" Muted Screams"

All we ever know is her muted screams

Perfect kohl always shimmers, but nobody seems.

The world does silence her.

But she speaks.

Screaming with those kohl rimmed eyes, her sighs,

The erratic gestures of her hand

The Subtle nods of her head

In her astute acceptance

And refined rejections

What are words to her?

But, only an ingredient in her meal.

" DEPARTURE" #2

Zoya sat silently on the kitchen counter gulping her tears down along with water. It was Sunday eve and time had passed quicker than the last. Was that even possible? She had to learn time first!!

Earlier she was in the yard, trying to be brave to go and meet Bheema, the ferocious bull that her grandma loved and all grandma loved she too loved blindly. She could see him there at the far corner of the shed. He was ginormous and was in brown colour and his horns, well that’s what scared her the most. She had heard stories of all the scars those horns had caused but never grandma, she did wonder why. Every time he would turn away, she would venture a step head but when he locked eyes with her, the horns always seemed so huge and it was like he was puffing out smoke from his nose, it was two steps back that instant. Literally she stood further back from her start. Too much of adventure had made her tired and thirsty. This has bought her to where she was now.

The kitchen, she had entered to find too many people cooking too many items of food, and many boxed and bags being packed. That usually didn’t happen till Sunday evening. The realization that Sunday had arrived, her legs gave away. So she was presently at the counter with a glass of water. But nani knew Zoya being quite means Zoya being mischievous or Zoya upset. A quick physical verification she understood that it was the later.  So she went to cheer up her little cub, shower her with love in the way she knew, finding out what she could feed her little cub. But before she reached, Zoya had gulped down all her water and rushed out.

Zoya had rushed out before her tears feel. She knew, Grandma thought Zoya was strong and she couldn’t cry in front her. When she returned after calming herself, found it already to be dinner time. She clung to her grandma while she was fed, while her grandma ate, while they watched tv, while she went to the bathroom. She was not allowed to go inside. But waited like a queen’s guard outside.

She knew that if she slept, she always woke up in her bed. She had already vowed not to sleep this time! Little did Zoya know, all woke up early to send of a sleeping Zoya for they couldn’t bear tears in her eyes. It was 10, already way past her bed time. She remained wide awake lying near her grandma playing with her bangles, she love the sound they made. Grandma light brushed her hair and kissed her forehead and asked Zoya’s choice of tale for the night. It was always the same, about Bheema, but this time she wanted to hear how he had hurt grandpa and how grandma had single handedly saved him!

She was fighting a losing battle against sleep, not even half the story over she was fast asleep. Only to wake up next day in her bed and chores being done to her.

 This is how little Zoya learnt, how not all departures are happy and how sometimes you don’t even get to say good bye and in spite of every Monday there comes a Friday following soon!

This was also the first step in life where she learnt acceptance. Acceptance that weekdays she has to do school and weekends she gets to escape to her grandma. Acceptance that no matter how much time she might get, it would never be enough with her grandma, and that sometimes all she could to hear was only half stories. Acceptance that her mother was the right, she does forget to put back toys! Acceptance that no matter she loves pinks, some days she had to wear blue and that was how our little Zoya was becoming wiser by the day!

" DEPARTURE" #1

It was a Friday and Zoya was pretty excited to go to school. The excitement was not about school but the departure that followed. Departure towards home. Home for her was her grandma. All she had to do was wake up, else her mother would shout at the top of her voice, no wonder the whole neighborhood knew her name! To protect her precious ears she got up.

She had practically to do nothing, all of her chores were done to her, as in, she was stripped, bathe, brushed, dried, dolled up with her plain blue uniform, which she always hated, her hair parted and tied into two perfect pony tails, her white socks and the worst was those dull boring black shoes which she dreaded. They made her feet smell and she did try to reason with her mother. She hated this, she hated that she couldn’t choose to keep her hair wild and free. She loved the way how her hair flew when she ran, like they were her personalized wings. The blue uniform gave her the blues, she adored baby pink.  It made her feel pretty.

She was wrapped up like a present ready for school and pushed to her spot light. The place where the bus picked her up. Before she reached her spot light, like an artist yet to perform she was showered with kisses. She never understood why people who loved her so much were ready to send her away and the worst MAKE HER WEAR THAT HIDEOUS UNIFORM.

But she was grown up and being wiser now, after all the fighting and the crying in vain, she had learnt who the boss of the house was, the hard way. It was always her mother, even though her father let her, have her way, he instantly jumped ships when he had to choose between her and mum. This made her angry. He always said she was his princess. Then how could he betray her?

All this forgotten as soon as she saw the face of her beloved friend and rushes towards the van, where her seat near the window had been reserved. After the short catch up with her friend, the loud singing at school, the boring alphabets, playing in the sand and just like that, another typical day at school was done.  

Like the first rains that arrives to quench the thirst of the dry soil, she rushed to shower everyone at home with her love. It was Friday eve, and this meant all was packed, all her favorite dresses and shoes in her beautiful pink bag. Like a bee, she rushed from car to home and home to car, untiringly verifying if all things are set perfect. She then got to remove that plain uniform with so much enthusiasm, such she felt like a mutiny was won. The joy was immense when she saw her darling dress waiting for her and rushed to wear it.

All was set for the journey, she occupied the back seat behind the captain’s place, that was her seat, made sure then don’t forget her. She had promised grandma to definitely arrive and she didn’t want to risk it. Her determination to go was, mightier than the Himalayas. While she was sitting determined here, the whole house was reshuffled for her, not unless her mother bellowed for her, that being how they found her.

As her father settled to take the wheel and mum beside him. She enthusiastically waved bye bye to her dogs, tiger and thunder, her house, her rose garden, her sugarcane plant now taller than her, waiting to ripen, and her kitchen set. She wondered how that got there. Then it struck her, she had played with it yesterday. Now she prayed hard that her mum doesn’t see it and promised she will remember to put it away as soon as she comes back.

She just wanted to escape now and if possible fly to her grandma that instant, but she had to wait for 5 hours. She knew not time but that’s what her mum told. That doesn’t mean she couldn’t enquire persistently about it till the destination was reached. She waved madly at people, saw the trees fly by, the sun paint his sky and was in immense need of candy, felt hungry, and the urgency to relieve herself. When her ship stopped for a break she rushed to mum and got her tummy emptied first and later filled.

The finishing touch was her candy, for her dad doesn’t share his candy. Candy with which he could blow clouds, she wanted to do that, but nada. In UKG now, she vowed one day she will. She got what she could, her candy, she then rushed to resume her seat and played the journey that was paused earlier.

LOVER

WRECKED!!

*COMFORT FOOD*

After a happening day at work during the journey homeward, you start contemplating is this all what your going do? Is this life to you? You are strained and drained. I suggest you don't just hug the bed. Instead listen to what I do and hopefully see my view.

On such days, I rush like a school girl in her early days, towards my own cocoon of comfort, I head. When I reach home its comfort food that’s decided. You see what comfort food a process of de-stress. Where you do what you do with such involvement that you forget the past and stop worrying about the future, you just live in the moment!

First I take attendance of all the ingredients present. I plant every step for efficient execution. I don't dilute this process with music, TV or talking to anyone at all. You see this is my space! I start simultaneously with boiling water and cutting veggies. You see Pasta and cranberry juice is my comfort food. Yes, you heard it right nothing like excess sugar and carbs to make a sad day better.

The pan is the stage where I make the veggie dance, till they are perfectly made!

The most important being the sauce, should be prepared in the same pan so that the essence is not lost. As I stir my sauce vigorously, I am at liberty to imagine my boss.

As all is over, you add the sauce, veggies and pasta and toss it together. I keep the flame low so that they don't go cold.

At that moment I rush to get refresh and excited return take a big bowl empty half pan and juice in other hand. I head towards my spot. My favourite spot between the TV and the window, the cozy chair with my blanket already there. I sit comfortably, and take the first bite and I relish the smoothness and crunchiness of the sauce and veggie along with the flavour of cranberries. Lost I am to the world.

With every other bit I take, my happiness awake, finished now, I fall on earth and break.

Sated I am. And remember all the calls to catch on and obligatory tales to perform.

I feel re-energize, ready to take on the world, now revived!

Listen here friends,

When you’re tired, exhausted, drained.

Don't just simply sit and blame.

Do something that ignites your flame!!!

" ME"

Born on a windy day,

I love the way, she messes my hair

To watch birds fly

Their grace, the ease and oh so high.

Born on warm night,

I choose the anxious heat over calm cold,

The warm hugs rather a cold stare

And hot coffee over cold anytime.

Born at the end of summer,

I love mangoes, melons and the mesmerizing nights

Filled with laughter and mischief

As we cousins unite.

Born before rains, you see

I love to cuddle by the window sill

To gaze as the drops dance for the beat

Of lighting and thunder and I wonder.. Something warm would be nice.

There is no explanation to this,

Being born is eligible enough, I guess

A bookworm I am.

The seasons change, everything re-arrange,

But a book always remains.