Tuesday, 9 August 2016

Essence

"Drink milk with kesar and haldi"
"Mix lemon juice, gram flour and fresh cream, apply that daily"
"why don't you try Fair and Lovely?"
"Bleach? give it a shot"
Some advised,

"You keep wandering all day...out in the sun, what else will happen?"
"Don't buy that red shade yaa...honestly, girls like you should steer clear of red lipsticks, "
"wear lighter colours, you know. They will suit you better."
Some criticized.

"Well, I don't mind dusky complexion"
"She is dark but pretty"
some complemented, but not without the special mention of her complexion.

"It's going to be pain to find a match for her"
"why you had to 'take' your father's colour."
sometimes even her folks commented.

But she always dealt with all those comments, criticisms and advises very gracefully, rather with a pleasant smile on her face.
The Smile of satisfaction,
Satisfaction of fusing... with a soul of Radha,
The soul which found the essence of Krishna...in her colour!!!



Sunday, 10 April 2016

Fantasy

"Are you sure, You want to do this?"
"Of course Yes! It's my idea after all."
"You don't have to attach ego to it han. It's perfectly okay if you want to back out at any point of time. Just let me know."
"Are you scared? Embarrassed? Disgusted?"
"No No. Chill. Nothing's like that. I just wanted to make sure that...you know...you are fine with it in reality."
She was excited. He was hesitant. With his questions, she became Antsy. 

***
They were on their honeymoon.
Arrange marriage. So first trip together.
Little of awkwardness, little of comfort. Little of nervousness and little of enthusiasm.
Though their courtship period was reasonably long, no amount of dating can replace a single trip together. You cannot really know a person unless you have traveled with them. 

Band darwajon ke pichhe se bhi bhala mausam ka andaja lagta hai kabhi.

***
Evening passed in exploring town. Entering into random temples. Eating golgappe and kulfi. Buying kanch ki chudiya and walking through the unknown, narrow lanes and thinking…

“How cute is he? I still can’t believe that he really agreed to this crazy idea I just blabbered without thinking. Oh my god, he must be judging me right? Why won’t he? I mean everybody has fantasies but Hello! No one reveals them and tries to execute them on their honeymoon. I made him get down the train at strange destination. Making him stay in here. With absolutely no practical plan. Am I asking too much out of him? Is he doing it against his will? So that I won’t feel sad OR just to impress me? But whatever it is… I am happy. Even if it is to impress me, he is ready to do crazy things with me. That’s what matters, right!”

“How cute is she. And god so adventurous. I mean where? Where would you find the girl who would take such risks? And the fact that she wants to do so with me…makes me feel so...Important. It made me feel like she trusts me. Little things, small gestures, matter. And it’s so awesome that she spoke her mind when I asked her about her fantasies. Well, it is little filmy and odd but she has guts to say it out loud is all what matters!”

As sun started to set, they headed towards their destination.

***
They entered in Anand Palace.

It was perfect… just like she wanted it to be.

Yellow light…scraped, dirty, hard to tell what was its original color – wallpaper and curtains, Still ashtray with ash in it in one corner…red coil under the bed… broken, trembling  table. Mosquitoes hovering around…smelly… water in the steel jar; which was looking like it must have been there for at least 4-5 years 
It was all…pathetically Dingy...shabby.

“Oh my god! What was I thinking? I mean fantasy apani jagah aur hygiene apni jagah. This is soo yukk and dirty. If it was situation based, sudden, without a choice then, it would have been okay. But who would want to do it here? Consciously? In this dirty place? On this creepy bed sheet?  Eew… what was that? I think something with tail just disappeared in the bathroom. Okay. I did not see this coming. I always thought that I want to do this. Wow! How do I say this to him?"

“aah! a bed Finally! and a not-so-stinky place to pee…cool. But why her face is sooo?”

He looked at her. She smiled uncomfortably.

***
He picked up the bag…held her hand and started walking away…
She was so relieved.
Before she could say anything, He started laughing 

She was embarrassed; he was amused. But in his laughs she found comfort.

***
All the romance that happened between them that night was sleeping in one shawl…at the railway station waiting room.

She missed the chance to tick off an item from her fantasy list and that too when she was so close. It was like when you have perfect frame, good light to click a picture but you don't have camera. And that pic stays just in your mid...
But she still woke up with a big smile on her face...because now she knew…that she was walking a road so picturesque that so many perfect frames were waiting for her! 




Thursday, 14 January 2016

Something His, something Hers

It's not working any more...They decided.
Separation was done already...inside... They felt.
It's easy to divide stuff...They thought.

They started with that black t-shirt...which was his at the end of the night, it was hers at the start of the day.

Mug, with the Madhubani painting...was his for morning tea...was hers for evening coffee.

That Pot of rose...Thorns belonged to him...roses... to her.

That Suramadani he got for her from Lucknow, surma belonged to her...Dreams in those eyes, to him.

That fruity shampoo she used to use for evening baths...foam belonged to her...fragrance of her wet hair...to him.

That Violin she got him as a birthday gift, Bow belonged to him...Every note that got played was only hers.

That Rajwadi payal of hers...Ghungru belonged to her... their melody...to him.

That miniature earthen pot they bought from some art festival which was used as an ash tray...half filled with her talk...half with his ash...

That wine glass...which was emptied by her...but which intoxicated him.

That diary of handmade papers...full of words...which were hers...Stories...which were about him.

Still they managed to divide it all... that mug, that violin...those dreams...those stories...

Only thing that was left...was rain...that was pouring...inside and outside...because those droplets,  that rhythm, those memories, that pain...belonged to both of them...jointly.