It's Time

I noticed when she tiptoed into room,
Careful not to wake me up.
She had her hands full,
Two children, work and a husband to take care of.
I wasn't asleep,
She didn't notice my breathing was uneven.
I watched her go into the kitchen and eat a little.
Her left hand seemed itchy,
I knew the itching would start today.

Hence there was blueberry cheesecake in the fridge.
The bathroom was cleaned and the tabletops dusted.
The clothes washed and set out for the next day.
She loved the fact that whenever she checked her phone,
A text saying "I love you" waited for her.
Three personal words interspersed between
the millions of corporate words
she had to go through everyday.

At the end of the day, her hair still smelled like the start of it,
Little nooks and crannies on her body where my limbs fitted perfectly.
Changing into my t-shirts over sized for her,
She could fall asleep almost anywhere when tired.
I snuggled in beside her if there was room for me.
Or I would carry her to the bed.
We always woke up with our backs to each other.
She had a habit of finishing my cigarette after sex.

She didn't make the connection between
Her itchy left hand and the cheesecake.
Probably just assumed I was in a good mood;
I loved going that extra mile
And making sure she never knew I did.
Her smile said it all.
There was always her favourite music,
Books and food I blended in with mine.
I had no complaints about a gorgeous woman
hugging me and kissing me anytime.

I knew the itching would start today
So an extra mile had been added to the
daily extra mile.
We had seen a doctor about it months back.
He concluded it was some weird connection with her time of the month.

A memory from a trip to Kerala

I was molested once. It might not be the correct word to use here but I have no other words to relate the incident to.
It hasn't affected me in anyway in my life whatsoever and I had even forgotten that it ever happened.
Some days back, I was watching some movie which suddenly reminded me of the incident.
And I recall this book I read a few months back by Arundhati Roy called The God Of Small Things.
I wonder why that book didn't bring this memory back.
The book had an incident with one of the children Estha being molested by the "Orangedrink Lemondrink Man" at a movie theater when he steps out alone while on a trip with his family to watch "The Sound Of Music".
This particular section in the book should have brought back the memory but didn't quite stir the cerebral cortex. 

In a land far far away from the country I call home, half way around the world, trying to make it alone and watching some movie( I can't recall the name of ), the memory suddenly flashed in front of my eyes. The movie submerged into a colored daze and a handful of arbitrary noises while the memory floated by in front of my eyes after all these years. Either the movie stirred it somehow or it was just making space for new memories to settle in and I caught it unawares during its momentary dislodgement.

It happened in Kerala, God's Own Country.
(Hence I wonder more why The God Of Small Things wasn't able to stir it!)
I was in the seventh grade and on a typical loud Bengali vacation with my family and relatives and cousins.
We had a Tata Sumo booked for the trip. I don't remember much of my younger life, my memory is not that strong. So I don't quite remember what tourist attraction spots I visited, how the roads were, how the hotels we stayed in looked. I remember vendors selling tapioca chips, trying to eat chicken biryani with cashewnut, raisins, pineapples and ultimately giving up on the (very very)sweet rice and just having the chicken,a boat ride on the backwaters(more of black waters,we joked!), a visit to Munnar, Trivandrum but not many details about these visits.

All family trips like this one was all fun and frolic for us kids. Nothing to worry about, no homework to do, no tuitions to go to,eat, sleep, play, horse around-our glory days. 
What could possibly be wrong if there was no homework to do nor school to go to?

I don't even remember where it happened. We must have been on our way somewhere and had stopped for lunch.When we finished eating, all of us came out of the hotel. The hotel was on a meandering road on the hills and the car was kept just around a bend on the road a little way from the hotel and hence, just out of sight. Everyone had leisurely started back towards the car in groups of two or three. I was the last to finish lunch and went to wash my hands. My father was waiting for me. As soon as I finished washing my hands, we started towards the car; him walking a few paces ahead and me trudging along behind him. 

I strolled along the road, with a satisfied belly, towards the bend and the car just around it. There were a few other local people walking along the road too but as with roads on hills, it was mostly deserted. A tall dark man with a thick mustache in a red shirt  and black trousers, wearing glasses rounded the bend and came walking towards our direction on the same road. As he rounded the bend towards us, he crossed my father who disappeared around the bend. I trudged along. As the man reached me,  he suddenly reached out and grabbed my private parts with one hand and smacked my behind with the other, turning me around. He held on to my private parts for a few seconds before letting go and then gestured me rudely to get on my way with that "tch tch" noise a lot of people make in parts of India (when gesturing).
It all happened so fast I didn't realize what happened fully until I was back in the car. I just ran back to the car and remember asking for a "Frooti" to drink. It was when the car had started and we were again on our way that it all sunk in and of course, it was too late to do anything about it. I debated whether I should tell anyone about. I was the only brother-all my cousins and siblings are sisters so it seemed weird to talk about this in front of them. Someone cracked a joke and everyone laughed. The moment seemed to have passed. I decided not to tell anyone about it. There was no undoing it anyway. 

Right from childhood, I had been quite the introvert - less friends, less picnics, more of keeping to myself, studying, doing my homework and most importantly, not really talking to anyone much. The rebound of not talking to people much was that people didn't talk much to me-I seemed okay to everyone, because I did everything a normal and well-behaved child was supposed to do-eat,sleep, do homework, pack my bags for school next day-all on time apparently. And in the seventh grade, no one had questions about my personal life because I was too young to have one. So it was assumed I was okay. And I was okay. I was okay.

So I never told anyone that day, the next day or ever! I thought about the incident for a few days over the vacation and kept it to myself. It did not seem to be as important as having fun. It distracted me for a few seconds each day and I guess it bothered me for a few days. But with time, the incident became less important and the memory of it snuggled back into the deep recesses of the brain and remained lost till a few days back. 

Memories now will always be what you remember of them. The original whole memory with the details of the scenery, the particular feelings I had that day and the next few days, how it affected me, how it distracted me is mostly gone. I remember a gist of these details now and that's how each memory survives I guess; the brain edits it out the unimportant details from a memory and leaves you a link to relate to forever. You can make your way back to the details if you really think hard.

As stated before, the incident has had no effect on my life at all. I work my day job, I blog, I write poetry, I work out, I play instruments and compose music, I travel and get to do a lot of things, all of which could make many people jealous! I just did not have words for what happened back then. Now I do. And so when this memory popped up, I wrote it down.
What could possibly be wrong if there was no homework to do nor school to go to?

P.S. If I was Deadpool and told this story to my really hot girlfriend, I bet she would have said, " So you had a family huh?"

P.P.S. I wish I was Deadpool! 

   

'You don't remember what happened. What you remember becomes what happened. -John Green'

Early Morning Coffee

Last night I slid into darkness
Thinking about two of my friends
They've been together thirteen years
They make me feel like not myself.
When people meet,they laugh and share
Stories about maybe, their weekends?
When I make plans to meet these two
I homework lies for self defense.

Source: Google Images

This early morning coffee
Is a forecast for the day
It's a full house Oprah show
To decide who I am today.
Contemplation and information
Are the other ingredients
Besides the caffeine and the sugar
That decides if I'll be safe.

I'm not so sure, how it works
Being together,more than a few months
I lie confidently, and suck in more air
To compensate for the hollowness there.
Should I give it a try? should I let it be?
What kind of person am I looking for to date me?
This coffee gives me time, to think about my life
Should I strut singularity, or should I be with some guy?


This early morning coffee
Is a forecast for the day
It's a full house Oprah show
To decide who I am today.
Contemplation and information
Are the other ingredients
Besides the caffeine and the sugar
That decides if I'll be safe.

One last sip, and a trailing thought
Completely unrelated to how long term dating works.
I should buy that new dress I saw at the store
Maybe that will help me to fall in love some more.

Calcutta Sweetheart

A love story different from the ones seen on  TV,

Different from the ones read in books, 

Written by people with strange names living overseas,

One rising out of the pages of lost scrapbooks.

Yet, it sounds like all love stories when told years down the line,

At a gathering of friends, strangers or to your own child.

The details matter-the tiny, unabashed, gaping plot holes in the tale,

Similar to the potholes in the city on a rainy day.

You never know when you hit one on your way.

******************************************************************************

Dark rooms, black and white photographs.

Nightlife inundated in sepia.

A catcall, a whistle, a sudden rushing truck.

Paintings of people peering with their elongated eyes.

Religions, a thousand gods.

And a fervor to make the most of everyday.

Parks and buildings from an era gone,

Immortalized in the ways of the people themselves.

Every day is an ascension up the city's unending spiral stairs.

Every house is replete with songs by a one man army,

Every family in the city ripples with stories hidden away.

Every person is determined not to sell their soul for free.

Every creature matters; the pigeons and the dogs can tell a lot of tales.

Every taxi has all the colors of the rainbow within its yellow walls.

Every unknown place seems familiar within minutes.

Bits and pieces of an erratic history,
Bits and pieces of an urban mystery.
Every bit of what a city should be,
Every bit of what a city shouldn't be.

******************************************************************************

Amidst the rush, there's a boy and a girl.

They are sitting on a bench looking at each other, 

Unsure and hopeful at the same time,

Wondering about the other's opinion on first moves.

A tram trundles past, ringing its bells.

A rickshaw trundles past, ringing its bells.

A cycle wheels past, ringing its bells.

A school unites children with their parents, ringing its bells.

A man emerges from a narrow lane, squeezing his paunch through the tiny space.

He shoots a glance at the two, nods his head and goes his way.

An auto driver stops to check, he is need of a fare.

Two schoolgirls giggle loudly,openly pointing at them.

An unfinished poem, a movie ticket stub.

Holding hands when crossing the road .

The cars and the buses least bothered to stop at the red lights.

A little run,breathlessness and a mildly angry shout at the drivers.

A quick kiss, a stolen cigarette.

Sipping on one cold drink to beat the heat.

The long waits to eat at each others favorite restaurants.

A little walk in the night, breathlessness and incomprehensible knots in throats.

Winter morning Tibetan breakfasts, lunches from China,

Boat rides that were favorites amongst the English.

A secret shared, breathlessness and the wait of an eternity for acceptance.

Half a bottle of liquor,an honest confession.

Making excuses to stay out for five nights in a year.

The parents in the city all have degrees in nonchalance.

A proposal for them, breathlessness and another proposal kept away for the right moment.

******************************************************************************

An author's impression of a free city.

A musician's impression of his(/her) inspiration.

A dancer's impression of prevailing confusion.

A painter's impression of a secret affair.

Photo Source:Google Images

Yatra

My first attempt at Hindi poetry.
Be happy no matter what. Be happy with whatever you have. And if u want something wait for it, it will come to u in its own time.

Samay ke ek hi dor mein baandhey huey,
hum nikle they ek hi saath apne manzilo pe pohochne.
Samay ki dor thi ek,
par they hum alag samay kshetro se judey huey.

Ek pehchani si bechaini rahegi hamesha,
hum milenge kabhi ya nahi.
Par pohochenge apne manzilo pe zaroor,
khud ke alag kisso mein hi sahi.

***********************************************

Tumhare mere raastey alag alag rahenge hamesha,
par kabhi kabhi tumhare raaston pe mil sakte hai koi awara.

Chhupo na tum raasto ke in raahi se,
wo bhi chale hai dur tumhari hi tarah.

Pohochogey jab tum apni manzil par,
ho sakey miley na koi waha pe.
Mudd ke agar  dekho tab tum ,
dikhenge sab aur main, apne manzilo pe chamaktey sitarey.

I sometimes remember dreams

this one's written on evernote half asleep so excuse the grammar and the punctuation.

Haha..i had Such a nice fun dream. Me and two other friends sat down to watch game of thrones. As the show started we got pulled into the show in the tv. Inside the 3 of us randomly wandered off and got separated. And then all hell broke loose. I didn't know where they were and I got caught in d middle of a scuffle. Basic handfights over some shit. Someone pulled out a knife. It was that guy who was in mama too. Ned stark or something. N he fucking stabbed me. Nice clean wound.motherfucker. In the thigh. I broke out from the scuffle and tried to find the other two but couldn't. After some wandering around I learnt that they had died. So I had to now get out from the show. I got out somehow. And went home. Home was Kolkata home but It was placed in Aundh.I called up a friend to tell her that our two friends got lost and she was super happy about it. Everyone sed go stitch up the wound.some cousins were visiting and one of them was doing some weird tech shit which was a horror to watch. She was saying that she could make calls from a toy telephone by using her sim from her mobile phone. N I was thinking good god. N asked her to call her mom up who was a doc. I needed to know some meds for my wound. And lo and behold she made the call from the toy telephone. I was shocked. So I talked to my aunt who sed u shud apply some insect bite cream to where u got stabbed. I was like wtf. She sed yes. So I go downstairs and go out. On the way theres some kid who is playing cricket ALONE. I mean wtf. The little centipede child was hitting the ball and then running back and forth for ages ALONE. Meds shop was being run by some fat guy who found it extremely funny that I had gotten stabbed. He called up hs frends to tell them too and u guys appeared frm somewhere and laughed too. I laughed too. Then it started to rain and this girl came In. Some foreign chick off to Goa after charity work in Mother Teresa's home. And she was wow. Everything else faded. The meds shop guy...u guys all faded. Only ur laughter remained hanging in the air. And that goddamn centipede child who kept running from here to there. Dream end. 😃

Interwater

Something weird happened today.

I usually wake up at around 9-10 in the morning since I have second shift at office. But lately due to water crisis in Pune, I sometimes wake up pretty early; around 7-8 in the morning to make use of the water that the municipality supplies  just once in the morning. Taking a shower, washing clothes, utensils etc are all done then. After that there is no more water supply to Pune. So we have to store water for later use too. It's a lot of work.
But usually I am never awake before 8 AM.



Towards early morning the fan in my room started making noises erratically, disturbing my slumber erratically. Around 630 in the morning today the fan suddenly stopped. Just out of nowhere- STOP!!! I got up and checked the power... We had electricity. I turned on the light and tried to move the fan with a bottle. It wouldn't budge one bit. I tried to move it both directions but it was stuck and just made a loud electrical humming noise. I tried switching it off and on again to no avail. I turned it on and tried one last time with the bottle. Just as suddenly it has stopped, it started to move again and gained its momentum. By this time all my sleep was gone and I realized I was thirsty. So I moved towards the kitchen to drink some water.

That's when I heard it.

The sound of flowing water. Now water from the municipality starts being supplied around 6 AM. Pune was suffering from water crisis and someone had left the tap on in the bathroom and water was flowing away wasted to glory. Fortunately it wasn't turned open all the way so the flow wasn't strong. I turned it off and went back to my life.
_________________________________________________________________________________

There seemed to be a reason why the fan had stopped. It was so weird. It was a sign, a message to save and conserve water. In the most unimaginable way possible. But how did it happen?

I think the five dimensional sentient beings who know about water scarcity on Earth  in the future sent out  a strong gravitational wave to stop the fan(which, as is apparent from above,NEVER happens) for a few seconds wherein I got up and fidgeted with it and lost all my sleep. As soon as the gravitational wave passed, the fan started to move again but I was thirsty by then which led me towards the kitchen and led me to the realization that water was being wasted somewhere in the house and I should stop it. The gravitational wave lasted a few seconds but the future beings knew that I would complete the task with those few moments of inconvenience.

First Call

I made a call,
On a number that was fairly new to me.
I couldn't remember one digit each time I tried to remember it.
Had to look it up every time.

It rang several times,
Without an answer from her or anyone in her life.
Unanswered phone calls stir emotion too.
She could have been busy, she could have been not.
Maybe it was a moment of indecision on her part.
Maybe she was sleeping.

In the dead of the night,
Half dead from the weekdays
That keep coming and going like unwanted guests in my house.
Filled with deadlines that crush me like I'm deadwood.
Deadbolts to keep my mind in place,
Deadpan eyes, deadpan stares,
Deadhead alert! Clear the space!

Yet she didn't didn't clear the space in the presence of the deadhead.

Like everyone else, she fumbled.
Unlike everyone else, she didn't go her way.
I managed a smile, she managed one too.
We talked for a while till her friend arrived.
I gave her my business card.
She gave me hers too.

I made the call,
On a number that was fairly new to me.
I had memorized the curled font of  her number.
And I had almost memorized all the digits in it.

Muse

I am in a part of my mind
Which knows no restraints.
I can be anyone I want to be.
I can be uncontained.
I am insecure and flawed.
I am ice which can't be thawed.
I am a river gushing raw.
I am the flesh on which you have clawed.

Combinations you cannot decipher,
I am a secret that's lost.
I am hidden everywhere,
Even where our paths have never crossed.

I come out in the space
You've left for someone else
You stare at me in the strangest way
I stand my ground and take in your gaze.

Should I move?
No, Why should I?
Why should I move?
When my muse can be brought to life?

Happy New Year

Everyone's left when my back was turned.
Everyone's talking about me now.
I can hear their whispers faintly. 

There's faint laughter where there was silence.
There's now an edge to my bed.
I cannot see the bottom from the edge.

You've crept up from the dark
And asked me out twice already
I'm shapeless, I'm a circle.

Points of light point at me
Points you make point at doubts.
I had feet of lead in the mirror I was looking at.

Reboot the machine.
Make it rain.
Drain the water.
Make the sun shine.
If the clouds come again,
It will be new ones.

Fly away, to where you've asked me to go.
Fly away, till ignorance seeps in again.
Fly away.
Fly away. 

Be Quiet Now

The road splits three ways.
I'm on one,She's on one, 
There's silver lining on the third road.

The road I am on still has innocence.
You can see it flailing its arms at the travelers.


I can disappear. Completely,unobserved. 
But if I do I'll appear somewhere on the same road.
For the other two roads, I have to walk the distance.



There's a man who can talk to cats,
There's a boy who keeps disappearing;
Sometimes there's a girl in white with him when he reappears.
There's a man who keeps looking for a well and hums The Thieving Magpie.
There's a girl who stares at the mirror all day and murmurs, "How can that be me?"
There's one future, there's one past.
The present is a choice between too many worlds.


But I know She is on the third road.
But I want miracles from the silver-lined road.
But I want to watch these people on my road.

"Be Quiet, Be Quiet, Be Quiet now.
You're talking too much!
Maybe the miracle you wish for will be Her 
Maybe the miracle you wish for will be all these people
On the silver-lined road itself.
You need to be there to know." 
Whispered the eyes of the man and the woman from behind the fake trees.