It's not you. And I mean it.

My body cringes

When your fingers touch my arm,

When you run them along the length,

When you kiss my fingers

And bite them too.

You pull me close, whisper in my ears

There’s no other place I’d rather be

You look into my eyes,

Let us dance to the melody of Himeros

With every kiss, my lips smile

When you reach my neck,

My arms follow

Your touch is sweet,

And you caress my waist

A kiss on the neck,

Chin. Cheek. Nose. Lips. Tongue.

Legs around your waist, my hands find support around your neck

Head rests on the shoulder while you touch every part of me.

My lust consumes me,

Probably more than it should.

But how do I tell you,

That it's not you

Whose touch I crave.

Could She?

The world is discussing violence

It’s discussing nudity

It is also discussing obscenity, porn, women, and feminism

What it’s not discussing is how a woman feels about being discussed

Individuality is lost

In the mid of all the angst

Too many issues at hand

Too many people to discuss with

She sits in the corner and mourns

Her innocence shattered

Her patience tested

Her body conferred

Her opinions ignored

She sits in the corner and contemplates

Should she fight?

Should she let go?

Should she raise the voice?

Or all her thoughts she should forgo?

Question is,

Could she?

Why fight?

Now, more than ever.

I see your face, I drift away

I see a tomorrow

In the sea of thoughts, that’s a way

I see our lives, from the future that I borrow

I tremble when I walk

On me, your eyes stay

I stammer when I talk

To me, the attention that you pay

Into my eyes you gaze

With so much love and hope

And you’re lost in a maze

I feel I’m pulled by a rope

It’s overwhelming,

The level of satisfaction

It’s charming,

The amount of your affection

Strongest bond we redeem,

We are a team,

A distant world it seems,

Like a translucent dream

And I love you more

With every passing day

Than I did before

It’s what I’ll always say

I tried to live without you,

Tears fall from my eyes

For so many years, or so few

I told myself all the lies

It’s a starry night

When mysteries suddenly unravel

Hold on tight

While all of the fears dishevel

We’re gonna get through the storm

Because I cannot live alone forever

I need you in my dorm

Now, more than ever.

A story so common.

There wasn’t a waking moment when she forgot. Or forgave. The unexpectedness of his decision to leave her was what she couldn’t get over. No signs. No warnings. No hints. Nothing. Or if Rohit had been scattering them round, Aparna had completely missed them. Sure they had had their squabbles but she considered the stray storms perfectly normal.

For a person who didn’t forgive easily, she forgave everything where Rohit was concerned, leading to an establishment of pattern that suited them both. He erred – she forgave. It was taken for granted that all differences were to be settled in just one way – his. And each time they fought, it was Aparna who was left feeling rotten and vaguely guilty as though the whole thing was somehow her fault; that it was her intensity that came in the way and spoilt everything; that it was she who expected too much; demanded too much; that men weren’t supposed to be a hundred per cent honest or sincere; that it was unrealistic of her to hope that from Rohit. Wives, she often heard, were better off being somewhat indifferent. Husbands preferred to have an obsessive interest in their lives. Curiosity. Questions. Learn to overlook details, she was told. Don’t pry. Block out. Ignore. She’d tried. Trained herself to keep quiet even when it killed her.

One morning, Rohit asked for his usual coffee and while she showered, he casually packed. When she emerged from bathroom, she found him dressed and ready to leave. She towel dried herself and asked unsuspectingly, ‘going somewhere?’

‘Yes,’ he replied, lighting his ciggie.

‘You didn’t tell me. Baroda again?’ she continued.

‘Yes,’ he said coolly.

‘How long?’ she asked looking for something in her wardrobe to match her dress.

‘For good,’ he replied picking up his bag.

She turned out, jokingly threw her towel at him and continued, ‘Ha Ha! Like its that easy.’

‘It is,’ he said ducking. ‘Watch me while I leave.’

And with those words he’d picked up his Samsonite and walked out of her life. No explanations. No apologies.

Rohit was a selfish man. She knew that before they were married. Selfish and vain. But Aparna believed all the men to be the same. All the men she’d known were both selfish and vain. Including her handsome father. It wasn’t Rohit’s self absorption that bothered her as much as his ruthless streak. He had a grand design for his own life – people either fitted into it or didn’t.

Aparna still seethed when she recalled that horrifying moment. How foolish he’d made her feel. Oh God! How desperately small and foolish. Years later, she still didn’t know why or where she’d failed. Yes, the failure was hers. That’s what he’s managed to convey to her without saying a thing.

- Snapshots by Shobha De.

"True" love story.

Love Story: It’s definition (I googled) is “a tale of lovers”.

But, that’s not my concern. The idea for this blog randomly struck my mind when I saw the words “true love story” and it got me wondering. True love story, as such, has no definition.

Who decides though? Which love story is true and which is untrue? Romeo & Juliet, Cleopatra & Mark Antony , Laila & Majnu, Salim & Anarkali and some more tragic love stories are few that are considered to be ‘true’.  The stories with sad endings. And then there are movies depicting the unconditional love between a couple where one partner is diagnosed with some terminal disease eventually or the ship they are travelling in hits an ice berg and sinks.

As much as I love sappy sad stories, I hate how our notion of true love stories has now become the very idea of someone sacrificing their life either waiting for ‘the one’ or devoting their life to a dying loved one.

"True love stories never have endings."

And then there are these quotations which frame such very notion of true love in our brains.

Whatever happened to our childhood when true love meant our parents fighting ever second day and then making up to each other the next? The constant nagging and arguments followed by “ladte wo hi hain jo pyaar karte hain”. Rather, our grandparents. The time when the women in the house wore a pallu over their head and had meek expressions with eyes that never met their husband’s (atleast when they were not alone). That was also love, true one for that matter but only in a way now alien to us.

Fortunately, I haven’t seen the tragic ones around me. But when I see an old couple walking together at a market or a mall, I look at them and think that is true love. I see my parents, and there I see true love. I see my friends who sometimes fall out of relationships but I know their love was true, only it just didn’t work out. Because sometimes it’s not meant to work out. And sometimes, true love stories do end.

It was always her.

She woke up to her phone ringing.
"Hello", she muttered in her sleepy voice.
"Hi, you sound so cute. I just called you to apologize for last night and wish you morning."
"Morning", she replied with a smile on her face. "Let me get up and give you a call back?" she asked.
"Sure babe. I'll be waiting", Jay replied.

She dragged herself out of her comfortable bed and walked to the restroom. She started brushing her teeth.
"Hmm, that wasn't so bad. Maybe I can get used to this." She smiled again. After freshening up, she went to the kitchen. Caffeine was desperately needed. She decided that she'll call him later. There were other important things she had to care of before talking to him that day. She needed to think about what had happened the last night, and exactly why.

Jay and Aria had been dating for a few months now. Their's was a relationship that grew out of new friendship, they had known each other a few months before they decided they both liked each other. It was going great, until last night. Last night, they had their first real fight.
Jay was a sincere guy. He knew he wanted to be with Aria from the day he had met her. No one had understood him the way she had. No one ever will, was what he always believed. Aria, on the other hand, was a carefree girl. She wasn't used to giving much heed to emotions and feelings. She took everything as it came to her. She was smart enough to expect the least out of people, to not put her faith in anyone. She started dating Jay because she liked him just the same. He made her happy. She was reluctant initially, thinking that Jay was too sweet to handle someone like her. She was too strong with her ideals and her rules. But she still went ahead with it.
Yesterday's fight was about her insecurities, her expectations which had started to rise without her acknowledging them. It was a silly reason though. He had apologized and he tried to reason with her. In her heart, she knew he was right but she was hurt. She didn't understand why. And she ended up being really pissed, more at herself than at him. She tried real hard, but she couldn't keep the thought out of her mind that maybe it was a mistake, her relationship. Maybe they were not ready. Maybe he was not able to handle. Or maybe, it was her. She was unable to handle all the emotions and she was caught in the turmoil. She wasn't used to expecting anything at all from anyone but now she was expecting, and getting disappointed. But it was noone's fault for her expectations were unrealistic and she knew it. All the anger was hurting her from the inside and she had no one to go to. That's why she ended up fighting with him.


Caffeine helped her think straight. She needed to figure how to make things right. Reflecting upon everything that had happened last night, that she said and whatever he had explained, she finally accepted that she was very wrong. She needed to let a lot of things go and get used to being disappointed a few times here and there. After all, he had a life of his own and he won't do everything according to her. That's why she's always hated being involved with someone, she wanted things her own way and when that didn't happen, she used to get pissed. But the way he had handled her anger last night, the way he had tried to make her understand, she knew noone else would have done that.
Maybe it was never him or anyone. She was highly wrong in thinking that he won't be able to handle her in a relationship. It was her. Always have been.
She was not able to handle herself like that, like the way being with Jay was changing her. Yesterday was not about disappointment, it was about facing the reality.