Surrender

A broken strap, 

She holds her breasts back.

Boys check her like a meat

Though she gets back to the beat.



Running late for Work

She jumps onto the first bus

Heels waking up the office

She trembles to the notice

Walking sideways 

Avoiding occupied bays

She acted like a Novice.


Eyes rummaging her sanctity,

Was it her number or singularity?

Walking into that cabin,

She heard herself shuddering.

Of Colleagues, Seniors & House Keeping

She hunted for that perfect hiding.

She ruffled her fears & made the noise

People called it Impatience', she called it Voice.

Her neat notes, her loyalty

Her presentations maintained anonymity,

Her hardships turned pale

Fake concern in charity?

Day 2 of her life:

Waiting by the bus stop

She brushes her nails

Sharpens them actually

Hair untucked to neckline,

Bag transferred to front,

She chooses a darker Subway.

A day older,

She thinks she's smarter,

Finding a Blouse that's looser

She pushes the Red lipstick to last drawer...

Walking by the widest street

She decodes the reality,

It's neither her degree

Nor the sanity

It's not even her spirits

Never her popularity

Her existence was the trigger

Her curls, her blusher

She understood her waters

Indeed,

It is the shirt that matters.

- A Girl at Work

Karma Tonic: Chapter 39: That Word

Theory of head that turns mute

Whistle that sounds futile

Wind turns thin, recorded docile

Weight on toes, words are stuck

A push from the gut,

Why don’t you just duck?

Pay me some crumbs; I’ll lend you the word

Story in a pot, head to swirl

Dynamics of business, you sound so nerd

Hands fall in pocket,

Eventually,

Where’s that word?

A Story: Take Me Home,Bounty Roads

“I was dead, then alive. 

Weeping, then laughing. 

The power of love came into me, and I became fierce like a lion, 

then tender like the evening star.”  

- Rumi

Four months at NCC Camp, was an exile chosen by her, away from home, in the freezing Delhi Military Area, turned her pale to yellow & callow life. A 13-year old: face that looked Chinese, forehead that looked like grafted from a man, she was returning home after a prideful journey of defense life. The most infamous talkative, turned silent, as if waiting for the storm. Train was rumbling faster to hit at the scheduled time, noisier to shake the anxious guts, while limbo followed everyone's faces. Her face too was getting ridiculous and threatening, as the train moved further.

The fellow cadets were hugging each other, marking sweet goodbyes, exchanging souvenirs and making promises to meet again. But she was lost in her own world, as if someone held her soul and she’s just hanging onto the clutch. She got up suddenly and walked towards the door. She seemed like she was in her deepest slumber, as she footed on the train's door. Few assumed that she'd slip, others watched out of eagerness with a fear that she'd jump. The wind moved swiftly, following and foreseeing the tracks, she stared intently at the missing poles, as if they said something, each time she passed. The train wheels switched the tracks, giving a slight goose pinch to the crowd. The fellow mates got tensed, few called out her name, though nobody dared to come close to her. The train had already entered the junction yet to slow down. The instructor, still tied up with his mind, whether, to rush or hush others, looks bewilderingly unclear. Casting the die, a moment next, avoiding the stiffened circle around him, the instructor hurried towards the door to get hold of the girl. The frantic steps froze when he realised that the girl had already jumped off the train. 

“I want you always to remember me. Will you remember that I existed, and that I stood next to you here like this?” 

The appalled faces, let out themselves from windows and doors, in fear and disgust. Few ran to the door, few screamed vaguely. Most of them looked like they lost their toes during sleep.The girl's body was loosely hanging there. She was hanging in her father’s neck, hugging and kissing him, crying and hugging back. It looked like a valley of heaven, a grandeur of love, as if they were meeting after many worlds and oceans had walked past them!

Jo bhi pyaar se mila, hum ussi ke ho liye

Karma Tonic: Chapter 25: Madari

A familiar voice …

With a ‘Whoosh’ added, it’s Him! Every time his epiglottis opens to pass a sound, a light passes too! A light that speaks, that shows, Faith. The trust-versed has roped in a bond that’s unique, love is quite obvious, without failure requests to smile a bit, a bit more, a wider one, and wider than ever. Each jump, each move and each step that is celebrated with dance and scream is mark of promises. Tiny glitter in the eyes will give him strength & confidence in you. And the heart spells

Is this a dream?

Are You?

Sharing is equal, so is bonding. The applause is shaking; the tears roll with joy & anticipation. The hand slightly moves above the tummy, reaches out the heart and asks the heart to stay ‘Still’, as the thumping soaked in joy might be heard by someone. The applause inside the heart might become public. And, with a bare spam of seconds, a thump changes the tone, to rashes and then howls, as the rope that was a bond has turned into a bound. The hands that were held in love are now dragging his trust with pebbles and thorns all over. The faith that had a name is now Nameless! After all, he is the ‘Madari’ (Conjurer).

main jamboora re

Karma Tonic: Chapter 18: Ten Years in a Window

Ten years gone, with one train, and one life,

I still remember the days of anonymity,

When the stars appeared from the same window,

The sun smiled from behind the lil hills,

The lil hills that were covered with bright greens,

The bright greens that sprouted on tress, fields & bushes,

I felt the fields called my name,

I felt that the humanity hello-ed me,

My childhood danced to the miracles of this lil window

This lil window that hung to this ever-so-long train,

From where, I could see hay-huts,

Huts, with presence of life,

Huts that flickered in ambered oil lamps,

The amber flashed hope,

The amber that almost expanded in every 10 meters,

The amber that smiled in the entire village.

As each village passed,

I could almost feel a warm eye-contact,

With every amber-filtered hut dwellers,

I was thrilled, and the train’s whistle added to my stature,

My stature of thoughts,

I was thrilled,

I was smiling,

And the window halted,

I knew it was the train,

Well the belief said it was the window,

As if I sailed with the window frame,

There was no other world beyond this window,

This is the same window that acquainted me to hope,

The same window that played me a company,

A company of green-ness,

A company of severeal amber-lit huts,

I was filled, I felt complete.

As I have grown old,

I have seen this thrill and joy breaking,

Letting the bushes pass,

Letting the river flow underneath,

Watching the bleak fields,

I raised my eyes to the sky,

The sky that was hidden,

Hidden with the rubber rim of my window,

The sun that burnt passed the two layers of the same window,

And made me pull the curtain down,

Halt the show that played along ten years,

With the disappearance of anonymous figures all the way long,

The train no more whistles,

Or maybe I can’t hear it no more,

The amber-ness of the huts have turned silver,

It hurts my eyes, it hurts my hope,

Bah, the days have gone, ten years have gone,

Greens and hills have gone,

And the window just throws me back in a reflection!

Karma Tonic: Chapter 15: Story of Window

Caught the moonlight that bled through the corner of my window

While, I often sleep to the turmoil of my cringe

Aah, and the little oomphs, the groans

That disturbs the one sleeping next window

But when I say, ‘Oh David, don’t you worry

This cold world is not for you

So rest your head upon me

I have strength to carry you’,

David says, ‘I am already a character in Lazarus, don’t steal me!’

I insist, I Say

That I’d catch the moonlight that bled through the corner of my window

I'd steal the smile for the night

The dreams that hung with a desire

The dreams that hung with a hope

Though the older ones passes and breaks

But I still have the soul to catch

The moonlight that bled through the corner of my window

Oh, the chill passed,

Oh, the breeze caressed

And I caught the last beam

And slept to the coldness of world

Follow me Down

Karma Tonic: Chapter 10: Grassland

and heaven can weight!

A little girl finds her long lost parents waiting for her in a grassland. Grassland that’s vast, grassland that’s dry as gold,  grassland that’s soft as cotton loaves, grassland that’s going to be her most cherished place from now on! She’d have anytime hated to come there, but then the glimpse of her parents widened her eyes, created a thrust in her scream and made her run like a kite across the field. She could see a beautiful pair walking into her, smiling mysteriously, holding a tiny bowl. The girl ran and caught the bowl, found a pink little fish sailing and swimming in her own space, passing squeaks while looking into curious eyes of the little soul outside the bowl. The girl’s heart then filled with tears, tears that marked the joy of meeting her parents, tears that flew never before, tears that told her tale of loneliness for plenty many years without them, tears that said ‘I won't roll down for anything now', and hugged her daddy’s neck like she’d leave never again!

Yes, heaven can wait, because heaven is right here in the grassland!

Karma Tonic: Chapter 9: A Morning Dream

I often get up in the morning, think of something nice and pretty, cross my fingers, clench my eyes and go back to sleep!
Why?
Mom says, 'a morning dream isn't a dream, it is a reality rain check to your future'
aye aye morning!

Karma Tonic: Chapter 8: Best Friends/Bushes in me

bushes in me

The roads are noisy, but the rains were noisier,

And I found my way in my flip flops sleeker & sloppier.

But not to worry about the splash, as I knew an umbrella man,

He often walks in with a cloak that never drains,

And I know he’d lend me today.

The doors will open in the neighbourhood,

And I’d be safe and sound with all that warmth & care,

Till he comes down and breaks the shutter to carry me!

Oh look he's coming, and he's wearing the magnificent cloak!
Though in a moment I could smell something familiar,
It was her again.
She came over me and held my hand, and kicked my butt.

She allowed that scream to flow across me,

The noise of my soul that was stuck in the lung,

The guts of my life that hid deep down.

As I stood stagnant & stronger than ever,

While we walked like our childhood rains,

Oh Mother, look, there waves the umbrella man!

Karma tonic: Chapter 7: Limbo

So when the best friends say, ‘Dunno bout others, but I love ya loads’, we are not taking homosexuality into consideration. She might even snuggle in her phone to make me feel complete and centered, but I know that the corners are shady and the corners are calling.

How a young woman reaches out to her dreams, by simply believing in what people advice. But should dreams be followed with an advice?

How a young dream turns into a screeching nightmare, and all that's left is a fear to lose. Awaited is the moment to get rid of this fear.

How the treacherous fate falls with shallow noise and harder pain, crack opens another hope, every end of the night.

So what, if the night was darker?

It rained today and I had the fleet of buzzing dragonflies filling in the loneliness of my balcony. The rains makes me cry at times. The strength and the coercion with each drop makes me go through my fury, my pain, my helplessness and my dream, as it breaks, by every end of the night.

That bordered, shadowed limbo, laughs at me within the eerie howls of hounds, as I wait for life to give it back to him!

Karma Tonic: Chapter 4: Emptiness in Blood

Wandering alone

Blood relations matter when the relatives respect the blood and protect the same from dripping off the nerves. An illusion that he or she is happy, an illusion of those who have lost it; but I know that I am humane. No point creating truth less ideals because, each time I come in contact with the real, they are bruised and wounded, while the one left and accused is the one ALONE.

Yes, my book carries this page too. She’d beg, borrow, steal, trick, and bribe LOVE, but eventually it’s all begged, borrowed, stolen, tricked, bribed, that stays away like sea waves. They’d touch you, they may also carry you but eventually they’ll throw you back to the shore. It was a massacre that shook their lives up for years and years, loosing her parents in a fraction of seconds. She howled to the sky, she tore the books that posed poems on happy lives; she unsubscribed the channels that would spoof on a family guy, she hated the sound of music, but eventually fell back. Why? EMPTINESS! She tried to make a beautiful life, took an idea from a Hindi-atypical family drama and tried weaving a row of smiles. But like I said, she could beg, borrow, steal, trick, bribe LOVE, but can’t have it forever. That’s why, the ones who give birth are called PARENTS, and the remaining formers and forwards are called Blood Relatives.

Karma Tonic: Chapter 3: Kitchen

“Something inside me had dropped away, and nothing came in to fill the empty cavern. There was an abnormal lightness to my body, and sounds had a hollow echo to them.” 
— Haruki Murakami

A girl, a daughter, grows in her parent’s house, with a crown of princess and a sound of free will. She’s monitored till she’s safe, she’s loved till she faints and she’s pampered till she sleeps. Why this treatment for a daughter? Maybe, because they know that eventually she won’t get any of this, once she marries up to another house. Or maybe, because she can’t stay with them forever, so they live a jillion and quick life with her. They eat like starving souls, what she cooks, they dive on the floor that she swept, they ogle at her drawings, and they sleep likes babies on the sheets she weaved. Why? Are they insane? Or we are dealing here with cogent love?

She goes to another house, could be anyone: In-laws, Siblings, External Relatives, life starts acting unnatural. From pamper to meal, sleep and most importantly, love, everything becomes synthetic, rolled and covered to magnitude of society’s claws.

What’s the basic claw?

You are a girl, a grilling human, who is supposed to live as per the demands and moods of people around her. So what, if you are earning your own cents and cooking your own meal, cook for everyone else! “It should taste exactly like I have been eating, not a pinch of salt hither-thither, not a lump of cheese bothered, exactly the way I desire.” These kinds of tantrums are not just thrown by the in-laws or husbands, sometimes; it could be one of your own pseudo blood relations. Look at an instance, where an only son of a mother gets married and suddenly finds everything cooked by his mommy tasteless. His cribs turn into screams in the house, his gratefulness becomes his awfulness. He doesn’t show up on breakfast and dinner table, when his wife is not around, he works extra hours to avoid mommy talks, and eats thanklessly, to her evergreen love.

It’s never the same for every woman. I am not saying that men are mean, it’s the society. The same girl who grows to parents’ pamper, when exposed to another girl, doesn’t deliver the same. Why not? What is so dead in them? I believe, I took a hectic moment to decide the title of this post, whom to blame, whom to change?

A human life takes diversions: from birth to death they need a litmus test to measure their insanity. They need to keep chewing that ever-lasting gum, wondering when the bubble erupts.

Karma tonic: Chapter 1: Nazrein

karma tonic

When it comes to eavesdropping, eaves-hitting, eaves-ranting or eves-staring for no reason, Delhi is unbeatable! Climb a Delhi metro, and the trail is endless. Me being quite conscious about someone even passing a glance, often tend to take a corner most pillar, be it ladies coach or a common one. Since, it rained today, the ladies in the town were all frilled in funky-gaudy shades. It usually happens among the women, that they often find the next lady dressed either better or worse than hers’, the comparison, admiration and envy are just there in their minds and that I could see in almost every face in the coach. Nine stations and I was still stuck between a long-legged hottie and a fatso tummy blocking my way for some air, while I was trying my level best to breath and inhale the perfumes around and ignore the stinks of whatnots. Thank goodness for my little player playing me 'Stephanie says' - the velvet underground, and I could stay away from the all those mini burps, clenched farts and endless gossips.

But no wonder, I'd love to have these rides, they made me laugh!

It all took place in a fraction of seconds, as my eye hit a young girl dressed in the worst of a dis fashioned jeans, a not-so-wannabe tee top and kitos that were probably pulled out from a 100 buck weekend sale. She looked quite ugly to me with her pimpled-spotted cheeks and messy curls that stunk of coconut oil. I hated to look at her. Nothing attractive! Hence, I changed my back to a better sight. Pushed by another set of ladies at next station, I was compelled to peer at the young girl again. Made me realize in a bit, that she did had beautiful pair of light brown eyes, which made me a lot of sense as I carried on with her expressions. She was looking at me, and others, and a pretty chic who managed a gutsy bag and whatnot accessories. This young girl seemed to be appalled or amazed at this pretty chic, which she kept staring with constant consciousness of getting caught over her helplessness to stare at her. I sensed a creepy feeling all over my skin (like a centipede crawling on my ankle), as I realized that she did have a reason to uncontrollably stare at the pretty things around her. Her toes were backing in embarrassment and maybe family bounds, as she kept checking her own costume, her little plastic bag stuffed with a cheap umbrella and a trigonometry tuition book. I could hear her screaming down her energy in a lonely corner of a jungle with a noisy river flowing next to her. She wanted to be like them all!