He once told me that I smelled like that flower,
sweet and pleasant.
That is what attracted him
to me.
He told me my lips
were rouge like the petals,
soft to kiss
and touch,
always leaving them abloom.
He gazed deeply into my eyes
to pronounce that
they were dark brown like the pollens
and that I was petite much like the green stem.
Once, he had come across a meadow of flowers
along the placid lake.
The petals on the flowers fluttered gracefully,
much like my hair, he said.
He plucked one from the rest
and inhaled the fragrance deeply.
He brushed his fingers along the smooth petals
and tucked the flower inside the jacket,
near his heart.
The flower stayed,
crushed,
in the jacket for days,
as he travelled along the edges of the mountains
and remote valleys.
Later he found a field of daffodils,
and plucked one up.
Aromatic, he said.
He took out the wilted flower
to place the daffodil inside the jacket,
near his heart.
Maybe the scent of the flower
was too sweet for him.
Chapter 4 : On the other side of departure
I went to the airport today
to bid a friend adieu
who was off to her next adventure.
I walked step by step
besides her,
wondering how it would feel
to have
a trolley full of bags,
headphones strung around the neck,
wollen sweats,
eyes full of excitement,
adrenaline rush coursing through the veins,
a skip in the step,
the passport in the hand
waiting for it to be filled up
once more,
the tight hugs of the parents,
a thousand promises to the friends
to bring back goodies
& stories
of people and places,
& to feel the hush in the air
for another goal
was about to be ticked off.
Then I looked up at the board,
the board of flights
to
Abu Dhabi, London,
Seoul, Melbourne,
Singapore
and various other names.
My friend gave us a fleeting glance
as she entered the gate,
the gate of her aspirations.
I stood on the other side
ardently wishing
to be able to walk
those few footsteps
towards the gate
one day
because
the flights on the board,
were my flights.
The flights to my dreams.
Chapter 3 : Self Love
I look at myself and see a body,
Too fat, bulging chest,
Big at the hips, flabby arms,
Love handles,
Acne scars across the cheek,
Tiny hair over the lips,and between the bushy brows,
Round cheeks, button nose,
Scanty hair, brown lips, bitten nails,
Thighs kissing one another,
Sagging calves.
And that’s the reason
I hide myself in those baggy clothes
And look down whenever someone walks by.
I don’t love myself, do I?
Someone looked at me & said
I wish I could be like you
And I thought, I wish I could be like you.
Maybe that’s the reason..
I doubt myself, my thighs, my calves, my body.
Too large, too skinny,
Too tall, too tiny.
Who set the standards of beauty
Was it the creator or the society?
Who defined flaws?
The universe or the laws?
Because
Why would I want to be like some one when we were all different.
So the next time I look at them,
All that I will see would be our distinctiveness.
I’ll think about how my body
is one in a million.
Acne scars, thin hair, wide hips,
Which is what makes me perfect.
Chapter 2 : An epiphany
I looked up at him
for the happiness
that the’d given me.
I closed my eyes &
sensed his gaze upon me.
I felt a surge of emotions suddenly.
Within that moment,
I could hear the cacophony
of birds,
the whispers of the wind
as they blew the thin strands of my hair
across my face.
The leaves rustled
and flew blithely
in the icy winter air.
The burbling sound of water
and the sweet notes
of a mother’s lullaby,
as the child slept peacefully,
dreaming about the
wonders of the world.
The hair across my arms
stood up.
I folded my palms
as I thanked him,
the God,
for the gift of life.
Chapter 1 : An hour at the beach
Its 6:20pm and the sky turned
Light grey at the horizon
With a tinge of violet and orange
Pale blue above
Its 6:22pm and the grey
Gradually dominates the colours
Reflecting on the sea
Dull
Depressed
The water washes over
The footprints of the new lovers
Imprinted on the sands of time
Makes me wonder
How many dreams have the sands seen
And then the water washed them away
“Would you like some peanuts?”,
The man in the turban asks me.
Calloused hand, shirt in rags
Wrinkled face with worried eyebrows
Smiling down at me
Blinking quickly
In my hoarse voice, I
Ask for some for 10
And take the cone of peanuts
With my quivering hands
As the man limped off to another customer
Near the water
And the tide swept his footprints away
Its 6:45 now
The dark hues of violet, blue and grey
All over the sky
The peanuts remain forgotten in the sand
Tears rolling down my cheeks
My hands clenched
Tightly
Around me
Would the sea wash me away too
If I take a step or two
My phone goes off
Its mother, concerned
Asking me where I was
Taking a deep breathe in, I tell her
I’ll come home in a while
But will I?
I get up and take one step towards the water
And stare at the reflection anxiously
Something glimmers
Its 7:20
And I look up
At the darkness
But the stars wink at me
As if to goad me while
Listening to my dreams
The crescent smiles down at me
As I stand there still and think
The water cannot reach the stars
And I smile a watery smile
I turn around
And take the second step back home.
Foreword
It is always so fun starting something new
You feel the adrenaline rush and yet you feel blue
You keep your mind positive and yet your heart feels heavy
The undiscovered territory is a bit scary
You procrastinate thinking its not the right time
Not today? Then tomorrow? Who gives a dime?
You think of taking the step with some motivation
But then down comes all the frustration
Will he like it? Will she commend me?
Shall I just write it anonymously?
You watch, you learn
Yet someone’s validation is your concern
Shall I post about books? Or my thought?
Travels? Lifestyle? Faith? Clarity is what is being sought.
Nevertheless, you do write something down
It is not the best nor a letdown
You hit the publish button and its up!
The story has begun, as you gulp
You decide to figure things out steadily
As people open the book, heartily!