A Fairy-Tale

Once upon a time, in a land far-far away, the year seventeen eighteen
There lived a generous king with his beautiful queen
Far from happy, they were in great misery
Magic potions, spells and all kinds of devilry
They tried it all… to grow their fold
But the castle remained empty and cold
No sing song voices, no childish note
No little angel on whom to dote
The years passed by, they grew older
And the castle just got colder and colder

The good queen pleaded with her lord, to take another wife
A young lass to serve him, and birth a new life
A pretty little girl or a bonny lad
An heir to the fortune that they had
At last the good king did consent
The delighted queen searched for a young maid to ascend
A maid beautiful, clever, young and loyal
From whose womb would emerge a royal
She looked for bright eyes, a handsome figure, a rosy cheek
Fair hair, rounded arms… the very best breed
For should not the child be blessed beyond all dreams
Fortune, fame, blue blood and the very best genes
At last such a maid was found, not a moment was there to waste
Everything was prepared, the queen made great haste
And soon a blushing young bride was brought to the palace
By the king’s bedside she took her place

But Alas! Who can change what destiny had contrived
No news of the expected new soul arrived
The king grew dismal, their hopes grew dim
As it became clear that the fault lay with him
But then suddenly, lo and behold!
As it is custom for such events to unfold
When morale hit rock bottom, every hope was fleeing
The young lass complained of a “funny feeling”
News came of the Joy that grew in the inner courts
The mother-to-be was provided with all comforts
She was treated like queen to the great chagrin of the Queen
Who felt cheated out of her position, of adoration and of celebration
The palace was humming to some foreign tunes
She was anxiously waiting for that day to come soon
And that day did come, to everyone’s relief
When the light of the sun first illuminated the noble babe in her arms
The people of the land rejoiced. Their future now secured
His future tied up to the fate of their world
Cocooned in love, he was given all skills to succeed
Especially the ones he didn’t inherit by his half- common birth
To be noble and wise, courageous and kind

But the poor lass didn’t see it coming
Accustomed to comforts, importance and love
Once adored, she was now sent away to be forgotten
For sure, she was provided all comfort and style
A life of ease and plenty social discourse
But her foolish little heart now wanted more
Separated from the child, the heir to the throne
She was left alone in an empty home
No concerned voices, no fond caresses
Whiling her time, dreaming of that other Real
… And thus ends this tale, like most fairy-tales do
With memories of the golden time past
With reminiscence of grandness and pomp
With a haunting sense of self- delusion
Under the happy ending for all
A sad tale of a foolish person’s loss

Word Picture III : FIRE

A vision of myself burning
Trapped inside my own mind
In a world full of others’ happiness and satisfaction
I remain petrified, unable to move
Sweat dripping from my fiery brow
My externalities remain calm
Lulling me to a painful slumber
The brilliant light that shines no more
I remain frozen to the core
Watching with no tears in my shameless eyes
Watching everyone I love, gradually walk away
All memories fade into supreme oblivion
The salty air leaving its traces on my lips
Burning from head to soul
Without a friendly face
Without a soothing voice
Nowhere to reach
Nowhere I have to be

A Very Long Night

“You know we met in school. But It wasn’t like love at first sight”
Varsha rolled her eyes, making me smile. A smile shared by all the people seated on the table. We had heard this story a million times. Always the same words followed.
“We were friends for a couple of years when we suddenly realized we wanted more. It was quite confusing. But I guess it worked out in the end. It’s been four years and still going strong! Especially now that we’re in the same city.” Taking a breath, she looked up at him seated next to her, squeezing his arm affectionately.

Suddenly turning to her other side she said, “So Harsh, remind me, how did you meet Sunanda?” The last part was a surprise. Didn’t she know? Everyone knew, it wasn’t exactly a secret.

Instantly, Harsh looked at me, embarrassed. I caught his look, just before I lowered my eyes, examining my nails. It was a sticky topic. We never talked of it. But sometimes it became difficult to avoid such direct questions. I looked up at Varsha, looking expectantly at him.
Waiting for an answer.
Expecting a juicy story.
Everyone else did.
Waiting for him to begin.
Expecting him to be eager.
Everyone else was.

Then mercifully he started talking, breaking the awkward silence, perhaps awkward only for us.
Talking... it was one of the things he did well. But it was something we never did. Not about us.
He was uncharacteristically short. Perhaps no one noticed. I did. We exchanged glances.
“We met in college. She was two years my junior. I saw her, liked what I saw and it just happened.”

But she wasn’t satisfied.
“How sweet... must have been so romantic! And how long has it been?”, Varsha probed, feigning innocence.
“umm... About 7 years this April”, his reluctant reply, stealing a quick glance at me, my face now firmly turned away, blushing a little.
Looking intently at the potted plant.
Counting the petals on a flower.
Pretending to count.
Not wanting to meet his eyes. But wanting to hear what he was saying.
Struggling to keep my face neutral, with both embarrassment and curiosity threatening to reach it.

Varsha persisted, mistaking his silence for hesitation, or worse, deep emotion.
“Wow, SEVEN years, you guys must be serious! Are you planning on marriage? Do your parents know? My parents would kill me if they found out about Sahil”
“Well our parents know. But no plans as such, as of now... it’s really not such a big deal”, Harsh mumbled, gesturing to the waiter, attempting to cause a distraction in the questioning.
It didn’t work. Our inquisitive little busy- body Varsha demanded further details, “But she’s in Bombay now! Must be difficult for you both, long distance and all...”

I tuned out, turning to Gautam on my side, before she could turn on me. Gautam, a good friend I hadn’t seen in a while. We were very close in college, losing touch once we started jobs in different cities. Gesturing towards Varsha and grimacing, he asked “So Gauri, how is it going in Delhi? No one from our circle is there right? Must be boring! Except Harsh of course, do you get to meet him often?”

It was going to be a very long night.

Word Picture II : WATER

A Vision of myself floating
Floating in a vast sea
Surrounded by a clear deep blue
Lying on my back, carried by the waves
Discovering fantastic shapes in the clouds
The waters calmly undulating
Lulling me to a rhythmic sleep
The brilliant sun shining serenely over my head
Warming my soul, smiling on my face
Watching shadowy black specks circling far away
Watching the sky turn blue to red to velvety violet
Eyes searching beyond the skies, into infinite space
The salty air leaving its traces on my lips
Floating with supreme abandon
Without exhaustion. Effortlessly
Without a care in the world
Nowhere to reach
Nowhere I have to be

Word-Picture I : EARTH

A vision of myself running
Running along a narrow path
Hair flying behind me, moistened by the drizzle of rain
On my left, the fringes of a dark dense forest
On my right, plain fields as far as the eye can see.
Eyes focused on the far horizon where the path meets the sky
Deep blue clouds silent above my head
The salty air leaving its traces on my lips
The cold wind rushing past me in my ears
Blocking out every other sound except
My heart, beating faithfully
My feet keeping pace with this rhythm
My lungs hungrily expanding
Running with supreme abandon
Without exhaustion. Effortlessly
Without a care in the world
Nowhere to reach
Nowhere I have to be.

Kashmir

The deathly stillness that silences voice
The cruel crimson haze that blinds
The frigid cold that envelops hearts
The lethal bullets that take young lives

When you can’t hear with stony ears
When you can’t see the scarlet streams
When you can’t feel your brother’s pain
When you can’t value innocent lives

Then stones become voices
Then anger becomes reason
Then death becomes protest
Then the angry gun dictates lives

A celebration

At first, it’s awkward.
These are strangers after all.
Letting yourself go, shedding all inhibitions requires familiarity and trust
But perhaps the way to familiarize and gain trust is to let oneself go.
No time to think tonight, as the music starts pulsing
And despite myself, and my inhibitions, I feel myself begin to move
Surrounded by the beats and moving bodies
High on life, soaking in energy from this ancient ritual.
I begin to lose myself in this moment.
Nothing exists except this and now
A moment of pure bliss, stretched out to last a nighttime.
Names and faces blur as I find my rhythm,
As I match it to the one going around the room
A drink here, a drag there,
I finally begin to feel at ease.
I feel like I belong
Tonight there are no boys or girls,
there are no regional loyalties,
there are no friends and batch-mates,
Tonight there’s only a celebration.
A celebration of life,
A celebration of love,
A celebration of the spiritus mundi.
As tonight we are bound together by a single thread.