Tell Me No More of Enchanted Days

Zia heard the car honking from below. She peeped out and saw a white Maruti parked downstairs, a little away from the gate. This was him. It was still early, only 7 am. Hopefully, not many people would have come downstairs except for the uncles who needed their morning tea for their pressure building rituals.  She decided to avoid the risk and took the side stairs that lead straight into the tiny garden. Picking up her bag, she took one look in the mirror. Black top, black sweater, light blue jeans, boots, hair open, all good. The dachshund barked at her, but she ignored it. Quickly opening the back door of the car, she got in. Manu smiled at her nervously. She smiled, flushed with excitement. He came close to hug her, but she stopped him.  "Wait, let's get out of here first. " The car passed through the main gate decorated with orange flowers. Three uncles and two aunts sat under the red shamiyana tent, sipping tea and eating Marie biscuits.  Zia ducked down and covered

  The shadow of the moon Falls slowly, darkly,  On my pillow, where I hold It in my fingers as I clutch Its remains to illuminate  My dreams, these dreams these days That are cold and barren, ice capped Peaks I see, and empty, burnt down fields.  I try hard to capture what is it I feel,  I want to put down in words This nothingness that has so unexpectedly Become a part of me, that it astounds And liberates my soul. How strange it is To feel and yet not. I think of myself As a wall. I will not crumble anymore.  These are the secrets these walls hold Do we carry our secrets, or do Our secrets carry us? These burdens I have now released to lighten my load.  I can still hear the words unsaid,  They come to me when I lay down.  A whisper, a murmur, an apology,  Sometimes a cry for lust, pulling My hair, screaming out loud.  Don't do this, it says. Don't let me go.  But I have no choice anymore.  My wall wants to keep me alive.  Enough, it says. You've had enough.  Now come behi

  "Happy birthday my dear old friend! " "Thank you. How is it you never forget, year after year? " "You know me. I have the memory of a fucking elephant. Especially numbers of any kind. And of course, every other random thing in the world. Did you know there was this boy in my class in the first grade, and for some strange reason I remember his birthday too! " "Quite some memory. Lucky you! " "Lucky? More like a curse.  Tell me, what plans for today? " "Nothing much. It's a working day. Just order in some favouite food. " "What about going out with friends for dinner or drinks or dancing? " "Nah. I'm too old for that. " "Old? You and I are the same age. " "Yeah, but I don't drink anymore. I get acidity. Also heavy dinners outside don't suit my system." "Ha, ha, ha, ha... " "Why are you laughing? " "Do you remember how we used to finish a whole bot

  I.  The Earth Or the Sky?  Or in between,  Always in doubt.  Your country Or your home?  Knowing or Believing,  That here's Where you belong.  Some things Are meant To stay concealed.  Stay right where You are. When the war erupts,  You'll know Exactly Which side To choose.  II.  She has not Been touched By a man In years.  Her love Is her belief.  Her satisfaction Is her faith.  At night,  She looks up To Heaven,  Sounds escape From her mouth,  Like cathedral bells Pushed on At Dawn.  She wakes up,  Filled with  The seed  Of only her God and Saviour,  Her womb,  A drawing book Waiting To be sketched Upon  By her Lord.  III.  I cannot Understand  Women, He says, As he scratches His balls in frustration.  He cannot understand Why she has to Always complicate things.  Why does she cry?  What does she mean,  When she says, You just don't  Understand me At all.  He wishes he Could jump inside Her head and  Read her brain Like a coding manual.  But even then,  He would never C

Today, I had a memory Of you in a hairband,  And a maroon shirt.  I laughed and teased you,  And you smiled Your mischievous smile With your hidden eyes.  I said, 'But you know what,  It suits you so much,  Now that you have long hair.  All you need is a leather jacket,  And a bike with me behind,  One hand on your thigh,  And the other caressing Your neck as we recklessly Drive onto highways,  Leaving our broken cities behind. ' You said, 'Do you think I look sexy?  Would you really leave everything Behind for me and never regret it? ' I replied, 'You would look sexy Even if you had no hair.  But no, I don't sell so cheap,  Not for a colourful hairband.  Offer me a better deal. ' You pulled me close,  And whispered,  'Can I offer you my soul,  In return for a promise That you would always miss me? ' I sniggered,  'But my love,  I already own your soul,  Give me your hairband instead. ' I dug my face in your hair,  And smelled your sweat.  Th

I've had an unusual night. Apart from being sick and down with fever, I found myself unable to sleep. The cough and the chills kept my body awake. I've always found this time i. e. being sick to be a very powerful one.  It's like being in a battlefield. The body is weak and low on energy. It struggles and fights, like an insect that has been turned upside down. But the mind is fully awake. It is fighting its own battles. When one has fever, the mind will always be somewhere else, it will hallucinate, have visions, see and know things that it generally shuns away. Because the body is shutting down, the mind takes over.  Before sleeping, I was reading about 'power' and how everyone has a place where they feel most powerful. It is usually the place where you are the most authentic version of yourself, sans your layers. It also spoke about how when we die, this is the place where our souls will visit before we give up completely. We must let our power merge with the pla

  The game is over, my friend.  I have grown up, you see.  I don't want to find you Or try to cover my eyes,  As you mysteriously disappear.  This game was over  A long time ago.  Really? You don't love me?  Jeez, what happened to you?  Why so unromantic,  So broody and dull,  So pebbly poorly miserly?  Okay, here's the bandwagon,  The final confession,  Our duet to be sung,  When the audience is drunk And blind and pathetic,  So they will believe What you show them to be.  But not me, mister,  Sorry, but not me.  You are made of stone,  And I am flesh and bone.  I have a heart,  but you don't.  I am human, you are just dark,  Vapours and gas, no substance,  Cracking and broken and old.  Damn, even your light  Isn't really your own.  I'm so utterly sorry For glamourising you so.  You ain't even a star,  So don't throw those flowers Just yet. Your just a hang on the side.  A one plus two offer.  Buy one, get one free kind of deal.  You go where your maste

  A little girl came and sat next to me today. After a long time, I enjoyed having a conversation with someone. This is how it went: "I came to your house for trick or treating. " "Is it? " "Yes, don't you remember me? I remember you. " "Not really." "I was a strawberry. Now do you remember? " "Errmm. Not actually. But you are very cute. What's your name? " "It's Jiyana" "What does it mean? " "No meaning. I don't think I mean anything. " "Everybody means something. Jiya means heart. I suppose your name has something to do with a heart. Like heartful or good hearted. Are you good hearted? " "Yes, that I am. " "See, your parents chose the right name for you. " "What does your name mean? " "It means small. Though I'm not small in any way. I never really liked my name. Always wished my parents chose a different name. Like Tara or Nikita.

"Hi Tamanna. A very happy birthday to you. " Tamanna turned around to find Akash standing right behind her. How did he know it was her birthday today?  "Thanks Akash. How did you know that? " He looked her straight in the eye. She was unnerved again. The way he looked at her wasn't creepy, just that he hardly blinked. Something about his eyes held her on, almost as if she was hypnotised. She wanted to look away, but couldn't.  "You told me, remember? " She did not remember telling him anything.  "Did I? When?" He continued staring at her. Then he ran his fingers through his hair and started playing with the pearl ring on his little finger. So fidgety that it was annoying her.  "Two years ago. You had just joined the organization, I think. I had specifically asked you why you had said November was your favourite month and you said it was because you were born in November. " Tamanna could not recall having this conversation with A