You are heavier

You are heavier (having eaten), pressing on my thighs, warming my womb from the outside; not so long ago it was yours—warming you. Your legs flailing, on either side, the constant rubbing of love; bent over old soft paper you design your world. The dark dense downy barbs on your head that always smell  ... Continue Reading →

Signs – Part 1

I felt a pressure on my waist for a fraction of a second – just four fingers pressing gently against my blouse. It is a sensitive spot. I quickly turned around with a tiny shriek, to find no one there. My 22-month-old was at my feet, playing with plastic cups and steel tumblers; my husband,... Continue Reading →

Dark fingers

Rubbing, I remember, your fingers, as you watched cricket, to see if the dark came off you (hoping it may come off me too). Heaviness, I remember, of your arms that I placed upon my thighs while I examined your fingers, my fingers. Knobby joints, I remember, from injuries from fighting giants (or was it... Continue Reading →

Goodbye (Part 2)

Click here for Part 1. It was a chemical reaction--an effervescent response to the idea that happiness could be distributed over the counter. Aren’t they marvellous? Marketing people-- who study humanity’s weaknesses with microscopic precision taking apart every decision made with free will knowing fully well that there was no free will to begin with,... Continue Reading →

Goodbye (Part 1)

The familiar aluminium pressure cooker screaming in one, two and three whistles so that the neighbour knows that we are having rice again today for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Steamed grains or batter in one-portion moulds to accompany spicy traditions of chutneys stews lentils vegetable curries yoghurt. I remember twisting my face and knotting my... Continue Reading →

Losing temper

I. I will always take offence, as though its taking is my right, in that one word I seek I believe to be the Rosetta Stone of your understanding of me. You should have never spoken.   II. But I don’t know what You had said for the fog to close in. It was white.... Continue Reading →

A Vicious Cycle

I tried my best to get out of the way Of his anger that was taught to be love, But the blows did not stop coming that day. The moment struck me--jolted me to say That he had gone too far. I was being tough, And it was my best try yet. "Get away From... Continue Reading →

Hammerblows by Mr. Pink, The Husband (#9)

Air travel doesn't scare me. I am rather used to it. But I always feel a little trepidation while take off and landing. After that I am as comfortable as a cat in a cradle. Mr. Pink is totally fearless. All he worries about when taking a flight is leg-room. Ah! The worries of tall... Continue Reading →

Hammerblows by Mr. Pink, The Husband (#8)

I am addicted to the money sinkholes that are Toiletries. I love buying creams, shampoos, oils, masks and such. Do I need them? I swear to you I do. Mr. Pink, on the other hand, doesn't think so. He thinks I buy these myriad products because I am a victim of 'marketing' and have read... Continue Reading →

Hammerblows by Mr. Pink, The Husband (#7)

Mr. Pink and I make sure we hug often but not so often that people think we are conjoined. One Champions League evening Mr. Pink was less attentive than usual. I corner him in the kitchen and asked him for a 'proper' hug. He gives me a nice warm hug. It's so peaceful and I... Continue Reading →

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