Alia and Maya

That’s fine, she said

Put on the lipstick, she said.

Throw on the black

Shawl, she said.

Let me become

Maya, she said.

Alia looked into the mirror

Contoured the lipstick on

Her thin lips.

The black shawl on her bare shoulders

A dress, maroon silk,

On her brown skin.

Kohl lined her big eyes.

She became

Maya, illusion.

A mirage of love

Of desire

A barely audible

Whisper of a voice

From loudmouth Alia

To soft spoken Maya.

Alia looked into herself

Found no void

Felt her throat fill up

No tears just

A need

A desire she kept

Like the ones she created

Danger

In every move

The border was always near.

Lower her eyes,

Slowly look up

Into the salivating face

Touch the bulbous cheek

With a perfumed finger

Playfully.

Tell me more, she said

Of all your conquests,

Why, you’re a great man, she said.

The drivel flowed, she feigned interest.

Sighed and ooh-ed

Looked into his eyes,

Shy coy all the

Deadly ingredients of a terrible

Monster.

Alia looked into her wine glass

Maya played on.

Alia thought of home

Maya conquered distant lands.

Alia yearned for sleep

Maya wanted more

Alia was unsure, scared

Maya was certain, victory was hers.

Oh you were the man behind it all

Maya said

Why yes I was, he said

Those were the days

He reminisced.

You’re still in your prime she said.

You flatter me well, butterfly

He said

I was drawn to you, sir,

She said

Were you? He said

His eyes glazed over

Hungry and vacant

He thought he was the hunter

Poor pompous fool

Diana was never hunted.

Don’t stop the wine, she said

Join me for another she said.

Why of course, darling, he said

She poured him a glass

Her perfumed finger touched

His accidentally, of course.

Alia looked on

The drunken fool

Trapped in a wire

Perfumed with the scent of

Parisian cherry blossoms.

She was lost, Maya played on

Alia was afraid

Maya was bold confident of success.

Alia saw Maya slip a perfumed

Hand into the fool’s coat

She was shocked, tried to

Look away but was intrigued

Maya played on, one hand caressed

The plump cheeks

The other dug deeper into the coat

Maya drew out her hand

A slim folder barely

Bigger than a wallet

In her palm

And a smile on her face.

And then I commanded them to move away

He slurred on

Oh really now did you she said

Yes and the tribal men they’re

Nastier than you think

Big men built on boar meat

And…

I must go to the ladies she said

Yes yes of course butterfly

Of course he said.

That’s fine, she said

Take off the lipstick, she said.

Throw on the white

shirt, she said.

Let me become

Alia, she said.

Maya looked into the mirror

Wiped the lipstick off

Her thin lips.

The black shawl on her bare shoulders

Fell to the ground

A shirt, white cotton,

Covered her brown skin.

Jeans, the tightest wound

Around her slender thighs

Kohl lined her big eyes.

She looked at her palm

The slim folder brilliant

In its dull dark blue

She smiled.

Pulled on her black blazer

The folder went in

She walked out

Into the cold Delhi

Night.

Crash

Green green blue blue

Heavy and frothy

Climb up higher higher

Stay there, hold it

Eternity in a trance.

Crash.

White white teal teal

Run away

Faster faster

Stop.

Pull up the water

Higher higher

Stay there, hold it

A fleeting moment

Crash.

Under the Yew Tree

He sat under the yew tree

The morning dew still clinging to his bare feet

The inconsiderate wind

Ruffled the letter in his hands

Warm tears running down his left cheek

Contrasted with the chill of the day so bleak

Five years ago she came into his life

Like a night star, she ignited the sad home

Her unsteady walk delighted one and all

Her rosy cheeks glowed like apples bright

A small frock adorned her little being

And a big smile her lips

She wrote him a letter when she was three

She promised him love and an apple tree

Said she’d pluck the fruit and give them to mamma

Far away in heaven, like the angel’s manna

Her bright red head tilted to the side as she smiled

Like her mamma gone away, possibly into the wild

Tucked under his arm,

He took her flying

Up in the air she would glide

Like a little dove

Safe in daddy’s hands, warm and strong

Away from the wind and the rain

He brought her pink and white candy

To see the gummy smile

And the little shriek as she saw the treat

Picking her up he’d tell her

She was mamma’s gift to daddy

To be with him forever

Through every winter and summer

One spring day they were by the lake

The dragonflies were abuzz, awake

The flowers smiled towards heaven

She counted the petals seven

They flew as she dropped them to the ground

Hoping one day they would be found

And mamma would come holding them

Like a flower, complete with a stem

How he wished she could know without pain

Her mamma was never to return

To this mortal plane

But silently he too yearned

For his beautiful wife, no mere plain Jane.

She had gone to the streams

And never come back home

He feared the worst when darkness burst through moon beams

And shed light on the sad garden gnome

It was still and silent like any other night

But he knew deep within something wasn’t right

When he didn’t see her bobbing kerosene light

In the near distance

He found her, broken and cut

Her feminine torn, her light put out

The raven locks that bounced with the smiling sun

Lay limp and wet, so sad and glum

The light gone out of her brown eyes

She stared at his face, emptiness a disguise

For the pain that had burnt her

Her smile, life just a blur

in his arms she lay

never to laugh, ever be gay.

The baby never knew

That daddy had gone out the next day

And shot a man where he was one

And then in the head again

Spat in his face twice and touched his wounds

To leave an impression of his blood

To know he had done right.

Autumn leaves were never the same

And the sun was never bright again

The baby was her only memory

Alive and healthy, her mamma’s sketch not made in a hurry

Her pretty little head he kidded every day

And promised himself he’d make her stay

Against His will if he had to

He wouldn’t loose the one thing he could cling on to

She grew everyday

Like a flower bud in happy May

Questions about life she was full to the brim

Her eyes hid a child’s secret, something grim

One couldn’t tell for she was mostly smiling

But something wasn’t okay for daddy’s darling

Then her cheeks got pinker and soon had a ring

A little circle that more red than benign pink.

Warmer she got as the days went by

Daddy’s smile couldn’t be seen anymore

His little angel lay in bed, red like a sore

How he hoped he could make her fly

Catch the butterflies with her

And bring her some yellow lilies

Watch her smile widen as she beheld nature’s lovelies.

Limp she grew

Her red hair fell out

Sickly and thin was the girl once plump and stout

Then they said she’d have to visit mamma

She seemed happy at first then

Realized daddy would stay behind on earth

Her weak smile went away

And instead came in death and decay.

That rainy day he buried her

Wrote out her epitaph and painted a yellow lily

He sat there until his clothes were drenched

And a feverish chill he felt spread

All over himself.

To the lonely home he went back

No one came running to grab his knees

There was no sound of princesses and fairies.

The fire had gone out.

The bed was cold, damp and old

A little doll smiled beside him

And then his eyes filled to the brim…

The morning came and he went out

To the bench under the yew tree

The letter in his hand felt heavy like lead

His wife was gone and now his little baby too

It seemed like they could have a family again

If only he had the courage.

And so he walked back up the winding road

In the cottage now forgotten and cold

He heard a happy squeal

And then a laugh and that inexplicable feel

Of warmth in this damp depressing

House. It was time to go, not one for over thinking.

Into the bedroom he went

And took a deep look as a last attempt

At trying to preserve a memory, a thought

Of this home that together they had bought.

But it mattered not anymore

For he was going to a place with much more in store

His baby girl and darling were waiting

There was no use in time’s wasting.

In the wooden drawers he found

The lethal thing he had used

when he had set things straight.

This was time, he thought

To let go of the bad and embrace what he sought

His baby and his and a dose of some bright light

In his dreary life.

With a smile he placed the heavy metal on his right temple

This was going to be simple

As he had imagined,

There was no pain and in a puff of smoke

He was with them again.

A Plastic Bag for my Thoughts

Every day, we encounter a new human being. This interaction can be as short as an accidental brush of the shoulders in a crowded lane or as deep and meaningful like a friend who sits and listens to you sob about a failed class or broken heart. All our encounters impact us in one way or another; some last longer than little moments and others last long seasons.

In my short life of twenty years, I have been blessed to have almost all sorts of encounters. Some of these have been positive, resulting in friendships that have surpassed the test of heartbreak, some have been neutral that have slowed down or sped up my day by a few minutes, and others have been negative and created pain and suffering in my otherwise happy life. The strange part about the last sort of encounters is that they have shown to me the indispensability of those people who have entered my life and stayed put through all three types. All these together have given birth to the girl I am today.

Often, I have mused about the worth of certain people in my life. This moment of reflection, I have noticed, creeps into almost everyone’s life at some point. It is expected that you will question some of the people in your life. After deliberation, sometimes in a dark lonely space within your own heart or sometimes with a friend, people decide whether or not someone deserves an allotment of time and space in their life. Some people pass these tests with flying colors, some are put on a sort of waiting list and others fail miserably. Those who outshine others in this examination are the ones who should stay and be the purpose of your life.

The last statement in the previous paragraph will surprise those who have known me well. I have chased good grades, success and recognition without flinching. It is now, after countless sleepless nights trying to ace that board exam, essays and, finally, admission into an ivy league, that I have realized what all that would have done for me in times of need. To cut to the chase, nothing much. Yes, satisfaction is something important and that only does come from hard work. But happiness, no. That elusive little sprite can only be captured in moments spent doing everything and nothing with loved ones. I think of those nights when my face looked like a surface marred by dirty streams of hot salty liquid and my eyes looked like angry black clouds, pregnant with torrential raindrops. In these moments, I did not fondly reminiscence about all the people I had left behind to reach this hallowed institution or the awards I had won in the process. What did get me through those dark, stormy nights into bright sunshine was a bond that I share with very few people. Those are the people who held my hand and walked with me as I tripped over painful barbed wires. These people touched me in ways that changed my life perspective so much so that they made me write that statement.

A few hours ago, I discussed these very things with a friend. This conversation, which was aborted due to the rude interruption of prior commitments, made me think more about life. It is true that life is more about the smiles and laughs you share with your confidantes than the trophies that adorn your living room. Those trophies won’t talk to you when you stumble home drunk, dirty and upset. The friend who lives few dorm rooms away might just walk over, grumpy and sleepy, and hold a plastic bag for you as you expel the unsavory night away into the abyss of an environmentally unfriendly bag.

As my friend walked away to her meeting, we decided to talk again later. I think it will be another long night as the English majors will stay up into the wee hours of the morning and argue about happiness and its existence, friendship and its importance. I might not win a prize for this debate, but I will definitely win something priceless – someone to hold a plastic bag as I throw up a sea of tears and unhappiness.

Generic love sonnet

Walking through the dewy green carpet

Spritely Gladness grabs my living being

Whispers lightly of happiness’s doorstep

And tells of moments cheery and fleeting

Youth on the side nods her head to agree

“Don’t mourn when cheer is nearby”, she warns

“out of your hand years will fly”, Gladness tells me

“And no longer will that smile your face adorn”.

Looking for my will, I feel abandon

In this arena against gaiety and youth

Resolute in my fixed decision

To embrace Grief, I ignore their talk uncouth

Sullen Gladness and Youth cast to the side

On wet ground, my feet continue their ride.