time, perhaps? II

It was a slow spring evening. The house was dark and sombre.
The fan trudged along slowly, very slowly which made a noise keeping with her heart beat….dhuk-puk,dhuk-puk…
A little light trickled in from somewhere ensuring that nobody knew they were there.

They made love…once, twice, so many times, before they run out of ….


I'm fast running out of Roman numerals I know.

Nomad XVI
A nomad. Without home and roots and anchors and binding, limiting ties. Going where the wind takes her, to faraway lands, places unseen.

In her head, she was that person, headstrong and independent. In real life, her adventures were limited to 20 minute taxi ride from home to office. And back. Six days a week.

Nomad XVII
Every once in a while, the routine, the meetings and the endless smiling got to her. Then she would sneak out to the fire escape and stand at the very edge, her back to the building and all it stood for. And the wind sweeping in over the sea would beckon with its wild tales.

The wind was the perfect lover. It didn't try to woo her with flowers and fancy dinners and stories of feats of strength. Instead it talked to her till it was hoarse, and even after that. They were like Othello and Desdemona. She fell in love with its stories. If only it'd never stop talking.

Courtesy N

Sometimes VII

Sometimes, he wishes things had been different.

That he hadn't had to leave. Not that way.

That he hadn't been so blind before.

He wishes for just one more day of happiness together. Before...

Sometimes he wishes for strength to throw away her last love-note from his wallet.

Not only sometimes. But still.

He's helpless.

Sometimes VI

Sometimes, when she wakes up at 3 in the morning, it all makes sense. There is perspective. She knows she doesn’t matter in the grand scheme. But it’s ok. She can live with it. She goes back to sleep content in her insignificance. The vastness of space is accepted. Peace edges in.

Only sometimes, though.

Sometimes V

Sometimes they wonder. Sometimes they think clearly. Thoughts coming as a crystal clear stream, flowing gently but continuously down into the valley of their minds.

The thoughts are their own, not fed by others. Their pondering at once amazing, yet so obvious to them. They were always curious.

What do I want really?

Only sometimes though.

Monday, March 12, 2007

Sometimes IV

Sometimes they lose themselves in each other’s arms. They traverse their varied past, go over and over their present and catch fleeting moments in their eyes.

Sometimes they shudder to think of the unknown future but soon enough love like there is no tomorrow.

Sometimes they celebrate their unusual lightness of being.

Only sometimes, though.

Sometimes III

Sometimes he dreams of his villa on the hill, his family gathered in unison at the evening prayers, his flourishing warehouse of knowledge. His lover in his arms where the great river starts her journey.
His funeral, his insignia.

Sometimes he wants to pull the trigger and play the game of gold.

Only sometimes, though.

Sometimes II

Sometimes at day break, she feels there is nothing in here. Why does she have to live this day? Why does she have to do as it is done, talk when spoken to?
Why can’t she jump off the cliff?

Sometimes as the day darkens she feels like not going back home.

Only sometimes, though.


"Oh yeah, amma. Such fun we're having."

"No, no dont worry about that. Ram cooks excellently."

"Oh, the sound? Some friends have come over. That's all."

"Oh." "No, no. I have to go myself. The guys are calling me."

"Ok. B'bye."

He switched the TV off and faced the silence. Darkness can hide some things.

Nomad XV

He checked her blog. Two weeks since the last post. Fifty six comments, the last thirty asking her to come back. Was it her obvious vulnerability that attracted people? Or her quirky sense of adventure, her stubborn refusal to settle down or to grow up?

"My deepest condolences, sir. Your wife was a wonderful woman."

Courtesy Kaushik

Among Other Things

As he asked her questions, he looked her over. Beautiful hair. Set just so. Curls falling gracefully down her back. Perfectly creased black suit. Little tote, black. Pearls at her neck and ears. Face highlighted flawlessly. She’d brought her CV, requisite black brief and a blinding smile.

Too bad she’d left her brains at home.

Nomad XIV

Starting a new category: Commentspace. So if anyone doesnt really wanna join but leaves a 55 in the comments space we can just lump it in here.:D

Sometimes, I think I should give up. I’ve run scared, lived in the pages of second hand romances, cried quietly in the dark. It’s now time to settle down, grow roots. 
But then the wind whispers to me, telling stories of the places it’s seen. And I’m a nomad again, restless and a little crazy.

This one courtesy N.

More truth

Did he kiss you here? What, lady? Did he hold you like this? How many times did you make love?
I don’t want anybody to touch you ever, do you get that?

He held her tightly against his body till she couldn’t breathe any longer.
She deserved that for a truth gone awry years ago.

Sunday, March 11, 2007

Everyday VI

He sat down at her table. Uninvited! He talked. She politely didn’t listen. She looked over his shoulder at the dollar exchangers. Were they disappointed too? She wanted to interrupt. Give me back the hope of everyday, she wanted to say. Be like I imagined you. I have my standards.

I can’t help a soprano.

One night...

‘Shhh. They’ll wake up.’
‘No, we’re professionals. Hehe.’

‘Pass the tools. Wonder why there’s a high-safety lock on the back door.’
Clang went the tools as they hit the floor.

One minute.

No movement.
He carefully picked the lock and crept in.

Someone’s up!
He bolted.

Sleepy voice: ‘Honey, forgot to close the front door?’

the date

She noticed him from afar, standing by the counter buying tickets.

She smiled to herself at the way he looked over the crowd, a little frustrated – he was looking for her.

A surge of love filled her every pore, she couldn’t imagine life without him.

She walked up to him, “Hi daddy, sorry I’m late…”

the meeting

I saw him again last night. He looked thinner than I remembered – happier too, maybe.

He didn’t notice me at first, but then I caught his eye.

I wanted him to come over and talk to me –I wished it. He didn’t.

I wanted to go over too. I didn’t.

I hate dreaming about him.

Saturday, March 10, 2007


Sometimes, her thoughts turned violent. Sometimes, she wanted to dig her nails into her discolored skin and drag her hands until the fat flesh underneath was revealed and the crimson tide ebbed from her body. Sometimes, she wanted to bend her stubby fingers backwards until it met her wrists and dangled limply.

Only sometimes, though.


“The pressure of doing something on a Friday night always got to me…” she said with a gleam in her eye, “so, now, I am…”

She watched her sitting in the chair – bound, gagged and shaking with fear, and continued to sharpen her butcher knife.

“How’s this for a Friday night plan?” she smiled madly.


6pm - The proverbial ‘Friday-night-party plans’ begin to formulate all around her.
She makes several calls-

What you doing? Oh, you busy, no just wondering – ya, for sure some other time.


Hey, we should meet up… No, no, I didn’t mean tonight...





It dawns on her. She has no friends.

Friday, March 9, 2007

Everyday V

Faintly amused, she looked at him stride towards her.

She knew the routine.
Last minute loss of confidence, an unnecessary trip to the bar, the dollar being exchanged. Everyday.

So she was startled at “You are Jesse’s friend?”
“Can you help me find her?”
She slumped back..

They didn’t exchange the dollar that day.


I can’t bear it any longer. I can’t skulk in the darkness forever.
I have to sneak a quick look. I just have to!

Gingerly, I lift the curtain…


I creep back to the corner, shaking.

I sink deeper into the shadows.
An impatient tap.
“It’s time.”

I walk numbly.

Stage fright is normal.

distant love

They pass each other in the office corridor and occasionally she has the nerve to look him in the eye and nod a ‘hello’.

From a distance she watches him on the phone, almost devotedly.

She tries to suppress it, but the thought pops up yet again.

“Maybe he’d like me if I wasn’t fat”



“I have to tell you something” He says slowly.
He leaves the door open and lets her step inside.
“Oh good! Me too!” She beams.
“Tell me…”
“We are going to have a baby!” She hugs him tight.
He sits down on the sofa with a thud.
She hasn’t seen his packed suitcase upstairs yet.


“I have to tell you something” He says as she opens the door.
She smiles.
“Shall I get you tea?”
“ I don’t know how to begin…” he trails off.
Don’t. I have packed your suitcase”
“You can leave before Vicky comes back from school”
Yes, I saw her message last night”

Love of another kind

She tries to breathe through the smoke. Another chicken burnt to the bones.
Damn! But she knows, he wont mind.

She opens the door for him to walk in.
He comes in and lays his head in her lap. Looks at her adoringly as she lays out the chicken.

Sniffing it, he wags his tail

Everyday IV

Disappointment flickered on her face for an instant, as she lost momentary control.

You cannot...

She relaxed. She couldn't expect more.

She nodded at the men exchanging the dollar. She saw them too. Everyday.

She liked the tranquility here. The silence of glances. Let it be. She wondered how he thought.

Sigh...Let it be.


It's been years, I know. But often the most inane things, like a whiff of the cologne you wore that night, get me thinking about you. And I wonder... are you still wandering, restless? Elevated in flight, haunted by your own insecurities?
It is indeed a strange bird that cannot find a place to land.

The First Girl

Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes. No...Yes...No...Yes...No...Yes...No...!

Yes...Noooo...I'm going mad!



He looked up. Another guy was leading her away. She vanished into the dancing throng. Damn!

One morning at work

He picks up and flips through her desk calendar. Reed thin, long legged models stare back seductively at him.
“So you like models?”
Her sarcasm is evident.
He smiles. The calendar still in his hands.
“But they stay here
He quickly returns the calendar. Walks away embarrassed.
Idiot” she thinks.
“I like her” he thinks.

Lies XII – non fiction.

Just out of a meeting, she rushes back to check the next 55 fun story that must have been posted.

On her desk she stares at the long to-do list in her planner. Thinks of the post-lunch deadline.

Smirking, closes the planner, opens the word document and starts her response to lies XI – non fiction.

lies XI - non-fiction

He passes by her desk. She shuts the document she was typing in.

“You working on those lines, I hope.”

“Yea, I have options, I will share them with you post-lunch?”

“Yea, Lets finish it…” he mutters as he walks away.

She surreptitiously opens the word document, and continues to type another 55 fiction story.


She makes another one of her mother’s speciality recipes.

It smells good – so what if it’s taken over two hours of her time?

Table laid, she waits for him to walk in– any minute now.

He slams the door shut.
Walks into the bedroom saying, “I’m too tired to eat, im just gonna watch TV.”


She tries to breathe through the smoke. Another chicken burnt to the bones.

Damn, she should’ve learnt to cook from her mother.

She opens the window to let out the smoke - he’s going to be home any minute.

He smells the smoke, and smiles, “I’m too tired to eat, let’s just watch TV, ok?”

truth vs lies

“How long has it been?”

“How long has what been?”

“Since you got laid…”

“Three years…”

“What? We gotta find you some chicks, dude!”

“Err, yea, here’s the thing… I’m gay …”

“Gay? Really…”

“This won’t affect our friendship, right?”

“Huh? Dude… of course not…” he says, as he scratches the back of his neck.

Further Truth

“Stiffness? This is it.
You have no right to question my authenticity if you don’t stand up for love.”

“If that is the expectation then am sorry. Am a weak man. Please forgive me.”

For a while she was crestfallen.

In a jiffy she ran, held him from behind and said “I love you anyway.”

Thursday, March 8, 2007

Lies X

"Hello. its me. I wont be able to make it to work today. Feeling a little feverish, and will be sleeping all day. My phone might be switched off." Click. That was easy.

Then he straightens his tie, picks up the folder, checks his CV for the last time and steps out of his door.


The moonbeam touched her face through the glass. She woke up with a startle.
And then cuddled back in the sheet with a faint smile.
Wish you were here.
And I love you so.
But why?

You dream with me, you talk to me, you love without a burden.
You are just outside my world.

Lies IX

“Have you had jalebis on the morning walk?”
No. In fact, I completed 5 laps as the doctor said.

The grey shawl tore along the dried sugar syrup.
And I love you so.
I seek you with all my being and soul.
Of course, I can’t violate you. Only if you wish…


You said that am quite a woman and that you wish to see me eternally happy.
“What? Don’t you delete old messages?”
“No but don’t worry your wife’ll never see them.”
“It’s not about that.”
“I can’t get home for dinner tonight. I have a meeting.”

And then he held her hand and said “Honey!”

Lies VII

“Have you had the medicines?”
“Yes Maa.”

“Hope you are not smoking!”
“No way. I threw them last week.”

A ring of smoke touched her nose and vanished gradually in the air above. And a crumpled piece of smelly hospital paper topped the heap in the basket at her feet.

The night gradually gave way.

another love turns cold

"She is amazing!"
"I am happy for you, you know…"
"Hey you have to help me with the ring…"
"Yeah….I wanna surprise her on her birthday!"
"Thanks pal!"
He gives her a tight hug and walks to his car.
She sits at the café hoping it wouldn't hurt forever.

Nomad XIII

I remember it well.
"I hope you can jump."
"I have a trampoline, love."
Eventually my trampoline tore, but your wall stayed standing, mocking. Funny thing about homes, the way they stay the same, no matter how much you change. And how much you regret that careless cigarette stub. The one that burnt yours down.

Lies VI

“He watches over us all? Really?”

“Yeah. From up there. To see to it that nothing bad happens to good people.”

“But, how does he know who’s good?”

“He knows everything, honey.”

“So dad died cos he was bad?”

“Course not. There’s some great big plan, sweets. Somewhere. You won't understand it. Only He does.”

lies V

“So, how long has it been, man?”

“How long has what been?”

“Oh, come on, since you got laid, dude”

“Oh that... hah, like, three days ago, dude…”

“Really? Sweet! Who was she?”

“She...yea...she was this damn hot chick from this club...Great legs. Was all over me – couldn’t fight it man. Couldn’t fight it.”

Lies IV

“So, see, the thing is, I don’t really need anyone. Because I’m strong. My mother, she like totally needed men. It was her generation, y’know. I totally empathize. But for me. Nah! I don’t need anyone. Really. I’m independent. And poor things, most of my friends, they have someone. I’m single. The lucky one.”


Knit, X-rays, Brylcreem (RSC Series)

“ How do you pass time?”
“ I knit.”
She handed me the X-rays ruefully smiling.
He has been laid up for a while now.(Near fatal accident)
He had slipped.
Lately he just angered me. To the point of maddening rage.
He was gone now._But the Brylcreem stained pillowcases stayed on as an annoying remainder.

Cigarrette, Kamal Hasan, Baby (From RSC Series)

His breath had the smell of a forgotten ashtray and putrid monsoon. Lighting another cigarette, he continued to talk of becoming the next president of the Kamal Hassan fan club.
Only the promised thousand rupees at the end of the hour that kept the bile down.
“Come baby. Come. Come.” He said picking his teeth.

Manolos, Asparagus, Halwa (From RSC Series)

She was imagining herself with him. Doing the salsa. She even had ‘the dress’ to match her divine red Manolos.
She’ll show them, she resolved as she came back with her lunch. Grilled asparagus.Now if only she could stick to her diet. And not cave in.
“ Beta, some halwa? “, Ma called out!

Cocker Spaniel, Ilaiyaraaja, Sleep (From Ready Steady Charity Series)

She thought she heard something, but the dog never reacted.
There was that noise again; this time something was definitely wrong.
The cocker spaniel continued to sleep. She tried nudging it awake with her toes.
It was then, she noticed the masked intruder.
Funny, instead of her life flashing by, an Ilaiyaraaja tune sprung up!

lies III

They sit in a park, watching kids play.
She looks endearingly at him. He looks fascinated, at the children.

Without looking at her, he says, “I want to have a bunch of them, someday.”

Her hand wanders over the flat stomach she took years to attain.

Still looking at him she says, “Yeah. Me too.”

before the afterglow

They rented Before Sunrise.
He watches it in bed with her - his girlfriend of three years.

Jesse to Celine, “I know happy couples... but I think they lie to each other”

Movie ends. He waits for his girlfriend to fall asleep.

Gets his mobile phone and texts someone- ‘Wish you were here. Goodnight.’

Nomad XII

I was young. You were foolish. Years passing can make such a difference, no?
I look back now, at the me I was and the you you were. Even at the us that could have been. We’re both better off, my dear.
You see, I’ve never known what I wanted. I like it that way.

lies II

“She's a wonderful person. Hardworking, intelligent…"- I said to him – "She is one of those people who's really dedicated to what she's doing. She's good that way, I think."

His eyes continued to watch her as she walked down the corridor - "Yeah, she's got great breasts too…"

"Really?" I said questioningly, "I hadn't noticed."

Love in an Elevator

“You are really l a t e ?”
“Your office is really far”
“You should have started earlier!”
“I did! But you know the traffic here….”
“Tell that to my BOSS!”
“ Did you get your BP checked today?”
“Huuuh? I hate you!”
She begins to speak. He bends over and kisses her lips.

Living in your afterglow

Star Movies. Dominick and Eugene.
Mid movie, he turns and says. " We are like that na?"
"Yeah.." she says distractedly.
We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl…...” he sings softly.
“Oh…not again” she rolls her eyes.
Years later she watches the movie again. Alone. “…wish you were here…” she sings off key.

Liberation 2

Walking into his room, the first thing he noticed was the cigarette. Stubbed exactly in the middle of the square ashtray. The familiar smear of maroon lipstick. He could still smell the now dissolved smoke rings.
With a wry smile he thought of the letters now lying under her door.
Exactly eighty nine steps away.

lies- I

So what if we are colleagues?
It’s not that bad, really.

So what if we’ve had a past, but don’t have a future?
It’s not that bad, really.

So, we’ve made love? So what if you don’t look at me anymore.

So what, if whenever you walk by, I crumble?

It’s not that bad. Really.

Maybe 2

Everyday I would pretend to be annoyed when she asked me her pet question.
I loved the way she stroked me while asking the question.
Everyday I annoyed her by saying “No”
Then one day I replied “Maybe”
She never asked the question after that. I still wait.
Wonder if I said the wrong thing!


Nomads III is now up from Someone Arbit's site. Apologies for moving it back, but I just wanted it to be in order.. blame it on my ocd-ness...
Now, shoo! Go read it, it's lovely. :)

Into The Shining Sun

The moon glared down. He crumpled beneath.

The night was inside him; the cold slowly numbing his pain. Get up.

He looked up. The moon hid; stars shone light. Strength. Jaws firmed, he got up, suitcase in hand. And didn't stumble once as he walked away from her door. Inside, they continued to kiss, unaware.

Everyday III

They watched him nervously clutching his cup, stealing glances at her. Seemingly oblivious to his attention, she puffed away elegantly. Then as he walked towards her she stiffened but relaxed as he walked past. A look of disappointment flickered on her face for an instance.

“ Damn! The coward!”
They exchanged the dollar. Everyday.


I used to sit next to him while he worked. He seemed to like that.

Perhaps I inspired him.

I would annoy him with the same question over and over again, to which he would reply ‘no’ every single time– “Sammy, If I die, will you cry?”

One day, he looked over and said – "Maybe."

reality bite

Out of concern she asked, “What’s up? How’s it going?”

Without looking up I muttered, “Life sucks. And then you die.”

Fork in hand, she looked straight at me and sighed, “And what’s more… we live in a third world country.”

I looked at her in shocked silence. She masticated nonchalantly on her noodles.


Nomad: XI

You were always exactly what I wanted. So I let you do what you needed to. Hoping, somehow, it would lead back to me. I guess I knew, subconsciously, that it was hopeless. After all how could I be what you wanted when you didn't know yourself what you did? Want, that is.

Wednesday, March 7, 2007

She to her

Part 1
"Is everything alright?"
"Oh love the pearls Ryan got me this time."
“Diya, what is it? You are fretting.”
“Well am going to the hospital, there is something wobbly in my uterus. You know, you can never be woman enough till you are a mother.”

She pulled her close and kissed her in the mouth.

Part 2

They looked into each other’s eyes and she touched her pale cheeks getting back their colour and pushed a stray lock behind her ears. She remained in her arms for a long, long time.

“Gotta go”
“Should I drive you?”
“No I’ll manage.”

After a pause,
“The baby!”
And she hid her face in her breast.

[Woman to woman fiction on Women's Day]

Nomad X

How many years was it? Ten? I imagine you. And the girl you always wanted. The one I could never be. The one I knew you'd find. I'm in the pages of a second class romance. Trying and failing to die of a broken heart. One thing you should know.

I was always your home.

Nomad IX

Unconditional love just isn't all it's cracked up to be, eh?
Ten years and I still think of you sometimes. I wonder if you found someone who played your insecurities enough to make you stay. You left me homeless and wandering, but she took me in. Fixed the wing-menders' wings.

She became my home.

Nomad VIII

And then I think, "But I really love him. He's my wing-mender, my fall-breaker. I can always go back to him. Cos I know he'll be there forever, patiently." I've made you wait. I don't want you to wait anymore. You can't be home to me.

Because you'll always be home to me.

Nomad VII

There is no place in my eyes or my heart for sympathy. The love simply washes everything else away. I'm talented. I can mend wings and catch falls. I can wait. I see the tousled hair, the smeared kajal, the twinkling diamonds. You have never looked more beautiful.

I will always be home to you.

Nomad VI

You think you know me. It's in your eyes. Something like sympathy. I'm standing on the cliff's edge. The wind in my hair. Eyes wet. Knees weak. Filled with possibility. I could fly. I could fall. I'll come back because I want to. Not because I have to.

Will you still be home to me?

Nomad V

You're scared. I know. Strangely, I understand. I remember the feeling. Standing at the cliff's edge, staring life in the face. Life stares back, unblinking and unapologetic. Scarred by yesterday, terrified of tomorrow, today was all I could give. I was there. But I came home. To you.

I can still be home to you.

Nomad: IV

I watch you watch me. I want to belong. But everytime you take that one step closer, something inside me tenses. Frightened, like a deer in the headlights. I watch you watch me watch you. Do you know the truth? I am terrified. I watch me lose you.

You could have been home to me.

Update: Just realised that's the big 55 :)


Wiseling’s Fifty Five Fun fiction appealed to me. A super idea.

This is my first attempt at Fifty Five Fun.

Nomad and Nomad 2 gave rise to Nomads.

We laugh. We talk. We play. We share. But we are afraid to allow ourselves to really care. History taught us lessons we should not have learned. And so we never fight.
Being with each other could have always felt like being on an exciting vacation - but could have never felt like being home.


She clutched his hand, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Don't leave me. Please."

He weakly reached up and brushed a tear away from her face.
"Don't cry, love. It'll be over soon. You'll be okay."

"How can you say that?" she choked out.
"I would have died for you."

"Yes, I know. But can you live for me?"


Dizzy from twirling around in the sparkling diamond dust, she unceremoniously flopped down onto an inviting snow cushion. She giggled as a snowflake made its way to the tip of her nose. Licking it off with an artful flick of her tongue, she smiled wistfully.

"Tonight would be a perfect night to fall in love."


Staring blankly at the dripping fifty rupee note, she turned it over in her hand. Dinner for three nights. Crocin for Babbla who was sick. New pencil box for Chikki. Maybe some Mogras and a toothy smile. She looked down at her calloused hands, straightened her back and got up from the bathroom floor.


Update: Go here for another version.

Flawed Perfection

"They're too different! They'll never last... She's such a.... ugh!"
"They fight all the time! Talk about the antithesis of a perfect relationship!"

He kissed her nose. She giggled.
"I'm sorry about.... you know."
"Shh! It's okay. We're okay. Always."
"I love you, you know. No matter what."
"And I you."

Scotch-tape can do wonders sometimes.

Push Me Over and Epiphany

She stood at his doorstep, a million conflicting thoughts running through her mind.
[He screamed. She cried. He walked out. She cried. Even the fresh bruises after his every visit didn't stop her from taking him back. Every single time. ]
As she glanced down at his doormat, she realized that she was looking at herself.

As she glanced down at his doormat, she realized that she was looking at herself. He stood in the doorway, staring in confusion. She was giggling to herself. [She hadn't smiled in two years. He had made sure of it.] She kissed him on the cheek, spun around and walked away.
"Thanks, it's been fun."

First Day Jitters

She stared back at the nine year old in the unforgiving steel of the prison-like elevator. Carefully patting her freshly oiled braid, she adjusted the fragrant string of mogras. Her fingers trembled as she reached to ring the doorbell and she nervously smoothed her pallu while she waited.


"Mummy, new bai has come."

Impeccable Flaw

They were so perfect together that it made her smile. She was happy for them. In her own bitter-sweet oh-you-lucky-bitch kind of way, but happy, nonetheless. That's why it bothered her, when on closer inspection, she saw cracks. And careless smears of dried super-glue and old scotch tape holding them together.

Sometimes: caught in the net?

So this is my take on finding a happy medium to n's two part post. Which, by the way, you should check out. It's awesome.

Sometimes, her smiles are more than just to obscure her anguish. Sometimes, she knows that her tears are nothing to be ashamed of. They may not be a sign of weakness, or even strength. Standing in the shower, saltly rivulets flowing down her face, she revels in the feeling of simply being. She is alive.

“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love.” - Washington Ivring.

It was a baby pink shirt with yellow polka dots and she loved it. But not as much as she love(d) him.

"Don't cry didi... Remember that time bai burned your favorite shirt? You were so upset you didn't talk to anyone for two whole weeks! Then bhaiyaa bought you the pink top from Express and you were so happy."

She couldn't help smiling wistfully at the trusting naïveté.

"Belongings are easily replaced, choti. People are not."


She: I'm so glad we talked about it then.... I'm over you, there's no awkwardness and you're my best friend!
He: I wasn't your best friend before? pout
She: Yes, but in a "He's my best friend and I can tell him anything except that I'm absolutely crazy about him" kind of way.
He: Idiot!

[Inspired by this post by Ideasmith.... Yes, he does exist and I love him to death. :)]

Tuesday, March 6, 2007

In Anticipation [of spring break]

Adjusting the pink and yellow polka-dotted bikini, she fished around in the matching bag for her sunglasses. Laying back on the blanket, she reveled in the warmth of the sun. Her hair was lightly tousled, flirting with the languid breeze.

An anonymous stranger in a sea of beautiful people, she was alone, and happy.


[Does my title have to make sense? I certainly don't think so. If you disagree, phooey to you!]

"I love you with my heart and soul!"

She smiled indulgently.
"I love you with my whole heart."

"Only your heart?"
he asked, pouting.

"Yeah.. I don't have a soul."

"What d'ya mean?"

"I sold it."

He gaped at her.
"Whatever for!?"

"A candy bar."


"In my defense, it was a really good candy bar."


Fraternity house no.9.
Second floor. Third room on the left.
[Exactly eighty-nine steps.]
She quietly surveyed the room, eyes flickering briefly, almost imperceptably, as they passed over a laughing couple in the corner.
Watching the perfectly formed smoke rings dissolve into nothingness, she smiled wryly.
Stubbing her cigarette in his ashtray, she left.

Nomad 2

And I try to clutch onto the little moments. There are hardly any! I scamper to be near you. Unwittingly, I bare it all in open spaces.
And then I go back to my little shell, hurt, broken, waiting for a priceless dimple and a fleeting twinkle.

Yes, you could have been home to me.


Your rhythmic breaths slowly lull me into a false sense of security. I know you wont stay, but I won't tell myself, cause that would disappoint me. You wander. I wonder. What are you searching for now? No name in your heart, no place to call your own.

I could have been home to you.

The Rose Garden

Shubh Mahuurat hai bhabi” declared Panditji

The plum banarasi and Nani’s jadoa were laid out. The haldi, chandan and kumkum for the tilak.
Did someone call the shehnaiwalla? The jalebis were piping hot.
She was blushing to see her man.

He never came for her. Ten years ago.
The therapist poured a glass of water.

Everyday II

Window shades twitched close. The signal for her to go home. She languidly uncrossed her legs, gracefully interred the cigarette. Her curtain call. It was pathetic but she had nobody else. A stranger who watched her everyday her only tie to existence. Reason for the solitary lipstick marooned on her dresser. Loneliness has no mercy


She caught a snowflake on her tongue. You smiled wistfully. She had never looked so delicate, so vulnerable. Her fragility was the kind that made you fear that a gust of wind would come along and she would shatter into pieces that would forever be lost. Ephemeral. Like that snowflake on your eyelash.

Don't blink.

They lost him...

Part 1

In the din at the store, they lost him. She thought of calling but…

And then suddenly, “Are you looking for me?”
She quickly complained “Yes we were, but you were having your own experience and left us behind!”
Was met with a priceless sparkler and a fleeting twinkle.

They held her fixated for eternity.

Part 2

In the din at the store, they lost him. She patted his head one moment and he was gone the next.

Through the maze, her heart ran faster than she did.
A glimpse of his tee stuck on the escalator rail. And she collapsed.

Till from behind a huge grey fridge, a shirtless wonder, “Momma”

Part 3

In the din at the store, they lost him.

She screamed “Tibu!” Not a whimper.
She scaled the foods rack and the aquariums but of no avail.

And then ran to the water front where he was having a ball chasing the pigeons in a flutter. His golden brown coat glistening in the mid-day sun.

Part 4

In the din at the store, they lost him.

The huge screens and the sleek ware no longer pulled her. Her eyes searching for an elusive yellow shirt.
“Did he leave alone?”
“Does he not want me?”
“Oh yeah, am not pretty, not good enough!”

He was but lost in the world of X-box games.

Part 5

In the din at the store, they lost him.

Soon enough
“Where have you been? We were looking for you.”
“Duh. You guys don’t like music not my fault. I was waiting to get bedazzled, by the music myself. Didn’t happen.”

Not a reason, she was just looking for him.
And she loves music too.


The innocence of her gentle smile was a sharp contrast to the intensity of his blood-shot eyes.
He gazed at her silent form, almost in a trance.
Like sleeping beauty... he mused.
Bending down to kiss her, to revive her,
he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"It's time to light the pyre papa..."

Benson Lights

She took a long drag of her cigarette and regarded the diamonds cascading from the sombre darkness.
They twinkled at her. She showed no emotion.
Inhale deeply, exhale slowly.
The tainted smoke dissolved into the night.
Sweet oblivion.
She flicked the butt into the immaculate ivory snow, stealing it's virginity.
No longer alone, she smiled.

Monday, March 5, 2007

He Said...

Walking as she did with the sway of her hips
She weaves a web with blink of her eyes
The unsuspecting male, hardly knows of the perils to come
A manipulative glint, a tigresses’ scorn
Watching from the vantage point afar, smiling a smile unseen
Then caught unaware by the revelation: it started with me.


Never having known his biological mother, he yearned to hear her voice. Anticipated the reunion for years. But never like this. Devastating phone call that said she passed away.

Heavy hearted she put the phone down and began to walk away. Someday he’ll understand.

Adopted or not, he was her son to her. Her own.

On The Wall

Popping a mint, I reluctantly stood, straightening my ‘Counselor’ badge. The trip to salvation had begun, especially, since the house of cards I built was collapsing under the lies I layered on. Facing the imminent truth is far worse than eminent addiction. But that comes later!

“I am Ria and am an alcoholic.”
“Hi Ria!”

Every day: I [Chain 55]

This is a Chain 55. Feel free to add to it.

She came here. Every day.
Elegance and perfection.
Always the same red chair, always the same black coffee.
Two cubes of sugar, a dash of cream, no milk please.
She crossed her legs, just so, an impeccably composed image.
Three sips till she sparked the cigarette and languidly puffed away.

He watched her. Every day.

Chain 55s and other fun stuff...

So.... umm, chain 55 time?
I'm posting one right now... feel free to add your own spin..
I don't know if you guys want to do this as updating on the same post or writing a new post.. but whatever strikes your fancy! :)

Perspectives III: Personal Universes

Today, Lai was all grown up. He was a man. His dada had let him fill the ketchup bottles for the first time. In all his eight years he had never felt so important. He would go home today and tell his didi. ‘I’m a man’, he’d say. ‘I can now take care of you.

Note: An apology is due cos this isn't technically a stand-alone. The story makes sense only in conjunction with Vi's. But I couldn't resist the tempation. Pliss to forgive.

The Looking Glass

The cherry red stained her lips in one precise, fluid curve.
Her eyes, highlighed in a swirl of burgundy.
Cheekbones smeared with ripe plums, iridescent over sepia skin.
Auspicious Colors.
Flawless. Immaculate. Composed.
She contemplated her mirror image, facinated at the ease with which she concealed the scars.
"Baraat Aa Gayi Hai..."
Outside. And inside.

note: "Baraat Aa Gayi Hai..." loosely translates to "The groom and his family are here..."

Lost and Found: A Two Part 55

Poking at her Greek salad (ironically enough, with an Asian dressing,) she looked around the table at the people she liked to call friends.
Big bites, small giggles.
She laughed because they did.
"What was that again?"
It's almost like I'm an afterthought....
And in that moment, she realized, she had never felt more alone.


Poking at her Greek salad (this time with a lemon dressing,) she looked around the table at the people who called her a friend. Good friend. Best friend.
Big bites. Shared giggles.
"Hey, don't steal my olive!"
"But I like olives too, and you have two."
And in that moment, she realized, she felt loved.

Worth: The quality that renders something desirable, useful, or valuable.

She stretched and languorously reached out for the slim leather case.
"How long?" she asked, as she lit the offending cigarette.
He looked at her with contempt,
"It's seven in the morning. Must you?"
She gave him a searching look.
"Yes. The worst part of being lied to is knowing you weren't worth the truth."


She lay on her bed staring at the celing, her empty wine glass the only witness to the slip of the mask, the smudged kohl. She nibbled on a perfectly manicured nail and sighed.

"Everyone has at least five dreams every night. That's thirty-billion dreams. One of them has got to be about me."

Coming Home

Her back ached. Looking up at the roving sky, she took off her sweater and welcomed the August breeze, mind wandering. The walk was less than two miles, but the small hill ahead suddenly loomed like a mountain. She thought of the loneliness and work waiting for her at home, and her heart ached as well.

(In)visibility of Nobodyhood

She watched Lai refill ketchup bottles at the food court, expertly shaking, capping, pouring. The empty ones were tossed into the cart. It was a thankless job that goes unnoticed and often unappreciated. She was certainly guilty. And at moments like this, she often believed that sincerity was the cheapest of virtues.

Time, Perhaps?

They looked around the park for the hundredth time, occasionally commenting on the squalling ducks and the oddity of the extraordinary balmy weather in January. They should have seen a movie. It would have saved them from this pretense of a conversation. They should at least look at each other, before they run out of—

Perspectives: II

She stares blankly at the dripping fifty rupee note. She hears appa's voice, "We might be poor but noone can call us thieves". Chikki doesn't have pencils for school. Babbla's so sick he can't stand. Her heart breaking inconsequentially, she tucks the note into her blouse. Honour is perfectly fine, when you can afford it.

Perspectives: I

Overheard: words from half a conversation, past nudging the present. I look up. She smiles. Words ensue. Inevitably, the question pops out. "Are you from Madras?" Her face lights up. "You too?" disbelievingly. "Yeah" I confess. "Do you stay with your parents?". "No, they live back home. In India. I live alone". Observed: Heartfelt sympathy.

Espied: a stranger's startled upward glance. A smile offered. A conversation sparked. The question "Are you from Madras?", unexpected. To travel half the world and hear this on my first bus trip. Startled into commitment, "I shifted here as soon as I got married. With my husband." Her steady gaze met fleetingly. Recognised: Heartfelt sympathy.


They sat in the big laundry hamper, eyes round, waiting for her next word. "And then, Bai?" they asked. She savoured the moment. The smell of fresh cotton enveloped them. She folded a shirt, Ralph Lauren. An alphabet-string. She looked up at the shining faces. She wanted to cry. They would pay with attention.

My 55 Intro

Since we're all doing one. I think it's a bril idea (Wiseling's of course) and following the (exemplary?) lead of Wiseling and Persp, Inc I'm going to upload my older ones up here before launching into fresh ones. I adore the idea of having constructive criticism heaped on me (cos I can foresee that it will be heaped :D), especially by such experienced proponents of the art (of writing 55s that is, not heaping criticism!). So, I propose a toast (what's the point in starting something new unless we drink to it?) to The Sisterhood of the 55s (since there are no males here yet, I think?). Bottoms up :)


You said you would break it off soon. I feel so guilty. And you only delay.

I refuse to be the ‘other woman’.

Part circumstance. Part consequence. Irrelevant.

Filled with strange trepidation I turned the key. Like premonition ignored, I walked in on you both.

It should not hurt, but it does. I miss you.


Flowers came today. With a note that said, “I love you mom! Happy Birthday”.
I didn’t know if I should laugh or just cry.
She was like that. Organized. Scheduled everything in advance. Never missed a birthday or anniversary.
But to get these flowers today, was just cruel.
Two months after her death, just heartbreaking.

First Day, First Show

Saying she was excited, she snuggled a bit closer. I could feel her heart beat real fast as I reached for her hand. As the lights dimmed, she watched her idol come alive with glee!

And I began to wonder if the gleaming whites and speeding heart had anything to do with me at all!

Aah The 55s!

55 Fiction could quite possibly be my favorite genre and am looking forward to playing with some in this space.
Like Wiseling, am first going to start by posting what has already been up at my blog and then take it from there...

I know am going to have fun.
Hope you do too.

(And a quick shout out to Wiseling: Thanks for inviting me here!)


Do you, he asked. She replied noncommittally. Perhaps. Maybe. Another day. We shall see. No promises.

They skirted around the issue again.

Will you, he asked. Perhaps. Maybe. We shall see. Tomorrow’s tomorrow.

Can you, he asked.

Foolish girl. She did not reply.

She sighed. I will not ask again, he said.

Yes, she thought.


His eyes were black. His hair was black. His coat was black. His shoes were black. Deep inside of him, where in you and me we fancy a soul, there was black. A deep abysmal blackness. The kind of blackness that threatens to consume you. Fear not the falling. Fear, instead, the desire to fall.

Life.. or something like it.

The screen was blank. The flashing cursor mocked her. She took a long drag of her cigarette, ignoring the ash that fell between the R and T keys. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment, before her hand fell back and she slumped down in defeat.
"My life is a 55 fiction story."


Her lips were stained blood red.
The wine was expensive. She had saved it for a special occasion.
"Cukoo. Cukoo."
The glass slipped and shattered. It was 2 am.
As she glanced around the room, she giggled. Nervously. Needlessly.
"I'll wash it when I clean the blood," she thought,
as she reached for another glass...

Sunday, March 4, 2007

Hanging On and Letting Go: A Two Part 55

She turned fourteen. He kissed her. She blushed and stammered. They fought. She cried. He walked away. (He always came back.) He sang to her. She wrote him poems. He said he loved her hair. She swore to never cut it. She said ''I love you." He said "Me too." He cheated. She didn’t know.

He cheated. Multiple times. His sister told her. They broke up. She got a haircut. She refused to eat. She sat in the bathroom staring at a blade for hours. She was never strong enough to use it. Three days later, she ate. Three weeks later, she smiled. And just like that, she grew up.

He Kissed Her: VI

"What's the difference?"
"Between you and her?"
"It's a difficult question to answer."
"I know."
"Essentially, sex, I suppose."
"So the difference is that she's easy and I'm not? You know it was always all or nothing with me."
"Yeah, I know."
"So you chose her."
"Don't leave."
He kissed her.
She turned away.

He Kissed Her: V

"You’re with her now."
“We’re not dating. You know I don’t want a relationship.”
“I’m leaving.”
“Why? Stay.”
“Why? You always disappoint me.”
“You’ll go home with her.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Then come home with me.”
“I can’t.”
“It’s always the same.”
She turned to leave.
He spun her around and kissed her.

He Kissed Her: IV

“What’s the point? We always end up where we started.”
“Please leave. She’s waiting for you.”
“That’s not it.”
“You know it is.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“You won’t.”
“I will.”
He wiped away the solitary tear,
brushed the hair out of her eye,
and ever so softly, he kissed her.
And then, he left.

He Kissed Her: III

Relying on confidence secured from one to many drinks of 'happy,' she balanced on her toes and pressed her lips against his.
He gently pushed her away. "What do you want from me?"
She contemplated him, gnawing on her bottom lip.
"I don't know. Does it matter?"
"Not right now, I suppose."
He kissed her.

He Kissed Her: II

"Can I kiss you?" she asked demurely and with much hesitation.
"Can I refuse?" he answered with an indulgent smile.
"It was a question, not a statement." she said indignantly.
He ran a finger down her cheek. "I know." She shivered.
"It wasn't easy."
"I know."
"Where are we going with... this?"
He kissed her.

He Kissed Her: I

She watched him from across the room. Ignoring the emotional battle waging inside her head, she slowly approached him. She tapped his shoulder. He turned.
"How have you been?" he asked easily.
"Shut up and kiss me."
"Don't. My self-respect might hear you, and then I would have to leave."
He kissed her.

Fifty Five Fiction

Just a space for everyone to put down their 55fics and talk about them.. Constructive criticism is always appreciated. If you want to post here, just send me your email address and I'll send you an invite. If you've never written one before, give it a shot! Who knows what you'll end up with... :)

So, I'm going to start reposting what's already on my website, and then move on from there....

Happy posting!

Love always,
~wiseling. :)

Oh, and here are the rules, if you need them. :)