Friday, 15 July 2016

Purple September

Of all those memories which have merged with each other, of all the biting and loving recollections which flow to and away from me at will, there are only a very few which I'm able to bring back today with a smile. Like the recollection of the day I became subject of everyone’s immediate attention when my feelings for Isha became known in the class. I became like this image for everyone, one they liked to gaze at as I was moving around within its walls, across its desks and whiteboard, unable anymore to stay invisible. Like I'd become who I never was. That day hence, in a small way, few things changed in that packed room of twenty five dreamy boys and girls. 
But it's strange that the memory evokes even a semblance of happiness in me considering the events which led to its formation. 

I remember it happened on a Wednesday in September, in the eleventh grade. I would have never confessed. I would have continued to hide the burning embers of my longing heart had it not been for some momentary stupid lapse of judgment. This is how it happened.

Roy wanted to ask Isha out. There was nothing exceptional about that news. Every other day someone wanted to grab her attention. But this dude, well, I’d overheard his rather despicable goal behind asking her out and I couldn’t stop myself from requesting him to drop his plan. It was only a request. Ofcourse I didn’t halt him halfway or stand before him all chest swollen challenging him against his plans. God only knows how I mustered just enough voice to speak those seven words, without faltering. ’Do you really want to do this?’ I probed him just when he was ambling by my seat. Lucky, my seat fell on his way or else that Wednesday would have been no different than hundreds of others that followed or had passed before. And it travelled to the far and close corners and ears of the room like the scent of a freshly sprayed cologne, that I had a thing or two to do with Isha. The secret I never told them was it felt embarrassing to me, to be pitted against Roy. The comparison still makes me nauseous.

It got worse when she said ‘yes’. A heaviness from nowhere churned my insides. It could have pulled me down but I managed to stand on my feet through the girlish giggles and hooting and cheering. It was hard to say who all were happy and who wished a quick death of the venture.

‘Yes’ she slowly replied to his proposition and looked at me. An elated Roy looked at me too, with that clich├ęd grin. And I never looked at him that day hence. I tried not looking at Isha too but there I didn’t quite make it. I tried not looking at the road on which they cycled back home, him seeing her off as a ritual. I stayed away from the downtown cafeteria where they served my favourite Chinese because it became their hangout. I no more joined the weekend trips. I had no desire to see their blossoming fondness which they didn't hold back from each other by the lake side. High School was no more the same. I never had any hope with Isha to begin with. But now it was even worse because of Roy's arrival. He had turned into a permanent, irreplaceable figure around the only girl who had ever owned my thoughts. Several efforts later I managed to turn him inert. He no more tested my sanity. With careful calculation I even managed to save myself from his interactions with Isha on and off school.

On a mildly rainy Wednesday of another September, several years later, Roy once again came before me and exerted things he hadn't since all those years ago. He was in an exquisite tuxedo. God, he gave me an instant complex, burning the path with his suave walk and embracing a radiant purple bouquet of flowers close to his arms. I searched for an expected presence by those arms but I found it to be empty. The handsome classmate of mine from all those years ago still had the ability to hold everyone's attention. I must have seemed nervous. But all of it changed the moment he stepped on the podium, when Isha reappeared to my left and seized my palm; everything fell in place. 

Roy stretched his hand at me and said ‘Congratulations to the most amazing couple I know’. And the professional photographer quickly sprung to action to still our handshake and then he made us pose in all kinds of ways. He and me, three of us, him and her. I could see that a large number of heads had turned at us. There was no denying the gossip Roy's visit had managed to induce among the guests . But I was all smiles, the satisfaction of permanently having Isha by my side was evident in that smile. They say it never left my face that night. 
I didn’t realize when the replica of that grin had once again spread across my face as I was carefully fixing back the photographs in the respective slots of the album. Except the ones in which Isha in her bright bridal gown, me in a purple Sherwani and Roy were posing for the photographer with our hands intertwined and another one in which our heads were huddled and resting together. The voices and the scents of that evening came back to me like they had never left my consciousness.

I slid those two pictures in the envelope which I had to hand over to my lawyer the following morning. He had specifically asked me to get a few kinds of photographs the judgment of choosing which he'd left to me, asking me to keep in mind the circumstances. I selected these two because they had captured a reflection of bonding, of a deep and trust inspiring connection between the three of us. It was on the basis of those two pictures and other things that I'd share with him from the abyss of the bygone year that he was going to emphasize before the Court that the affair Isha and Roy had behind my back must shock everyone's conscience as the worst kind of betrayal. Ofcourse he'd assured me that it may not only expedite the divorce but it may even save me from the weight of alimony. The date on the Court’s summons gaining the fan's air to escape from under the translucent paper weight read ‘3rd Day of September, 2001’

Wednesday, 13 July 2016

An Ode To My Lighthouse

When I closed my eyes
And tried to push her away
Far into the blackness of memory
I saw for the first time
Why her I had chosen
She was infinite
Vastness was her name
And she was all over the heavens
She twinkled bright
Against my endless void
Like a sunrise past
A deafening storm
A lighthouse to my soul adrift
A hope that kept me afloat
She made me learn
Why at all men fall in love
And why from it they never return
In sickness or health
In pleasures or in sorrow
She may not be and
The world may not know of her
But she will be my mark
Even long after I'm gone
And my memory will never exist
Without her name in it
I opened my eyes and realized
There are somethings you can't outrun
Your love and your soulmate
And your vain dreams
Are often most of them

Monday, 11 July 2016


I love you when your scarlet lips pray                       
And your feather feet turn the fate of my way,
I love you when you carry the sky in your eyes
And bind the oceans in seraphic smile,
You're the moonlit verse which heavens wear
An ageless song that clouds shower.

I love you for amaranthine is your loveliness
Your arms a fragile haven for my slowing self
I love you when you kneel with kindness
And touch my barren soul's emptiness.

Friday, 8 July 2016

A Letter Never Sent

Dear D..,   

Whoever you are, however you are, you have become important to me and you have found a way to reach my heart and prayers. There is no social attachment that binds you and me. There is no religious or physiological bond between us as well. What I’m writing is something that would flow as a river, free from needs, wishes, desires and expectations. This is a river that is bound to connect our ends. You know why? Let me tell you.
You have been indeed lucky to find yourself the way to come into A...'s life. If his name makes you smile (as it made me while typing it) you are lucky. God has chosen you to love him, to be with him. Chances are that this letter may annoy you and you may get irritated as why I am writing to you. But when I explain the connection to you, things would be clear. And I hope forgiveness would be unnecessary. I hope you’d see beyond the things people may have us blinded with.

To me, loving him is a faith beyond the set norms of the world. In worldly eyes he and I have nothing in common, nothing at all. We are two separate individuals, but connected somehow by a powerful thread that makes me feel proud that I have been able to feel this way at all for anyone. Now, before you think anything or anything wrong at all, I want to clarify somethings. You are his life partner, his life in a way; I am his shadow, that doesn't abandon him, even in darkness. I’m there naturally. And even if this shadow may appear formidable to you, as shadows are created to, know that all shadows are harmless. They are just there because they can’t escape their source.

You, on the other hand are real for him, and hence he is attainable for you. You have the right to sit beside him, hold his hands, look into his eyes, caress his hair and love him, I lie like the cushion behind his back, soles under his feet to comfort him while he is loved by you. You make the morning tea for him, and I make sure the temperature is just right for his lips. You walk beside him, leaning on his shoulders, I run ahead of you both to remove any pebble or thorns that might stop your romantic walk together. When you make his bed for him, I would make sure he has peace in his eyes to enjoy it. I am not here to erect any walls between you and him, rather, my only wish is to see that our A.. is happy and peaceful.

Believe me when I say that you are equally important to me as he is. We have a very delicate relation to handle because he cannot live without his love and his life; we have to make sure he has both to live normally. You are very lucky because with you he chose to share his life and happiness; on the other hand I am happy to share his pain and sorrows. Now, you can also share is sorrows and pain, and it’s something a life partner does, but I want you to be always cheerful and happy and smiling, so that A..'s world is always happy and bright. I don’t think that is much to ask, when we both love and want the same thing, his happiness. I know it’s difficult to understand. You may hate me and my bold statement that I am in your husband's life. But believe me, I am not in his life. Truth is that I lay just inside his mind as a small tiny part that makes things beautiful for him. Yes, I have an individual life as well, that is made beautiful by his presence. I do not ask for time, love, money or anything else. Just a tiny little corner in his subconscious. I would live like I do not exist for both of you; all I need is the permission to love him. Because, the day I stop loving him, I would die. I beg this of you to consider. Let me be dirt under your feet, but let me be there so that with you I touch A... As you are in his life like a support, like a backbone, I am relaxed and not much worried about how he would eat, work, write and take care of himself. Because I know you are so capable in making him comfortable. He deserves to be treated with love, and believe me; he deserves so much love that only both of us can fulfill it. With all our differences and individual approaches, we make a perfect love and life for him to live. I hope you understand what my heart seeks. Maybe it’s too much to ask. Maybe it’s impossible. But if you love him like loving is meant to be done, then please allow me what I pray. Having lived with A.. for this long you must have felt that things are not going to be easy. But then they never are meant to be with someone like our A..'. He is a dreamer, he wants too many things and wants to make everyone and everything alright  and he has a heart of a child. Which is why we have a difficult task at hand. Let's make a promise to each other and live like we are not two but one person who cares deeply for the same man. A.. would be the happiest when we can achieve this.

I’ve seen you. And the way he describes you, I feel at peace because he has someone like you.

You won't lose anything to me, ever.


Wednesday, 6 July 2016


It is just the memory of how you were 
That I miss so much
That I'm in love with
One which you seem incapable
To ever again be
Let me hence pack the clock
And stay at where we said
'tomorrow will be better'
So that I may hold your hand again
And not face the misery of
Watching your face turn 
To things mere and small
So that I no more live
This terrible wait