Desert Rose

The sight of a board that says "Waiting Room" mostly gives me a headache. Does that happen to you? The long lines at the billing counter, a delayed slot at the doctor's appointment, the wait for your order in a restaurant (the worst kind) and what not.  Well, for that matter, when I was in labor, the duty doctor told me to hold a bit as she wanted me to "wait for my doctor". Neil was born five minutes later !<Yes, thankfully my doc made it too> So yea, waiting is always tough! I'm sure majority of us felt all this and yet, now we are all waiting. Some to cross borders and meet their loved ones ; Some to get started with that job that they were supposed to join; Some to write those exams once and for all and get done with it;  Some to exit life situations that they now realize is no more than a suffocating hole; Some to finally start doing that thing they've been putting off forever; And all of us to just be able to step o...

She woke up every morning convincing herself that it is a good time to be. After all, most things come to her doorstep without her having to go out and get exhausted; There was enough content to watch on digital platforms – so much that she spent more time on the decision than actually watching; Education was taking interesting turns with alternative learning systems to beat the conventional ones – so now we’d see more kids on the block who crack life better than we did apparently; Innovation in design and technology blew her mind with every aspect of daily life getting so much easier; Equality, empowerment, tolerance and what not – everything is in the air or at least on social media; Medicine is developing at a good pace to deal with all the increasing sickness in this world; Mental health is being taken seriously and therapists are all over the place - so obviously happier people with sorted life; People are making conscious shifts to organic products, sustainab...

The dream catcher slowly shifting. The curtain slightly swaying. The night sky all lit yet dark. You are the silent type. Aren’t you? The thoughts in my head. The memories from all around. The dreams in all its glory and power. I am not too silent. Am I? So why don’t you speak too. Or even shout. It just takes a thunder or a storm after all. In that kind of night, you can dissolve my voice. And then maybe we can have a dance.

It was my turn to move away from home. It was time for me, like they say, to go behind my dreams. And I was sure. My entire world was sure that my father would not deal with it well. I knew he wouldn’t wave goodbye without shedding some tears - joyous and anxious. (Somewhere I was proud of it. Proud of being his girl with whom he cannot stay.) And finally that day arrived for me to fly out and as I walked away, I noticed something was different. He didn’t shed tears and his look told me a thousand things that I couldn’t then perceive. Everyone around including my mother said he had prepared himself well for this change and was strong. But somewhere behind my mind that image remained. Tiny details but the most important things seemed different whenever I went home. He didn’t play his usual doze of morning music which was like an energizer to wake up for us all our life. There were not many evenings where movies were discussed to tiny details. Those evening walks where keeping up w...

If you can see her for all that she is, every bad decision wrapped in pretty skin. If you can see her fears trembling in her palms, And long to kiss away the pain they cause. If you can relate to all the moments she roared gracefully, and the ones where she stumbled back to reality. If you can look at her scarred soul, and crave a taste of life she’s been dying in. If she looks like heartbreak wrapped up in a smile, and you’ve never wanted disaster in your life so badly. If like her, for you too, ‘happily ever after’ doesn’t mean a perfectly told story, but falling in love with delicious chaos that is life. If you are the kind who admire the gentle breeze, the baleful wind and the storm alike. Then maybe there’s a chance at a true sort of love where ruins are more beautiful than the flesh above.

I thought your heart leaked love;  when did venom turn out to be so intoxicating. So extremely alluring;  yet unexplainably excruciating. It was in your lips; soft yet evil, conquering my soul. It was in your touch; hidden beautifully in that romance. Like a beautiful thing it came; Then a sense of falling and an eventual cease. I am free now.

It was all about order then; But she doesn’t know until when. When did that pull towards love and chaos take over? Or maybe was chaos always the constant? Her world now moved too fast. She missed the shades of each sunset;  She no longer felt her toes kissing the earth beneath. It was no more about order; But chaos. It was like being the moon afraid of the vast sky; but loving the way it held the stars. She yearned for peace from all this mayhem. But she didn’t realise that she invited it; Because she was too wild to feel alive when at peace. To be reckless; To consume. To be wild ; To be her. Chaos was its own kind of beautiful.

They wrote love letters like bed time stories and stacked them.  Those stacks. Reminders to never forget. They swam in a sea of open ended sentences.  Sentences punctuated with her scent. But did she know then, that the gravity of loneliness smelled the same as well. Broke. They rebuilt. Broke again. The 'lost cause' wrapped in 'remember when ' and 'what could have been' ;  all in an 'if only things were different'. And she's lost. Dizzy. Lost on that less traveled road.  He was like a December. Serene. He was the morning cool.  And she no less than a fool for mistaking glass for the openness ;  mistaking the calm for content. To awaken the lost, silent dreams ; wanting to gather hope and spirit ; those stacks found a place elsewhere ;  those bed time stories were put to sleep. Forever. 

Sometimes, the color of life confuses me.  Sometimes life looks black and other times red, like a deep wound. About the color of life, I wonder. It was a fine day. He thought the day would be white – easy, happy and bright. But the call from his love around noon changed the shades of white to more of black and red. She had called him up to say that she was having second thoughts about their relationship. He wasn’t sure if in that precise moment it felt like life took a black or red shade. Why now? Why did she have to tell me now that I purchased such an expensive ring to bind our future together?  He remembered the day they first met. There was not a cloud in the sky. He thought of that as a good omen. But his friend thought it would have been better if it rained when I first met her – the shower being the giver of a brand new life.  He so much wanted that life - rain or shine. He thought of begging her to reconsider?  They spoke. And the ro...

If I believed in magic that’s what I would tell you writing is. 

 Yesterday, on my way to my native, I received an image from my friend and on seeing it on my drop-down notifications, I figured it was a picture of something that she’d written. Even before opening and reading it, I got reminded of a phase where she used to write way more than me and did it well. And the more attractive factor for me, was her ease to write in her mother tongue which still remains a task in my case. As I thought, I realized that I haven’t read much of her writings ever since we left school and there I was - quite a frequent blogger! I read what she wrote. I knew what she meant. Obviously being my closest, I could relate to whatever she was trying to portray. And it got me thinking. The firing of specific synapses;  The chemical cascade that transmutes the scent of a particular perfume into a short story; The fall leaves into rhyming poetry; Your brutal breakup into a n...

Sleep, baby ; Your eyes will soon be heavied by burdens of this world.  A world which will soon be yours too.  Rest your gentle head upon the soft pillow ;  It is time to drift away from days where,  all decisions are made with a teddy bear. Sleep, baby ;  Your ears need not hear the hate tearing the future.  A world which will soon be yours too.  Let dreams be the reason to your perfect smile as you slip off to sleep.  Enjoy the night;  Live in bliss a while before this world becomes yours. Sleep, baby ;  Your mouth need not taste all the bitterness around.  A world which will soon be yours too.  Discover dreamland awaiting you across the sea ;  R eliving all the fun you had.  Ignorance is bliss but that will be just till the fresh slap of intelligence. Sleep, baby ;  Your nose need not smell the foul smell of rotten intention.  A world which will soon be...

I sat alone, apart from my own twin that we all carry in our heads; alone in the corner being able to observe everyone in the cafe.  Wooden floor boards & wall panels with simply deep quotations & abstract framed art work.  Too much of calm inside that compensates for all the rush outside.  I sat in my corner, reading over tea & waiting for my cake. Other guests came in, sometimes alone & sometimes not ; some of them knew each other while some did not. I tried to make friendly eye contact so I could initiate a smile that might start a ‘good evening to you’ or a ‘hello’. Mostly their eyes would avoid mine while they sorted out where they were going to sit & what they were going to order & of course replying to texts in between all this. Now they had no reason to say ‘good evening’ because to say it then would have been out of place, the meeting having already occurred some minutes earlier. So, no gestures or smiles of acknowledgeme...