few questions...

You drive down the same road...everyday...

Does my absence come along?

You hear those haunting tunes...

Does my lyric come along?

You traverse familiar contours...

Does my shiver come along?

You live in bright realities....

Does my dreamy shadow tag along???

bloom

As the night burns away,

Ashes of dreams start falling...

Aroma of unfulfilled promises starts spreading...

The window pane shatters,

Fragments of me must prick your gloom,

A rainy night,

My pain is in full bloom...

Wet blue darkness

Your fragrance is melting in this wet blue darkness,

My being touches your memory,

A sliver of mercury slips by,

And darkness wilts forever...

Blooms forth a tear,

With your name,

Hold the inkpot steady,

Least it spills the last drop of emotion,

Leaving my song empty,

Without a haunting end...

Dusty crossroads

Her faint steps on the heated asaphalt

Her missing anklet and cracked heels

Yet she dances in gay abandon…

Whose Radha is she?

What does her Kanha do?

Her innocence is her jewel?

Or some bait hanging for men?

She dances to her own lilting tune…

Did you notice the half lyrics?

Who taught them?

Where are her dreams?

Does she dream of indifference?

Lustful eyes?

Or just pennies?

What is the quest of her being?

Will she ever read the poem of her life?

Or will it always remain a half lyric world for her?

Her tears...

I think I shall write

About her tears

Honest real tears

Salty acrid and burning

Burning with pangs of seperation

Guilt of betrayal 

And burden of loyalty

She wore them well

Like fine refulgent pearls

Strung in pellucid thoughts

Strained across her bosom

Taut and real

She cried for love

She cried for her love

She cried…

I was dazed

By her tears

By her love

And by her

What is the burden

That weighs her down

Makes her cry

And yet she is at peace

How can tears bring peace?

How can betrayal make you calm?

And how can love liberate?

Crisscrossing questions

Play of words

Did I have anything else to offer?

No soothing words

No hands to wipe her tears

No love to match hers

Will you cry for me someday?

Did you do that once for me?

Will there be a poem of our seperation

Will there be words to describe

Our love?

breaking free

That brute force

Those moments shortly before breaking free

Those ramshackles strained..

That last metal giving away…

The gory and heavy memories

They captured me for long

Your every touch had turned lead

Boring through my being

Every poem froze in my eyes

And choked me from within

I knew you were right

You made me feel wrong

You left swiftly

I dragged along…

Love was always the only way

Commitment was your stay

I was free

And you were bound

Solace in each other

I now wonder

How we found..

I have survived

Your venomous seperation

And I am not at all regretting…

The realization that my deeds are blasphemous,

 by itself was emancipating….

I  

MUMBAI: < SINGLE>

This city must have had lovers, haters and converts from both the earlier mentioned groups...well I for once am standing in a place where all these club’s doors surround me...the Mumbai lovers, the Mumbai haters and the haters turned lovers and lovers turned haters group...why do I say that! Well I come from a very strong inner faction of Mumbai haters..that faction which is based out of an uppity city like Pune!
Such blatant abuse of grammar and the vernacular language in particular, certainly rubs us the wrong way! I am still no different but now staying in Mumbai, the “apni gali mein sher” status is sorely missing!
The ultimate reality of Mumbai, I kept escaping it by literally fleeing Mumbai every weekend..till I decided to use the other approach that of fight than flight!
And voila, its almost as good as discovering a dream lover in the very same guy whom you thought was extremely repulsive at the first glance!
First date with Mumbai happened to please me beyond measure! And my! what extraaa efforts did this lover of mine take! A place replete with total madness, boho ruled the world there and arts and paintings and all things began and breathed Creativity in psychedelic pink or an intellectual shade of purple I think!
Kala Ghoda 2009 shall remain etched in memory forever! What a weekend was that! It not only touched but almost left an indelible mark on every facet of my being...me the crazy boho chic, me the painter, me the photographer, me the secret interior decorator, me the lil gal within, me the intellectual, me the socially aware citizen...me the youngistani and ultimately me!
But it so happened that I was getting edgy and not letting Mumbai my lover meet up with me again...i kept avoiding the next date for months on end...kept running to my good ol’Pune! Savoring home food, Vaishali and Roopali and Barista delights...listening and speaking chaste Marathi and loving my bike rides more than ever!!!
But they say a true lover goes out of his way to get you back on track! Mumbai did just that! A shopping spree in Kalba devi market, Gandhi market and there it was back to regaling me, enticing me with silks and chiffons and all things nice, nudging me gently to contribute to the economy....shopping never seemed such a tempting sin! Till it meant that I had lost my hard earned money to silks and vain chiffons and crepes of the highest order! Then the silken threads pulled me again..this time to the scented by lanes of Masjid Market....the bakhoors and nargis ittars swirling around me...i was slightly limp with the heavy scents... scents in Mumbai is this story and scents of Mumbai is another story...you get them all captured perfectly in the vial called “local compartment” one moment it’s the soothing mogra and suvarna champak and the other moment it’s the fresh and not so fresh prawns and some such variety of fish!!! And this comes back to back mind you! Till your nostrils are threatening a strike of sorts for overworking them!!!
Those now regular train rides to south Mumbai at the slightest excuse, those amblings on Marine drive and longing looks cast at the sea! Add some soul stirring music to the setting and you have a perfect recipe for the evening! This is how he makes it special for me...all the time! Mumbai the lover....
And then come crazy weekends when I am glued at home..within the confines of my apartment, the sun and the grime and sweat keep me in..he sneaks in and starts humming that crazy solitude tune in my mind...till I am driven crazy beyond repair...and regaining normalcy ensures its Monday already!!! This is how it is with us....
The Puneri porgi in me is irritated by such on the face advances of Mumbai, how uncouth! my sophistication mutters under its breath...but the unmindful soul continues wooing me out of my Pucca Puneri ways.....
And then comes a weekend like this...a ride to Juhu for a whim, eating roadside stuff to test the alertness of the white blood cell army in my systems...it turns out that the army ain’t that prepared...hehe but yeah it wins anyways...
And then comes the ultimate shopping spree..multi hued crazy footwear...lets forget the count..and this lover of mine hardly complains about it! Eggs me on to buy more so as to pump more money in his lean economy biceps...
Comes a flirty Sunday, he cajoles me out for an afternoon soirée. I go all the way to Goregaon and return within minutes of reaching the famed Mall there...why? Oh just like that!!! Did I tell, he got me come back through the soothing environs of Arey colony! Now that was sweet...
Finally the movie plan materializes and I get to relax a while with a neat coffee....I love this kind of solitude I say...he says..dudette am around...what solitude...
The movie plan works well! We watch the movie with a single ticket! Mumbai needs no ticket! He’s omnipresent....almost! in this part of the world!
And a stroll down the very crowded Andheri roads till a bevy of malls pulls me in, as iron filings to magnet...I stroll about and keep riding elevators and escalators till I reach a dreamland called Landmark! And then it’s all lost! I lose track of time till the kind staff there, suitably puts me and the lights out, in that order!!!
A crazy enough Arabic dinner followed by some brandy cookies and am already smartening under his hypnotic gaze...Mumbai my lover! Gallantly leading me out of the now deserted mall, into the Mumbai special mode of transport...spluttering and muttering, I reach home...with a smile permanently sewn on my lips...feeling lighter..erm that;s not me but my wallet...and nicer about another evening well spent with this lover of mine!!!
Did I ever complain of anything? Nah! This affair is certainly turning out an affair to remember!!!

Shopaholism...coming out with my addiction.... ;)

Bound by the chains of work, dumped in the dungeon called office...the shopaholic wailed...for freedom..for hope. On the tiny prison window, twittered a cute pink birdie...want a respite? Here’s some magic...but remember girlie you must not think of shopping or you shall have to come back to this prison!!

She happily agreed...escaped the dungeon and ran towards freedom...a charming knight drove her to a dark cellar...she winced.. The screen was suddenly aglow with those magical moments....” Confessions of a shopaholic...”

“I mustn’t shop, I don’t need it! It’s not needed...just cherish these moments...”was it Becky Bloomwood saying it or was it me repeating it? Lines suddenly blurred...movie and dreamy reality kept fusing together while the convict kept traveling New York – Mumbai in those movie hours...promising herself that New York ought to be my next work destination...why? Does this recession offer me a glam job in New York??? No! Just that I would be able to shop better....

Shopaholic meets Shopaholic...what potent brew could you ever think of!!!

Well before it get more ambiguous let's get you to  the story of dear Rebecca..the girl inflicted with shopaholism....as the tag line says..”all she needed was a little more credit”

The girl has everything, style, spunk and talent...our dudette in question has one more thing a glam clutch to hold all her credit cards! A tiny girl who grew up to those magical squares which allowed her to buy all that her heart desired....one swoosh! It did sweep her off her feet...all the time..it was the swoosh of the credit card!!!

Desires and wants blur often for growing and independent women..the cities offer titillations off the streets with those four letter words...”SALE”

Rebecca represents that class of newly independent urban woman who knows exactly what she wants and how to get it! Albeit some mess here and there...but then that’s how stories proceed...right...take a thread and entangle it and detangle it again...

The story of our heroine proceeds pretty much like that...she gets more and more shopping done, piles up credit and suddenly with the credit card mails she realizes that she has been fired!!! How very recessionistic...(realistic!!!) so now we have a helpful and sensible friend of the heroine who tries to calculate the exact depth of the debt pit our lady has dug for herself!! A classic amount it turns out to be..In this dire situation braced with hope the lady goes out to seek work with a fashion magazine called Alette!

En route she is cajoled by the mannequin to buy a stylish green scarf...how can she refuse even when she is falling short of 20$ and who gives’em to her? A no nonsense poker faced finance guy of course!

 Happy she reaches her dream job destination only to realize that the job is taken...some smart advice from the receptionist lands her in front of our very same no nonsense guy...she is interviewed for the financial magazine! All silly crap she says and gets back home disappointed, hating our Mr No nonsense...

A swap of letters in drunken stupor and voila! We have Becky working for the financial magazine...the ultimate color palette in the otherwise grey setting of the office!

And my! Does she bring only color with her? Nah! A lot more layman theories about complex Financial concepts and there we have a successful columnist in Rebecca aka the girl in the green scarf!

Life now is about dodging many things like a nagging friend asking her to attend SA meetings (Shopaholics Anonymous), sales  which still giving her those highs, a hard driven credit recovery agent and to top it all a demanding boss!! How our lady manages that all is sheer screen delight...go on watch it...

What next...a splendid collection of shoes, clothes and all things nice..make every gal go weak in her knees..was it a movie or me sitting in one gigantic double spread of a glam fashion magazine!!! That was what the convict felt!! The recession, the heat and the dungeon seemed far away...so did the knight who got her here....

Okie veering back to the story....What next! Becky Bloomwood gets too famous too soon, falls for Mr No Nonsense but then he still is holding back....down comes crashing all her hopes after a major showdown on a TV show! All lies are strewn like those shopping tags from all her shopping bouts...(this is made up by me..)

Reality shakes up our dame, makes her auction all her stuff including the famed green scarf...

Does Rebecca Bloomwood now the very unemployed Becky - the girl sans the green scarf, get her scarf back? Does she manage to get back to her dear friend on her wedding day? Does she actually transform Mr No nonsense poker face into her prince charming? And importantly...will she get rid of her addiction...

Go on and watch the movie for all this...babes out there, go watch it n feel nice in bits and parts...after all shopping does make a woman feel so complete...so loved and so very liberated....

Guys out there...follow our knight’s deed..take those charming chicks you know for this one flick..you might get an insight in a female mind!

And all moms and dads...please go out and watch why their daughters need a new dress for every occasion and after every mood swing!! Shopping is therapy!!! Of course in small doses...

 PS: After this movie heavy with memory of those lovely shopping bags from all her earlier shopping sprees...our absconding convict was taken to the ultimate torture cell....a glitz mall!!! And what do you expect? Not to think of shopping? Not be tempted about noting down mentally all the places that she had to come!!! But poof! As the birdie warned! The spell did break!!

And the convict was transported back to the dungeon in a heavy yellow metal box on wheels...

Back to the rut...chained to work....

Confessions of a shopaholic...seems like just a pretty dream....

The pretty dame starring the movie? Isla Fisher, Mr No nonsense Poker face? The very cute-i-so-much-want to-ruffle-his hair Hugh Dancy

The convict escaping prison: Of course ME! The pink birdie:IdeaSmith, The knight in a shining car: Moksh, The spices of the evening: Ankita aka Superchooha,  the  super cool Papillion- Rehab and the cute Punk polka Dots

A memory of escape, fun and magic...

This preview of the Sophie Kinsella written novel turned movie, Confessions of a Shopaholic was courtesy The Social Media Catalyst. Interesting watch!

Colors....

You colored my sensitivity
With your blue hue
You smeared her forehead
With your golden glow
You completed her being
With your crimson mark
You got her a rainbow
With your sweet word
Everyone got a color
Each one unique
And then you gave her
An unending color
The eternal dark
Of your being....
Deep foreboding yet divine
And all this while we all thought
He colored me
He is mine...
You never belonged
To either color
You were always the flow within
Coloring each current
In myriad hues
And then swirling into oblivion
So pure, so transparent
And colorless.....

Darkness

Darkness....your darkness
Still fills me sometimes
Those daggers of touches
Still run across my being
Touching lightly yet bleeding
I shiver inwardly
And take a deep breath
Slowly oozes out
That dark deep fear
Till it fills, heals and seals
The crisscross marks
Of the places where
Our destinies collided....

a place my own...

I keep returning

To these four walls

To cry, to wail

To laugh, to share

Every joy, every secret

And every time I fail

I keep coming back to you!

Yes I do…

But not for me

Neither for you

I keep coming back

To recreate the world

I leave with you

I dwell there

Reveal there

Am there

Am bare

‘Cause a world outside

Is hardly fair…

I keep returning to these four walls…

These precious hours and two cities

One whose alleys crowd my mind

One whose pull you could never resist

You slept through the strains of

Long forgotten distant lands

While I roamed with your memories

In the city of our fate…

the perfume box...

The spring urged me

To smell her virgin smells

Full of life, vibrant

Dancing off mango trees…

While I languorously

Dwelt in my past

Full of your smell

Hinting his smell

And their never fading smell….

Yours was like you

Inconceivable, brash

Open and suddenly shy!

Salty and uncertain

Sour at some places

Misty and fresh

Always…mostly…

His was deep

Coarse and heavy

Musky and hinting

Selfish…

Cleverly guised

Under crisp paper like aroma…

Theirs was stable

Predictable almost

Silent and consistent

Meek yet enriching

Stoic in its bearing

And it began and ended

In me…

It’s not like my past is smelly and rotting

It’s just that I love thinking of it all

In smells, emanating from tiny bottles

Holding those magical moments

Each distinctly dressing me, completing me

Defining me…

Now, I need a new box, a newer tiny bottle…

The spring beckons…

ahem...

Love still keeps me awake

Is a startling discovery

Or it was your love

That kept me awake always

Not even letting me enter my dreams

And linger a lil longer

With all my passing lovers… 

waves

The ebbing wave

Once rushed back to another one

Asking her at once

To rise higher

And plunge deeper

To dream of their maiden home

The horizon!

And yet embrace

In broken glory

The shores of reality…

I did not sleep

I could not sleep

‘Cause the unsaid

Between you and me

Spoke to me all night…

absolutes

Happiness not only eats

It drinks and sleeps with sorrow

Like all opposites

They too live in complete harmony

And abide by their agreement of discord

In this absolute world

They share a cracked mirror

To reflect their duality!

sting of power

I don’t wish to kill you

Just enslave you for a while

Feel the sting of power

And the prick of hallow pride

Watch you feign death

And the given up battle

Letting the twinkle of cruelty

Change the iris’s hue

All mirrored fraction by fraction

Till the mourning dies down

And you rise from your death

To assault my convictions

And leave your ugly victory mark

On my shallow, empty hand

Which once tried to kill you…

tangles of destiny

Come and I shall lead you

Through the layers of existence

Till we reach that knot

Of our souls…

Strange silken threads

Entangled and detangled

Let me show those

Wells of sensations

Quenching your thirst

Of generations

Let me place the flame of the moon

Under the canopy of fragrance

For you to walk past

Into the palace of my existence

Let me sprinkle some tears

And moisten the petals

Of hesitant desires

Waiting to be touched and crushed

To poetic deaths…

Hold my hands and clasp it light

Least our destinies

Are entwined forever…

the lamp

As the darkness of silence

Turns a shade darker

You light the lamp

Of conversation between us

The glass it glows and warms up

Comforts and bakes

Your emotions

Melts mine at places…

Till am afraid

Unsure of your intentions

Will the wick burn out?

And blacken the glass?

Sooty and opaque

Just like our feelings…

Or did my erratic breath

Just flicker that flame?

Will you cup your palms?

And steady the lamp

Of conversation between us?

farewell......

When his hands clasp yours

And the fires are raging

Slip one ornamental hand

Into the recesses of suppressed desires

Bejeweled and hidden

In your breast

Let your painted fingers

Rush slightly over my bare spine

For that one last moment

Of trembling sensations

Clasp your hand around my waist

Hold my being tightly yet lightly

Like you’d clasped the first butterfly

Our togetherness may shiver

And meekly resist

Maybe beg for life…

Close those enchanting eyes

Least a tear might betray…

And pick me from there

A flash and ashes will merge

Watch that burning

Feel that heat, feel that cold

As he waits for the scented water

To pass through the intricate patterns

Of your hands into his…

A befitting farewell

Was my last wish….

canvas....

Take a quick dip

Watch the swirl colour past you

Feel enchanted by the myriad shadow

Of your being

Wet and whet

Set up in white

With hints of red

Go meet the green

Create profusion

Of long lost woods

Just a dash of brown

Their clasped embrace

That quivering drop of dew

At the tip of her hair

Did you create it?

Or its make believe?

Paintbrushes and canvas

Or taut, touched and framed illusions???

You are my last indulgence…

I send you couplets

Full of hope and joy

I wish you the moon,

Sun and the ever changing sky

I serve you the last saved up

Piece of dream and cream

I see you in the mirrors

Of the soul

I paint you with

The faintest shade of pink

Least you recognize it

In your sleep…

Least your blue quilt

Faintly gives off

That quaint smell of

My stale unshed tear

I fear you’d raise your hand

And let me play

With the mirages of destiny

And simply clasp my fingers

At the first tinkling of laughter

Ours…

And then lead me back

Into the streets so bare

Through the latticed alleys

Of time and prime

Into my own world…

I shall cherish that oasis of touch

Always…reminding myself

That you were my last indulgence…

let the night....

Let the night go on…

Let the darkness sing its mystic song

Be there always those twinkling stars

Silence in its velvety coat

Be there always the dream in a dream

Let the night go on…

Let the roles come alive

Be there always buzz in the memory hive

Being in its trance like form

Be there always overlapping visions

Let the night go on…

Let the waves of solitude regale

Be there always the old moon’s ale

May the actor always prevail…

Be there masks and more masks

I have to wear them all….

Let the night go on…

searching.....him...

They tie wishes to trees.....

Flags of good luck and desires

Colorful and fluttering in the Himalayan winds…

Oh the land of monastic yearnings and deep rooted passions

I seek thee…

I seek thee there….

I searched you long

I sought you in stories

Poems and songs

I sought you in the dark alleys of time

I sought you in the diamond mine

In the bazaars of Mathura

In the Kaashi of my soul

“Have you seen him ever?”

“Have you seen his golden shadow gliding by?”

“Did you catch the glimpse of the glistening sorrow in his eyes?”

I asked one I asked all…

“Have you seen him at all??”

He promised me to return…

He promised me the moon

The rainbow fabric and the deep blue lagoon…

 

 

The unsung melody...my reticent lover...

 

A simplistic verse, a word slipped out of emotion,

The unsung melody gifted these to me....

A sky painted with a defined blue,

Water with a greenish hue,

Petals of stars and flowers dipped in dew,

Is all the verse which i could give...

A string of couplets and pearls of joy,

Was his next gift,

A mountain painted grey,

Dawn breaking at day,

The purple of trees

And their rhythmic sway,

Was my reciprocative way....

Emeralds of "bandish",

Diamond dust of the "raagas",

The melody filled my soul...

An incomplete poem,

A few unshed tears,

A cup of our passion...

Was my parting gift...

To,

My unsung melody....