For watching over me as the poet in me changed-

From deciding the subject of my next one
A week in advance,
And spending the next few days,
Creating the mood, the right ambience

To having words ready
At the tip of my fingers
To my life revolving around writing,
And not the reverse

From choosing the correct length
The right vocabulary, rushing through
A dictionary for just that word I needed

To being effortlessly able
To aimlessly babble
And in the end, smiling at how poetic
Were the verses I'd created

From wondering who would ever read me?

To feeling a warm, fuzzy glow,
Seeing the lit up yellow lightning
Giving the happy news that my ideas
Someone, somewhere, was absorbing

From having that secret desire of
The Dream Guy stumbling upon this page
Reading me in and out, and
Falling in love with my words before
He began to love me...

To... Oh! Who am I kidding
I still have faith in that fantasy!

To a million more poems,
To many more hearts to enthrall,
Cheers to poetry,
Cheers to y'all!

I don't know why I
Have this constant itch to express myself
When actually I'm unaware of
What exactly it is that
I want to *say

So this very extraordinary poet
Said that my words were very "warm, and wise"
Oh I did a celebratory dance only
Before I sadly realised

That I was the girl who had once screeched
"I hate youuuuu" at a friend in the middle of a busy street!
Ah well, guess I'm that kind of poet who
Reserves all her wisdom for Hello Poetry

This is for the dear teacher
Who was once training me
For a programme where I was
Going to recite some beautiful poetry

To a girl all of fourteen,
Fresh, energetic, and naive
She gave a piece of advice and inadvertently,
Changed the course of her life

Yes, life!  
Here's roughly what she said-

Ghazal, you do NOT have to
Pause at the end of each line!
Because sometimes in poems
The sentence may continue
Beyond, so let the words flow
Like a Conversation,
And you'll notice how much better
Will sound your recitation

Something absolutely plain, yet
So meaningful, that today I wonder,
If she hadn't told me this simple secret
When would I, by myself, discover
That my words were allowed to spillover
Into the next line!
I can only look back in amazement
To thank her, and thank her some more
For saving all of that precious, poetic time

It's just awkward when people ask me what I write about

More so when they're still
Expectantly, quizzingly blinking
After I've already answered them with,
"Anything and everything!"

I think what he felt was beyond love,
For, after braving multiple imprisonments in hell
That she shamelessly put him through,
All he said to her was "I wish you well"

So what could be worse than
Lying on a hard, rickety bed
Squashed between wall and mother
With sweat travelling down your forehead?

And counting the blades of the fan
At its maximum speed, lazily tumbling,
Planning your mighty escape, because
Surely the termites were going to bring down that ceiling?

Spotting a lizard - expertly camouflaged - staring down at you from its abode - right at you - probably thinking to itself - "Oh cool, she'll catch me if I fall"

Yes, that's what's worse.

Return she will
As the evening draws nigh
For now, Mama Bird,
Let her fly

Ours wasn't the romantic saga
We had imagined it would be
But no less than a fairytale it was
In its length, short and sweet.
Few pages, yet composed with the
Most melodious words, moistened with
The most crystal tears,
A whirlwind- intense, abrupt, yet unbelievably soft
Our very own novella
That we wrote with our fingers intertwined
And illustrated some pages
With the color of our kisses
Remember you asked me why I left that last page blank?
I did it for this moment my dear,
Meeting you after all these years
You say you're planning to leave your hair un-dyed
From now, it'll be glistening white
I wouldn't do the same, I'm still coping
With these crow feet near my eyes!

You have a different world
As I have mine,
I didn't leap into your arms and shower you with love
Like, almost, was the norm in our time,
No playful nudges, no giggling, no madness

Just a strange, settled, calm kind of tenderness.

The tenderness, that, untouched by time,
Dutifully stayed
As a silent, poignant reminder that
The love never did,
And never will fade.

That sight of the scars
Painting her young wrists
Shook me with with disbelief
Yet overtook me with jealousy

I'd never be able to express pain
Like she did in her poetry

The crispest of papers
The finest of inks would falter
In front of that beautiful, mangled mess
Her smudged, blood-tinged words would author

I never
heard you
    *Sing

Seeing you so persistently vying
For that one perfect selfie
While I ruined the picture everytime,
Conveniently, secretly enjoying
That feeling of your pudgy cheeks
Pressed into mine!

It's when you understand that-

                    Everyone has a battle to fight
                    Everyone has a demon to ****,
                    A regret they pray disappeared,
                    An unanswered "what if?..."
                    A larger than life aspiration
                    An urge for a simpler life
                    (both at the same time),
                    Everyone sees in themselves
                    A flaw they spend all their might to hide,
                    Everyone has an ache untreated,
                    Insecurities kept discreetly in a shell.
                    Everyone has a Story to tell-

Do you begin to realise that
Probably all of humanity
Is just the many versions of
One inifinitely re-written story.

How
many
people
Am I?!

Broken shards of a broken heart-
Each piece composes a different line,
Then from the crevices bleeds out your poetry.
And then you ask me why it doesn't rhyme.

:)

Numbness I await
While your words reverberate
Through and through my soul.

This morning when I woke up
I realised something really sad
Don't ask what it is
That doesnt matter,
Basically I did something
But I didn't do it right
There wasn't much to lose
But that's not the point
For here I had a chance
And I casually gave it away,
And three months later suddenly
In my bed as I lay,
I awakened to the reality of how
Downright stupid I was.
Lying in bed for the past two hours now
Desperately counseling, consoling myself,
Looking for some closure,
Now trying to find a remedy on this page
Hoping as the words are vented out
Comfort will slowly get space to seep in,
And I'll be able to start with this already delayed day,
Because right now I just want to forever sleep in.

It kills-
Knowing I'm the pain
flickering inside
your eyes.

Sometimes what I write
Is less poetry, more rant,
While sometimes, this girl
Plans beforehand.
Yes, I like to play God sometimes,
And before I actually sit down to create,
I twiddle my thumbs, think a little
And decide my dear poem's fate.
Ah when I know exactly the very last line,
Those poems are the best kind!
I may wander, get lost on the way,
But the finale is crystal in my mind.
So today I wondered if
I already knew-
Just like I know this poem's conclusion,
That the ****** of my life was going to be you,
How easily would I spin my entire life,
All my dreams, my nights and days
Around the beautiful knowledge
That you were just some wait away.

                                             *

Though now that I'm pouring
My thoughts into creation,
I realise the end that I'd foreseen
Doesn't really meet my expectations!
I'll have to let the words take over now
Perhaps, like I'd let destiny
Govern us too,
I'll let the end pave its way through,
Just like my life stumbled into you.

Because some poems, and love stories
Aren't made with pre-thought choices.
Some poems, and love stories
Are best served with sweet unknown surprises.

I wondered
What was that sudden empty feeling,
When I turned to realise that
Oh! You went away already, leaving
your absence to stare at me
Through the diamonds of our wedding ring.

Exam time,
Stupid exam time
Think you're so formidable, do you?
Well I'm about to erase that
Leer off of that ugly face,
I'm going to grab you with
These hands covered in
Tired ink stains,
And mercilessly squeeze you
And extracting a handful words out,
I'll create a Poem out of you.
Oh, how much you'd hate that, right?
But yeah, that's what I'm going to do.

With guilt writ all over your face,
Twiddling your fingers just like you would
When as a little child
You'd make some mistake,
Shuffling your feet nervously
Like you would when you'd fail a test
Or get a note from school,
You stood in front of me,
My precious, my beautiful,
Who I'd caught hidden under the quilt,
Head buried beneath pillows,
Crying muffled cries of pain.
You finally made eye contact, I know
You waited for my trademark eye roll
For an admonishment, for a
"See, I told you so!"
But dear, before you declared me
As your fiercest enemy, did you ever wonder
That you, the girl- broken, shaken, yet defiant,
Once lived inside of me?
Love created you
And for the following thirty seven weeks
And twenty two
Days you grew within me,
Bit by bit, cell by cell,
Each moment we spent together,
Sealed our souls,
We were best friends even before you were born.
I'd be lost, forlorn all day at work
When I'd leave you behind at home,
You too would find contentment when finally
You'd feed from your mother's *****.
I've seen you crawl,
Seen you stumble,
Helped you on your feet when you'd fall,
I've laughed when you've cackled,
I've cried when you have shed a single tear,
I'm a being conjoined to every emotion you feel,
So, my Inaayat dear,
Instead of crying behind closed doors,
And saying "It's okay" without
meeting my gaze,
You should've walked up to me,
Informed me about the time and place,
And mother-daughter, we'd embark
To bash up that ruthless villain
Who broke your delicate heart.

Each time I say it,
She brushes off my seriousness
With a careless laugh,
But I swear her body
Emanates this enchanting waft
That comes from no other.
It's exclusive, it's divine,
The language of her apocrines,
That's mine,
Just mine to understand.
And if I could, I'd take all that fragrance
In my bare hands,
And securely I'd preserve it,
Immortalizing in my possession,
Her- in all her glory
Her- in all her heat.

If I could be a poet
Not just on paper,
But in every moment of life,
I know I'd keep you much happier.

I'd have no ego
To bruise you with,
For a slave of rhythm,
Doesn't sing egotistical hymns,
Like a poet, I'd be giving and kind
Like a poet, my heart would double up
As my mind.

If i could be a poet,
Not just on paper,
I would never be the heart breaker
I am for you,
For who would know better
Separation, agony and pain
Than someone who cries only
through words and smudged ink stains.

I wish I were a poet
I'd be truthful and loyal
Like poets are to their art,
Like a precious manuscript, I'd guard
Your gem of a heart.

Forgive me love, for this handicap of mine,
For being the kind of lover
Whose poetry for you either
Stays bottled up inside,
Or manifests itself
Merely on paper.

Well, today's the kind of day
When I can just sit at my doorstep,
My chappals splashing into the
Little puddle of rainwater that's collected.
Today, I can breathe in fresh, pure greenery,
Feast into this inviting scenery,
And break into a little poetry!
About?
Maybe about how loud the clouds were!
In expressing their happiness,
Their love for us thirsty souls?
Maybe about how the cool breeze
Whizzed past our parched skins,
Blowing to us, its cool Hello?
Or about how squealing kids
Shirts thrown away, drenched skins,
Raced along their paper canoes?

Oh I can write on anything I want,
Oh I'll just hum along Mother Nature's song,
Today is the day for poetry,
Today's rhythm can never go wrong.

A world's difference there is
Between expanse and depth.
They may give you promises
As vast as the breadth
Of the biggest oceans,
Yet, if it doesn't burrow as deep
As their heart's most inner cove,
Remember, my friend,
It isn't true love.

Her mighty pen glides
Enveloping in hot flames
Of words, this cold world.

Palindromically flowing
Mirrored thoughts
Race back and forth
Forth and back.
That and this,
This and that,
All identical
~Same to same~
Identical all,
That and this,
This and that
Back and forth
Forth and back
Race mirrored thoughts
Flowing palindromically.

Screeching screaming
Flat tire
Halts journey!
Menacing night-
Fangs bared,
Nastily stares
~Crouching~
Stares nastily,
Bared fangs,
Night, menacing!
Journey halts,
Tire flat,
Screaming, screeching.

I don't tell Ma when
I put on this gooey, yellow,
Besan-turmeric face pack.
Too embarrassing to let her know
That her daughter finally bothers
About those useless things
Like oily skin,
Like ****** glow.

Untamed!*
Its landlocked audacity!
My arrogant city
Needs a sea.

Gasp!
I stutter!
Chest rising, air-hungry...
Again, I sputter!

Efforts to resuscitate
My grappling form
Are all falling in vain
What is this storm?

Hands reaching out
With a desperate yearn for something
I lost, while I was busy
Extracting, gaining, bargaining.

Parched throat
Unmoistened by water
Tremulous heart
Beating feebler, faster.

No antidote works,
No therapies suffice,
Oxygen flows through,
Still I'm devoid of life.

The world dejectedly shakes its head
Everything known to man
Has been done. But
twists of fate, who can understand?

'Cause in a magical instant,
The Hand divine
Rests on my ebbing existence
One more time.

Once again dysrhythmic heart beats
Start dancing in orderly unison.
Breaths start entering-exiting
In perfect, beautiful, natural fashion.

In goes life,
The reason for my being,
In goes truth,
All knowledge, all meaning.

And finally, after the
Evil, cidal, unending eternity,
Out comes a deep, long, fulfilling
Exhalation of Poetry.

Now, alive, I truly am.

He vanished one fine day
Left his cellphone on his bed
Packed no clothes
Withdrew no money from the bank
Spoke to no one
He was under no debt
And otherwise too,
He didn't appear distressed-
Well, assuming so,
Because whenever you would
Mock him, call him a name or two,
Become aghast and ask
"Who gets married and starts a family at fifty two!?"-
He'd not do much,
He'd mutter few profanities,
Or curse your favorite cricketing team,
Or he'd just skip lunch,
Go for a stroll and he'd be fine again.
But this time he strolled away
Without a trace
Leaving you to scour newspapers everyday
Matching the photos they print
Of abandoned dead bodies,
With his prematurely aged face.

Popping out from slumberous state,
Little buds, you come to life.
Fight, fist, fend the odds,
You’re different; you survive.

Combative, commanding, cruel,
Your army, every restraint exceeds,
As it marches on, devouring
The very platter on which it feeds.

Slithering, slipping stealthily,
Deadly tentacles spare no bone, sinew.
Boundaries are blurred; your territory expands,
Your militia continues to exponentially grow.

And soon, your red flags of victory-
Those flags of death, demise and doom
Are planted everywhere; each bit
Of terrain you’ve invaded and consumed.

There you sit, content, in the middle of all the gloom,
Immortal, indestructible, infinite.
With power of the magnitude you possess,
There’s no force that can give you a fight.

And when flies of decay begin to hover over
Your kingdom, you smile, flexing your pincers.
Thriving on the depressing glow of the setting sun,
You- the kark, the crab, the cancer.

*(to the malady that ate my Grandmother away)

This* big a commitment,
And this tiny an assurance!
But I guess when a guy
So tall, so tough,
Takes his finger
That too the littlest,
And with a face
So earnest,
Curls it around yours,
While making a side remark
On how easily the two "pinkies" fit,
He means to keep his promise,
Oh yes, he means it.

Lie in prostration, child,
When life bereaves you
Of all truth, all inspiration
All light, all the ways.

For they'll find you,
They'll come to you,
Bathed in glory,
Unreal beauty and grace,
Twin guardian angels,
Soft, tender glow
On perfectly sculpted face
Capped with sparkling halo.

All you'll need to do then,
Is to rise, lift your arms,
And you'll feel your pain
Start to slowly dissipate,
As you'll cup your weak,
Trembling palms, to
*Reach out and touch Hope,
Reach out and touch Faith.

His situation was dire.
Despite having taken shelter
Inside that ring of fire,
Fuelled with whiskey and ****,
And ****** with flesh,

She still held in her beautiful hands
The end of the rope around his neck.

Stepping into, and out of the flames
With unbelievable, unnatural ease,
She would tighten and loosen
That noose of her deadly love,
As and when she pleased.

Gentle breeze
Tickles my toes
Rocks me softly
Back and forth
On the swing,
Arms wide open
Legs outstretched
But not quite touching the Fore.
Head propped backwards
But not quite returning to the Before.
Eyes with comfort
Fluttering, closed
Simply suspended.
The Present, the Now,
Illuminating my very core.

Kneeling, I cower
Seeing my merciless Lord
Looking down on me.

I sit, still surprised
At witnessing His greatness,
Oh so fortunate,

To be permitted
In the sanctum sanctorum
of His holiness.

My lips are eager,
But cautiously, taking in
The scent of His feet,

They plant tenderly,
On His wrinkled skin kisses,
Kisses more and more.

Losing my own self,
Forgetting the universe,
Immersed in worship,

My hands in fondness,
Move up His body of stone,
Wishing to please Him.

All fervent prayers
Are at last answered, when my
Deity shudders,

As my tongue reaches
The root of that blessed fountain
Which seeds all of life.

I think
The reason I felt
All tingly, when you asked,
"Ma'am, have you fastened your seat belt?"
was this Uniform of yours.
Why else would I blatantly stare
At you walking towards the cockpit,
Wondering if you'll look as good
Without it?

-Hello Mr. Blue!
How are you?
-I am fine,
And what about you?

The reason I don't wear makeup
Is that I don't want there to be
Anything on my face
That distracts you from Me.
And no, I don't look pretty
Buried beneath the layer
Of foundation and gloss.
Because then, I'm barely there.
Only when unadulterated, untouched,
Does my skin look perfect,
Adorned with the best rouge there is-
Which is, my Self.

In a land where the sun will shine
Softly on our bare skins,
The cool, calm water will flow over
Our feet dipped in-
Sparkling, soothing, tickling,
While we’ll both lazily lie,
Arms spread out, time stretched out,
Truths and worries left behind,
Where the only possible distraction
From each other’s sight could be
That of a butterfly fluttering by,
We'll track, over lilacs and yellows, its flight,
Then suddenly we’ll catch each other’s eyes,
And once again forget the presence of all life,
Just soaking in the profoundness,
Of being side by side.
And my fingers, freed from
All shackles of wrong and right,
Will slowly move over soft, wet grass,
Eliminating whatever distance before us lies,
I’ll touch for a moment, your fingertips,
And I’ll test you, wait for your reaction,
I’ll see it on your smiling lips,
And at last with your heavenly fingers,
Mine will entwine,
To finally fill that love-shaped void in our hearts,
For the union of our souls to never grow apart.

Wait for me in that land, my dear,
Wait for me; I’ll meet you there.

He had suddenly spoken that day-
Gaze fixed at the cup of ice cream in his hand,
As his other hand caressed my hair,
In the gentle coolness of October air-
That whenever he saw half-melted, half-scooped out
Strawberry- soft, thick, flowing, pink,
He would always think,
That when a spoon would run over,
Its smoothness to subtly scrape,
How sensuously it would fall like a poem,
In graceful curve, in rhythmic shape.
"And over the cold, ragged edges that remain,
I run my fingers", he said,
"And I get that feeling- you know?-
When you rub your palm against red velvet?
Yes, that!"

I nodded, feigning understanding, but oh!
How there could be poetry in strawberry,
I had not the slightest clue,
Until he smeared some with his fingers,
And slowly kissed it off my lips.
Then, I knew.

The fortress is soundproof no more,
And the voices I had once blocked out,
Are creeping in, seeping in, towering over me,
They accuse me, they shout.

Peaceful silence marred by vengeful shrieks,
Blissful ignorance quelled by demanding questions,
Pristine air darkened by black tears,
And surrounded by all, I stand in the centre.

A spotlight of love-turned-ugly encircles me,
And for the first time, I feel insecure, alone.
I take my hand and place it on my chest,
Trying to feel, in vain, my heart of stone.

Silent  heart.
Pulselessness.
Vacant chest.
Airlessness.

Such a curse- this emotionless machine
that swells up on others’ despair!
The robotic pump that never breaks down,
That’s never needed any healing or repair.

I hear the frantic beats of all the hearts
I stomped upon, nonchalantly broke.
Then, smothered by the darkness of my own being,
I gasp and wheeze, I choke.

When will my veins distend with passion?
When will my heart spout unhindered blood,
And add into my lifeless existence-
Fire and pleasure, pain and love?

I’ll unlock now, these strong iron gates,
And stand outside into the hot, harsh light,
I’ve been huddled up in the dark all my life,
I’ll expose my soul now, to set my wrongs right.

And for the one-
Who’ll unfold, unfurl, enter, penetrate,
And my stony abrasiveness, slowly grate-
I’ll tear open my chest, and silently wait.

I’ll take you on a journey,
Holding you by your hand,
I’m the first girl to hold it, right?
I’ll grasp your trembling fingers tight
And lead you into the unknown,
Whispering in your ear words
That you’d only fantasized about.
You’ll whisper back, that without
Me you can’t imagine living anymore,
And I’ll carefully twist my words,
So you won’t notice that I didn’t assure
You with the promise of being by your side forever.
Together we’ll walk towards that black hole,
Whose door I’ll have decorated with color,
And you, unsuspecting, will lean on me,
Will smile at me, will thank God you found me.
A minute more of contentment I’ll give you,
But that’ll be it.
And before you’ll even realize, I’ll push you in.
You’ll turn around.
You’ll be all alone.
Surrounded by pitch dark silence.
Trapped in the emptiness of betrayal.
Caged in your thoughts and second thoughts.
Entangled in the web of self-doubt.
Tossing and turning and hitting invisible walls.
No one to answer your cries and calls.
Kneeling on the abyss, filled only with anger
For the girl who pushed you into black infinity,
You’ll lie in there, helpless, still unsure
Whether you hate me, or you love me.
(Or do both).
While I’ll be gone, ****!
And my world is soundproof.
So, oblivious to your travails,
I’ll sit comfortably,
And will flip through the pages of my diary,
That records names of all those who had before you,
Fallen in the very same manner, for me.
And I’ll pen your name down, another one in the list.
Then I’ll think of that girl in my school bus
who’d once mocked me-
“No one will ever say I Love You to you”.
I’ll scoff at that decade-old memory,
Setting out on the search for a new casualty.

“Yes, kid, I speak no lie when I say
That I’ve seen the whole world with my eyes,
I’ve sailed through waters, trudged barren lands,
Climbed tricky mountains, dived from high skies.

Different masters, different  creases pressing
Into my not-soft but not-so-hard skin, I’ve graced
Different shoes of different colors,
Materials, textures and shapes!

A hundred years I’ve lived in the best shoes, yes sir.
Finest, smartest leather sole, that’s me.
Don’t go by the frayed edges, kiddo,
There ain't no place where this black body hasn't been.

Ha! Look at those young eyes grow big already.
I hope you don’t faint in awe when I tell you
The story of the famous hunter who would
Silently surf deep jungles in his pointed boots.

Lions would yelp and tigers would weep,
For he'd never miss a mark when he’d shoot!
Or the one about that daring pirate whose lucky sole I was!
Only with me would he climb wealth-laden ships to loot.

Or maybe, that one, about the valiant soldier,
What an honor it was, kid, to accompany him as he ran,
Gun in hand, grit in heart, yours truly in shoe,
Single-handedly slaying armies for his Mother Land.

And you must have heard about the mighty landlord?
No? the one with the bungalow with a thousand rooms?
No? the one with the gold and silver in piles?
No? oh I was there too, inside one jewel-studded shoe!

Your ten-year old imagination can’t even wander
To where I’ve been for real.
And after an exciting lifetime of adventure,
I just decided to retire, and so I ended up here.”

Little mouth opened and shut in wonder,
As the tattered sole lay in his hands covered with dirt,
He listened in rapture to stories of victories and riches,
The tales penetrating his innocent heart.

O great leather deity, come with me, I’ll take you home,
You’re going to have fun with me too!
He squeaks; takes a piece of rope and ties the sole
Around his uncovered right foot.

And walks away, pleased, hitching up
His rag-picking bag on his thin shoulder.
One foot strapped with discarded, torn leather,
The other, dragging bare over the earth.

Hey!
Listen. Listen you!
I wanted to say-
Yes of course I'm talking to you,
So I was saying-
Don't get me wrong
But when you'd so nonchalantly
Placed your fingers on my shoulder
And had tapped lightly
To say "excuse me",
I'd made an irritated face
But just when I was about to make way,
Then-momentarily-
Oh for a fleeting second it must have been-
My eyes had met your eyes,
And though they were shielded by your thin-rimmed spectacles,
I swear,  I could see them beautifully shine.
And the dark black of your hair,
Black salted with those stray strands of white-
Those young white strands-
I hadn't meant to stare-
But they looked so beautiful,
Messed up, mixed up,
It was almost involuntary,
Some sort of magic, believe me!
I know I'd looked for a little bit longer
Than would be considered appropriate
But I'd just got busy following your lips
As they'd curved and took the form of something
That looked like a crooked, confused smile
And I'd kept looking until I'd realized
That it was just your way of politely inquiring
About why I was staring.

That time I'd gone red and had
Averted my gaze
But here I am, I followed you,
Yes I did, I just had catch up with you
Because I had to tell you
That even though we'd met for a moment
Something unprecedented happened.
Nothing major-
And I don't know how but
This heart of mine-
It's really, really so rogue, I agree-
Yes so my heart somehow,
Got entangled into
The awkwardness, the oddness, the beauty
Of that little encounter of ours,
And like it never was mine,
It tore away from me,
And it stubbornly says
That what it wants is shelter inside your chest,
So it can stay near your heart,
And beat along with it.
Funny it is, but what can be done?
Yes, so, hear me out carefully,
I am about to say it finally-
That now that my heart has decided
That what it wants
Is to be yours,
And only yours,
Could you play along with it for now?
Could you, perhaps, let my heart,
Beat with yours, for
Just some time?
I'll try to dissuade it later on,
But right now, this is just what it wants!
I would've ignored it but it wouldn't listen to me
You know how adamant
These hearts can be!
So, tell me, what do you feel
About this proposal of mine,
Would you like to accept it?
All my heart wants is a home near yours.
Please, oh please,
Do keep it.
:)

Flavored hukkas are passed around,
Alcohol and paan bring the mehfil alive,
The Ustad ji sits down and flexes his fingers,
He knows he’ll be working all night.

Dha dhin dhin dha, dha dhin dhin dha
Na tin tin ta
Ta dhin dhin dha,
Move the Ustad ji’s fingers on the tabla.

While with a veil on her face,
And feet dipped in and henna-colored,
Lips in cheap red lipstick covered,
She unfalteringly, gracefully enters.

Her steps are matched by the chhan chhan
of the ghungroos tied around her ankles so slender.
Eyes set on her, feast on her youth,
Just right for the taste of all her customers.

Bejeweled hands placed on waist,
She stands at the centre of attention,
She lifts a foot, readies to dance,
And begins the nightly convention.

Skillfully, perfectly, sensuously move
Feet well-trained since childhood days,
Harmonizing with the timbre
That the Ustad ji creates.

Tin tin na dhin na dhin na
On the tabla, experienced fingers beat.
Chhan chhan chhan chhan,
She dances, repeating the rhythm with her feet.

Metal bells strike against one another
And chhan chhan chhan-a chhan she goes,
Making breaths prance and jump,
As she strikes on the ground her heels and toes.

Then suddenly she stops and gasps,
Over disgruntled, impatient groans she tries
to hear the sound that flows in, only to her ears.
Several rooms away, a baby cries.

Naach! A voice booms,
Arey naach! More join in.
A glass of wine is shattered by an irritated one.
But she stands still, clutching her chest, frozen.

One sways up to where she stands,
For the veil covering her face, his hands dive.
He uncovers her, but is blinded by the sight of her beauty
And her tears that fill her kajal-smeared eyes.

She’s shaken back to reality as she looks all around.
Her sparkling pall is off her face.
She sees all those drunk men who’ve paid to watch her dance.
She knows she has to make the sound of the cries fade away.

So she stomps her feet on the ground till it hurts.
Hair flying out of braid, bangles clanging,
Anguish replaces her innocent loveliness,
The music in the air is now shrill,  jarring.

Her steps match with the tabla’s rhythm no more.
But she dances, planting her feet so hard they weep.
She silences every sound with the noise of her ghungroos,
Praying that the night will lull her wailing son to sleep.

Mommy, it’s late night; I want you to stop talking,
And drift off to peace as we sleep in our bed.
Then for a while I’ll wait for you to turn to the other side
So I can take my hand under the covers
And touch myself.

It’s not easy being me the whole day.
Hiding behind unflattering clothes, books, unkempt hair,
The other girl living inside of me tries to come out from here and there,
So I need to keep her tamed by
Telling her that I love her too.

She’s black, evil, and beautiful.
I know you wouldn’t approve
Of her existence inside your little girl,
But believe me, she’s the only real part of my fake world
And I need to be one with her each night
Only then will tomorrow morning feel alright.

I’ll touch myself in pursuit of the moment
When everything but pure pleasure, will be forgotten.
I’ll chase that instant; it’ll taunt me and tease
Then I’ll finally reach out to its heavenly release.

I’ll hug myself, exhausted and weak,
She will softly lull me to sleep,
The two of us, closely intertwined,
My black and my white.
And in the morning, as your darling,
I’ll start the day over,
Smiling with the thought of the secret lover
Who waits for me under the covers.