Rusks ... stickjaws .... fresh noodles....

Suddenly, am remembering all the food I had ...
The fresh noodles cooked to perfection ...
Poha made the chinese way....
Pitaji wali daal ...black masoor dal ...
The dalia he loved....
His shaving kit ....
The booklet he gave me .... still in my safekeeping ...
Of yesteryears ...
Of a family ....
The Garden of Eden ...
Sahestradhara ...
The Kadhi Chawal at the Shiv Temple on the way to Mussourie .....
Ellora's bakery at Rajpur Road ...
The Rusks and Stickjaws...
The Tibetan Monastry ...
The hailstorm in June ...
My son dancing in the rain in the lush green garden ....
Our vegetablewala ....
The neighbours...
The golden Oldies who visited ...
The swing in the porch ....
The way Thunder escorted every Tom, Dick and Harry into our home ...
The way Thunder chased the cows ...
The eunuchs who visited us ....
The singing sessions...
The breakfast, lunch and dinner rituals....
The evenings in the front garden ....
Tea time ritual in the early mornings with Rusks to accompany ...
The Old Grandma in law ...
A Ma in law ... stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea....
Her Ma in law and her daughter in law ....
Comedy when you remember ....
Stress when you empathise with her
Just everything ... Yet nothing.
A bygone era ...
A life well lived .....
Only memories to keep company ....
Maybe someday will tell my Grandchildren....
If I don't live  ...
The blogpost will tell them of a family they had.

Dasvidaniya ....

Phir milenge ... Bye for now ...
We really need to relook into this matter ..
We can't go on believing in a Utopia ....
A make believe world ...
There are realities to face....
Some real ones ...
That can affect the future too.
Know for sure ...
Matters of the heart remain always ...
But reality is reality ...
And, we need to face it.

Better late than never....
Prevention is better than cure.
Dasvidaniya for now ....
The world is round ...
Galileo proved it ....
So we may meet again ...
In better times ...
Maybe by that time you would be rid of......
The pest in your life.
Use every pest control method available ....
They are effective.

Dasvidaniya ...

EGGACTLY .....

It's so sad ....

It's so sad ...
People have to stay up all night ...
Twiddling their fingers ....
Checking my blogposts ...
So much insecurity ..
That they need to post old photos of yesteryears...
To try and believe ...
That all is well ....
All isn't well Darling ...
Your paradise is lost forever.....
It never existed ....
Except in your imagination ....
Otherwise you would never have slit your wrists.

No, the used doll is of no use to me ....
I use and throw sanitary pads....
So that women like you who can't afford such luxuries can have them.

The combo is good ....
Black and white ....
That's why combos are always cheap ....
Perfect example of Mac Donald's combos ...
Or free meals....
For the hungry and famished.

Frustrated woman ...
Desperate woman for men ...
Not knowing anything but how to please them with orgies.
That's what brings a smile on his face for you ...
Else, follow him someday.....
And you will know his real intentions....
One day the papers will arrive ...
And, you shall have no choice but to sign them.

When you call and he says ...
"I am in a meeting"...
Know well.... He is mating.
That's his modus operandi ...
His usual dialogue ...
When he is in another woman's arms ....
Satisfying his sexual urges ...
Urges you can never fulfill ...
Coz' you are black ...
And, he hates the colour BLACK....
You are the cause of all his miseries ...
You started it all ....
How can he forgive you ...
He is biding his time ...
When the time is right ...
He will strike ...
And, all your stars will fall from the sky ..
Your cracked world will come crashing down.

It;s so sad ....
You are so delusional ...
Go, take some psychiatric help ...
Before you slit that wrist again.

Sad, but the ultimate truth woman ....
Get a hold on yourself ....
Stop conning yourself ...
The way you conned me ....
You will get nowhere ...
This is a mirage ...
There is nothing there for you ....
Move on before it is too late ...
Before you lose yourself ...
And, your illegitimate child.

You and your illegitimate girl.....
Are a blotch to his family name ...
You will never be wholeheartedly welcome ....
Face REALITY ...
He is Mammas Boy...
Before it is too late.
Sad Truth ... you know it ...
But, don't want to face it.

It's so sad....
You have ruined your life ...
Now, you are ruining the life of the ...
ILLEGITIMATE ONE ....
She will always be pointed at ....
His family and his society ....
Will never accept her ...
She will be made aware ....
That she is different and doesn't belong.

The illegitimate one ....
Will never belong.
Sad ... but the truth.

Weakness ...

Remember .... You said it and sent me this song ..... I play it always .....

WEAKNESS

I am but an expression ....

I am but an expression of my thoughts....
I am but an expression of my emotions ....
I am but an expression of my feelings ...
I am but an expression of the Universe ....
The Universe that conspires ....
To bring what you desire with a pure heart always.

I am but an expression through my art ...
I am an expression through my words ...
Words that speak of my life's experiences ....
I do not conform to the rituals of a fake society ...
Living on borrowed time ....
I live life on my terms...
And an expression of freedom of speech ....
My birthright ....
No one can take that from me.

I am but an expression of myself.

History repeats itself .....

The World is round ...
What goes around ...
Comes around ...
History will repeat itself ...
At that time ...
You shall remember me ....
You shall seek me out ....
Then there won't be looking back ....
But a sly smile ...
Reminding you ...
YOU HAVE A DAUGHTER TOO....
She would be a woman some day ..
There would be men like you then too ...
How will you protect her ...
From your karmas ...
Your sin today ....
Shall be her CURSE tomorrow.

HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF.

Empty Cradle ...

The Cradle lies empty today ...
Mocking me at my tomfoolery .....
It can never be occupied ...
For the occupant lies buried deep....
In the sands of time ...
In mud and dirt below....
In the hell created by his Sire.

The Cradle .... empty ... deploringly empty ....
Cursing the moment ... their eyes met ...
The Cradle .... a reminder ....
Never to love again.

How many more Cradles lie empty elsewhere?
How many more hearts broken?
How many trusts shaken?
How many faiths cracked?
How many more infidels roaming the streets?
The empty cradle here and everywhere else....
Speak of stories of broken trust.