To just collapse and go with the wind
My moment will come when i push out the life inside me
A life for a life
AMEN
Sunday, June 15, 2014
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
Monday mourning
It turned out to be a day of death and dying.
There was the office guy she couldn't care less about
But his mug in the obit shocked her.
Then there was the friend's mother
Whose passing away seemed a cruel joke.
And last, a father, on TV
Just an act, thank heavens.
It eludes you, when you pray for it
Starve yourself, court danger.
But when you seize the day
Live life to the hilt, happy
Death creeps up on you
Like a cold breath at the back of your neck.
There was the office guy she couldn't care less about
But his mug in the obit shocked her.
Then there was the friend's mother
Whose passing away seemed a cruel joke.
And last, a father, on TV
Just an act, thank heavens.
It eludes you, when you pray for it
Starve yourself, court danger.
But when you seize the day
Live life to the hilt, happy
Death creeps up on you
Like a cold breath at the back of your neck.
Saturday, April 5, 2014
On the rocks
He continued to devour her with an appetite that seemed unsatiated, after all these years.
To her, at best, it was unconscious coupling.
Friday, February 14, 2014
Love. Humbug!
Strange love this is, my love
Your love strangulates me. Intoxicates
I'm pained to the point of bleeding
Numbed to the point of dying
Yet, there appears no relief, no love
How much longer will we go on?
How much longer should we prolong?
Strange love this is, my love
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Behold
The eyes know. They have seen them all. They have said it all.
They have a mind of their own. They are worse than the heart.
Culprits, they don't let you hide, they tell no lies.
You are defeated, betrayed, by your eyes.
They have a mind of their own. They are worse than the heart.
Culprits, they don't let you hide, they tell no lies.
You are defeated, betrayed, by your eyes.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Yet another day!
For Zaara who always kissed her mom and dad goodnight,
For Yamini who shared her father's bed so he wouldn't go near her paralysed mother,
For Xena who led her daughter down the aisle,
For Wahida who uses the weighing scale as a footstool in her loo,
For Vanitha who bit into her shoulder when the cop marauded her body, so her man could flee,
For Urmila who got through school and college cleaning floors,
For Thangam who hopes for a baby girl so she can finally have a doll,
For Sunaina who writes 'erotic literature' for her girlfriends,
For Rose who likes a good butt on a man,
For Qismat who thinks pink colour sucks,
For Palak who has a crush on her brother's girlfriend,
For Ofelia who runs into her mother's arms after school every evening,
For Nisha who longs for yet another glimpse of her neighbour's hot son,
For Meena who does not miss karate even during her periods,
For Lekha who wakes up every morning with heavy make-up on so her little ones don't notice the fingerprints on her face,
For Kanchan who likes to roughhouse with her girls,
For Jessy who took her uncle to court for molesting her,
For Indu who carries pepper spray in her hand-bag,
For Harshita who likes roti with manchurian gravy,
For Gayatri who is the life of every party,
For Fathima who went as her twin to the driving test,
For Eva who loves to do it on the dining table,
For Donna who hopes the boyfriend will remember the anniversary this year,
For Chanda who eats from her husband's plate,
For Bani who is yet to be kissed
And for Arunima who refuses to give up even as her mind and body desert her.
For all the women we are...
ON WOMEN'S DAY
For Yamini who shared her father's bed so he wouldn't go near her paralysed mother,
For Xena who led her daughter down the aisle,
For Wahida who uses the weighing scale as a footstool in her loo,
For Vanitha who bit into her shoulder when the cop marauded her body, so her man could flee,
For Urmila who got through school and college cleaning floors,
For Thangam who hopes for a baby girl so she can finally have a doll,
For Sunaina who writes 'erotic literature' for her girlfriends,
For Rose who likes a good butt on a man,
For Qismat who thinks pink colour sucks,
For Palak who has a crush on her brother's girlfriend,
For Ofelia who runs into her mother's arms after school every evening,
For Nisha who longs for yet another glimpse of her neighbour's hot son,
For Meena who does not miss karate even during her periods,
For Lekha who wakes up every morning with heavy make-up on so her little ones don't notice the fingerprints on her face,
For Kanchan who likes to roughhouse with her girls,
For Jessy who took her uncle to court for molesting her,
For Indu who carries pepper spray in her hand-bag,
For Harshita who likes roti with manchurian gravy,
For Gayatri who is the life of every party,
For Fathima who went as her twin to the driving test,
For Eva who loves to do it on the dining table,
For Donna who hopes the boyfriend will remember the anniversary this year,
For Chanda who eats from her husband's plate,
For Bani who is yet to be kissed
And for Arunima who refuses to give up even as her mind and body desert her.
For all the women we are...
ON WOMEN'S DAY
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Scent of a (child) woman
She leaned against him, her tiny frame cuddled in his youthful masculinity. He ran his rough fingers gently up and down her silken arms coaxing her to sleep. She keenly followed his every word as he spun yarns to keep her by his side. She broke into tiny bursts of laughter as his fingertips fondled the smooth inners of her warm armpits. She playfully pushed his strong hands away. They returned, this time resting on her naked thigh. He bided his time, stroking her slender girlish legs. She was in a tizzy. His stories amused her, but his roving hands titillated her no end. Even as she glided between sleep and wakefulness, little ants slowly inched their way up the soft insides of her thighs. She shuddered. His fingers gently stroked the cotton covering her soft mound. She pulled up her legs in protest. He quietly retreated and began anew another tale. She smiled. With every word, his hands firmly closed the distance between his desire and her innocence. She held back, not wanting the story to end. His fingers found home. Deftly, he slided his big hand under the thick band of her knickers. She sucked in. He slowly lowered his palm over her warmth. He touched, stroked, probed her. Not satisfied, he tried to finger his way in. She winced and shoved his hands aside with all the might her 7-year-old body could summon. She looked at him, her eyes filled with annoyance. He smiled at her and sniffed his fingers.
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