December 28, 2013 § 9 Comments
THE IMPERFECT GODDESS
I met a goddess when I went walking around today. I saw her sitting all pensive and looking at people around her with sadness. I asked her why. She said she didn’t want to be a goddess anymore. It was too much responsibility.
I asked her about the fun she would have with so many people worshiping her. Didn’t it give her a high to have people revere her?
She scoffed at me and said no one asked her before making her a goddess. No one asked her if she ever wanted to sin but just repeated that she was pure. She wanted love and passion, all she got was piety
She said she was tired of the bells in her temple. Because they awakened her from her slumber and she liked to sleep late in the morning. But the people, they came calling with a prayer on their lips.
No one came and told her about their escapades. They always came and told her how sad they were that they had sinned. They did not know how lucky they were to lead a normal life.
She wished she hid behind a tree holding hands with someone and felt the nervousness of first love. She wished she could dress up and try to be herself.
All she got was shiny trashy tacky garb every festival, so not her style. But then goddesses have an image to upkeep she was told. She wished she could take a hammer and break that image along with the priest’s head who looked at her curves with lust when he thought no one was looking.
She told me she didn’t want flowers at her feet or marigold garlands around her neck. She wanted a bed of jasmine and roses and she wanted to lay there with someone. That was the worship she wanted.
Then she giggled and said she wouldn’t mind her toes being sucked. She had heard it was a new age sexy thing. Better than worshippers falling at her feet.
I was running late so she told me that maybe some other day she could tell the world about the fantasies in her head. Till then I could tell the world that she was an imperfect goddess.
(goddess name withheld on request)
About the author:
Tanzila is this amazing person i know from Twitter. We share a lot more than our ideologies when we talk. Not only is she an amazing poetess and writer, she has the best food sense!
You’ll fall in love with her works. Go read ’em here.
December 27, 2013 § 9 Comments
So I turned ninety two today. God, that’s a lot of age in one life no?
I finally feel old and tired and worn out. Finally. It has more to do with the things inside my head, than my physical body.
I’ve always known that I’m not just my body. That I’m much more than that. Call it my soul, aatma or the life force; I have been able to distinguish it from this stale and decaying body.
Sure I had my phases like every other human being, where all my knowledge went down the drain. But overall, I knew myself while I was still alive.
Call it His Grace, or my karma but I saw all that I had to see. From a loving marriage to children who worshipped me. From amazing grandchildren to beautiful great grandchildren. What else would someone want? I think I’ve had a fulfilling life. The kind where I was content, deep down. Where I loved and I was loved. Where I always felt secure and comfortable.
Phew! Ninety two is not just a number. It’s a long life.
And I’m only glad I lived it the best I could.
P.S. I recently lost my grandmother. She was turning 92 today, on the 27th of December. Had she been alive, she’d have probably been feeling this. Or something close to this.
I was technically married to her. Love makes you do crazy things!
December 19, 2013 § 4 Comments
December 18, 2013 § 3 Comments
Etched in Aeons
In life, we always find that one person; who makes that moment of discovery seem like
a dream. They are like the surreal aspect of our forbidden dreams come to life. The
moment they enter our realm, they spread their surreality into every aspect of our
We have seen them. We have known them from eons; from the beginning of time. We
have touched them with our dream fingers. We have laid bare our souls to them already;
in an inexplicable realm of which we were the masters. We created them for ourselves in
moments, wherein we thought that we were destined to die alone. We invoked them in
rituals of our carnal fantasies. We have already slept a hundred nights in their arms and
have woken up on their spectral kisses. We have spent a million tender and vulnerable
moments with them already.
It has become hard to pinpoint that dividing line between them and reality. It has
become hard to tell whether we created them in a magical bout of imagination or they
came as an idea destined to strike us. It is nearly impossible to delineate whether we
morphed them according to our whims or we metamorphosed according to them; to
Lines smudged a long time back.
We committed ourselves to the fantasy and damned ourselves to a long phase of
hermit-like searching until we realized the futility of it all. We, then, pulled ourselves
together and consoled ourselves that such people only existed in fantasies…
Until they walk into our real lives; in flesh and blood, better than we sculpted them in
What, then, can be done?
I could not decide. I was transfixed, looking at him with a mindfloating upon
numbness like a water-baby.
He was sitting alone on a table; with a half-finished sandwich, coffee mug and an
open pocket-diary. He was bent over his laptop, his long fingers flying over the
I stood upon the threshold of disbelief and panic. Already vulnerable to him.
Defenceless. Thrilled and flabbergasted altogether. I wanted to run away. I wanted
to run to him. I wanted to brand him with a kiss. I wanted to hide. In a bout of
seemingly sane self-defense, I even wanted to kill him.
It was at this moment when, prompted by something palpable but unseen, he raised
his eyes to look at me. And smiled a knowing smile. As if he had been waiting too. As
if he knew we will meet.
It was at this moment that all avenues of escape closed faster than they’d
And I was lost.
About the Author:
Mohita is a wonderful person I know from Twitter. She writes stuff that you ave to read more than once, so you can grasp it. So you can absorb it.
Read her blog here. I insist.
December 16, 2013 § 1 Comment
We use to get along use to see each other, feed each other
now we trying to defeat each other
Use to envision you being my kids mother
it ain’t even the same when we greet each other
Can’t even look me in my eyes when we see each other
you got so much pride but you’ll soon discover
You messed up a good thing, u was my heart string
a new life with my new life is down the drain
I put u on a pedestal I never did with a girl,
I’d move the move the moon just to give you the world
About the Author:
Brandon Grimes is a free-lance writer and avid poetry fanatic. He writes short stories, poems, top 10 posts for various niche industries across the country.
December 5, 2013 § 4 Comments
They were in his car, kissing. It was a late August evening. They’d managed to find a secluded place in the otherwise crowded city. Somewhere they could express what was bursting inside them, in the form of hormones or love.
“Do you have any idea what are we doing?”, she asked him as he kissed her nape.
He looked into her eyes and said, “No, but I’m going with the flow. Do you want me to go with the flow?”
That very instant the radio played a Pink Floyd melody.
The next moment, she got naked.
December 2, 2013 § 6 Comments
When you touched my face with both your hands
When I caressed your hair with my fingers
When our bodies felt as one
And we looked at each other
In an all together different light.
That’s what has made our evenings memorable
The beauty of twilight
And how we became more than friends
We became lovers.