Yesterday he murdered her, Today she killed herself... He exists in her dreams...She exists in his nightmares...They no longer know each other; They no longer pretend to be in love...They aren't happy, they aren't sad...they have drifted apart and so has time...

I think she is dying, I know she is...I think I know her, I know her very well...She does not feel anything anymore.She is numb to all endearments...She died the day they raped her...She can see them everywhere...They are hollow men, faceless and empty...They have a body but possess no soul...Her body is ragged, her mind weary, but yes she still possesses what they do not...She has a soul...They are blind to folly, deaf to justice, mute to goodness...They made a zombie out of her and yet, she gets up each time they try vanquishing her...

The silver lining, yes all her life she looked for it...Perhaps she found it...Yes she found it...but she found it that midnight when it rained so heavily that it drenched all her desires...That night the whole world slept in peace...Yet, she did not sleep...She tried crying with happiness but she could not, she tried crying with sorrow and again she failed...In him she found the silver lining but even he murdered her, brutally, mercilessly...She keeps failing and yet she has faith...Faith in her dreams, even though she does not sleep...

And then, you realize nothing is worth it after all... people are pretentious and life itself a pretense...

When you wake up in the morning and look at yourself in the mirror... what does it reflect? It is simply an image of yourself, that image which you want to show to the world, the image that suits your needs, the one which is nothing but a facade, a phantasm of what you pretend to be...
A few days back, I entered a restroom wherein I encountered a distorted face staring hard at me... as I moved closer the face grew more and more malformed...Sullen, Smudged, Scratched, and Scarred... that face was my own...When I looked at myself in the broken shards of the mirror...it was only then that I really found myself, my identity, my true self, my reality.

Who am I in reality? The society categorizes me in the shackles of different tags... but I do not want such designations and identifications... I am what I believe I am... and unless and until I do not accept the fact that life is like the broken shards of a mirror, I can do nothing but lie to myself... Pretense has to be identified,realized and replaced with reality...the reality which is difficult to accept gets transformed into pretense and then erupts the vicious circle of a never ending masquerade...

The purpose of life is not just the pursuit of happiness but its fulfillment... Every little thing in life has its essence, its inner beauty which illumines the outer... all we need to do is realize its importance and start valuing it... the garb of pretense needs to be discarded completely to renew our lives with reality... A reality which breathes fresh air even in the environment of polluted pretense!

In the depths of this virgin forest germinates the embryo of human existence. Raped and molested is the soil, soiled over and over again through its copulation with man. I recline in tranquility, unaccompanied and unperturbed, under the thick shade of deodar tress. The last rays of daylight flitting through the leaves form psychedelic patterns on my hands. I look at the crimson sun fading behind the lofty Dhauladhar mountain range and close my eyes.

[Part fiction/part reality... Story based in Mcleodganj, Himachal Pradesh, India]

Blue, Red and Black...
Melancholy spreads itself upon my back.
Travelling to hell, I've lost my track.
Hopeless hope isn't the only setback.
Sinister sins are now ready for attack.

I see two slabs of walls inclined perpendicular to each other, suspended in space. No ceiling, no floor; no light no darkness; nothing below, nothing beyond - just this piece of existence in the depths of my vision. The wall is monochromatic - an evenly painted - dark as well as luminous, stark as well as gloomy - shimmering as the ultramarine sea, secluded as the azure sky, pure as sapphire - The brightest, deepest, most prominent shade of Cobalt Blue. At the centre where the two walls meet to form the corner I see your tall form...you are seated hugging your knees. Your face is buried in the shadows of abysmal desolateness. Your eyes are resplendent with tears... the lovely brown decaffeinated into a translucent hazel... You are wearing a pair of blue jeans and a plain, white un-tucked shirt. Your frizzy hair is tousled and your glasses lie off-centre... I emerge from the depths of nothingness... My eyes meet yours and you smile faintly...I feel pained and anguished to see you in loneliness... Feeling the desire to hold and comfort you, I move towards you...
Red, Black and Blue...
Sex and desire of every hue.
Buried lovers emerge anew.
Dark passions blur my view.
Where should I hide?I've no clue!

You and I are together...The walls are slowly stained with blood... like paint, the red blood of my body covers the walls...As we come closer to each other the colour deepens...from its rosy hue to flaming ruby! I slip my fingers into yours and hold you close to me. You run your fingers on my back and embrace me tightly...We feel each other's warmth for what seems like eternity! I caress your hair and you hold my face in your hands... I look deep into your eyes and we come so close that all we can feel is each other's breath. You feel the desire to kiss me,so you slightly brush your lips against mine...Exactly at that moment, even before we are fully aware of what we are doing, a flash of liquid light, white and blinding, interrupts us and we are detatched eternally!
Black, Blue and Red...
I hear desperate wails in my head.
Distorted dreams blot my bed.
Frozen tears I incessantly shed.
Woe! I'm perpetually dead...

I see myself... I am sitting huddled in the corner... exactly at the place where you were seated. The walls are now charred Black...it appears like burnt wood-dilapidated and ruined to the core! I see absurd, frenzied shadows of unidentifiable forms on the walls... these shadows are desperately trying to run away...from what?I am unaware of! They all are lamenting, wailing in agony and pain... they all seem restless, frantic and absorbed in a stupor of frenzy. Their cacphony is tormenting! Agitated, I try looking down and see mutilated hands of different men pointing their fingers at me. I hear sounds of laughter, ridicule and insults; people mocking fun at me! I cover my ears with the palm of my hands but as I do so, the noise grows louder! I look at the hands and try recognizing them...Among these hands I am horrified to find yours! I can even hear your voice along with the others! Harrassed and in utter disbelief, I tear off my clothes. A glass coffin emerges from oblivion and encloses me within itself... In complete brutality and heartlessness, I rip open my breast... I take out my bleeding heart and hold it in my hands. My heart is nothing but a grotesque, malformed amalgation of blood and flesh... shapeless and broken like a mirror into a thousand shards! The noises and shadows fade from the walls and is replaced by my own shadow... The bizarre semblance of hands disappear as well... All that is visible now, is my shadow on the wall, content and happy...I can also see my bloodied dead body, with its heart ripped apart. I hear a calm voice from afar...it sounds like a hymn, a chant, a prayer, a blessing! It says, ''I'll always be there for you, Don't worry Anukriti''...I recognize it...it seems like a lullaby soothing me into an endless sleep... At last I am happy and satisfied...for I am dead!A smile lingers over my face, and my body remains entombed in the glass coffin forever!

[Photograph taken by Anukriti(Me)...highlights a shadowy blood stained hand(my own) seeking justice in its blurred reality.]
The abyss of my melancholic mind,
Has eyes created to be perpetually blind!
Festered in this is, an inconsolable individual's soul.
That breaks and beholds the blurred vision of a goal!

[Translation in brackets... for people who have problems understanding urdu... ]

"Here on this seat my body may shrivel up, my skin, my bones, my flesh may dissolve, but my body will not move from this seat until I have attained Enlightenment." - Gautam Buddha
I yearn to be there...the need to have Chai, converse, express, understand and feel is overpowering...J.P. Tea Stall... D-School... The ledge under the tree...F.R.I.E.N.D.S. - Our immortal symposium... Discussions and confessions - family, classes, books, friends, food, teachers, poetry, depression, love, feelings, music, frustrations, dance, movies, home, life... every little thing!
Faculty of Arts... those foggy mornings, beautiful evenings, bright faces, warm smiles... Our classroom... musty with some disarrayed broken benches... large windows overlooking the faculty below... chalk-less classes juxtaposed with the duster-less ones... the microphone...sometimes in a lullaby mood in the most important classes; and at times partially deafening us with its howls and screeches.

Andekhe khwaabon ko tumhari nazar ki zaroorat hai,

Zindagi ke rooh ko mohabbat ki zaroorat hai.

Khwaab toot jaate hain kaanch ke tukdon ki tarah,

Jazbaaton ke sailaab mein sookhe aansuon ki tarah.

Armaanon ke bhawar mein kyun kho gaye jazbaat mere?

Khuda ke azaanon mein bhi dabe hain kahin aansu mere.

Be-panah mohabbat se fakat alehda hai zindagi tumhari,
Gar surkh phoolon mein zinda hai aaj bhi khushboo tumhari...

Inu's eyes twinkled with exuberance as she fed the one-year old. The day she had been intently anticipating had finally breezed in. As she dotingly fondled the baby's forehead she was awe-struck to see the contrariety of the white skin vibrant under her own sooty flesh. She gazed outside the window... it was same through which Puchki had informed her about the gratifying news some two hours ago. She was now desperate to get back home. She knew it would have to be today...Granny had been home for more than a week. Puchki entered the room as the sky turned into a brilliant blue bespeckled with black and purple. Inu smiled at her friend as she prepared to leave. The baby had dozed off in her lap. She carefully tiptoed out of the room after transferring the sleeping infant in Puchki's arms. Her heart fluttered as she rushed towards her home. Even the five minutes walk seemed like hours to her in her elation...She finally reached home, a dilapidated hut made up of thatched roof and mud walls. She had expected the door to be open but it was tightly shut. She knocked frantically until her father opened the door, his eyes expressionless at her arrival. Granny was nowhere to be seen and her mother lay scrambled on the cot, her clothes in disarray,her hair tussled and her face concealed in the darkness of the room. Inu looked around for a flicker of joy in her parents' eyes but all she could do was stare into blank faces. She slowly brought out an object wrapped in a filthy glittery paper from the left pocket of her frock. She then questioned her mother who did not utter a word... She implored her father who was carrying a pitcher filled with boiling water outside the door... he too didn't reciprocate. As soon as her father came back inside, she ran outside unwrapping the little object she had in her hand. It was a plastic milk bottle she had brought out of her year long earnings for her darling new-born sister 'Chiku'. She had decided the name the day she got the news of her mother's pregnancy. She had lived alone for seven long years! A sister would surely have filled the vacuum in her little heart. Her apprehensions and anticipations evaporated and dwindled as she looked down at the pitcher kept at the doorstep...She stood benumbed at the sight...the blood bismirched pulp of a baby's carcass... her face smudged... limbs barely visible...A deafening scream reverberated as the bottle dropped down from Inu's hand, welling her eyes for eternity!

South Delhi, Outside your home

While rummaging through some old files and other multifarious objects kept locked my armoire, a plethora of knickknacks and documents flooded before me. The first object that caught my eye was a dilapidated, musty piece of paper which read, 'Anukriti...Assembly of God Church School(Tolly), Unit II K.G. 21.4.93'... A timeworn examination paper with spellings, dictation, a number of colouring activities, some add and subtract sums and several questions like why do we need water, write the name of two wild animals, four flowers and whatnot. I read my answers and smiled at my handwriting which has changed a lot over the years. A 15 year old piece of paper...seasoned with the essence of my childhood! It may seem insignificant for some to attach so much importance to a trivial fragment of paper but for me its a storehouse of memories, a repository of my life. With my mind lost in juvenile thoughts my hand unawares brushed against a charming object.
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............... To be continued .................

Every single day I hope you will love me and every single second you slip away from me like time. Time is flying but I have no wings to fly. I cannot blame you, nor God because I broke my wings myself. I want to capture moments with you. I want to share my life with you but all you have is time for yourself. I wish I could hold onto life forever but then I also wish I could die eternally. Ah! My wishes are so gratifying. I keep the razor close to me and gaze at it with love. I am doing nothing but molesting myself. But why? Why don't you understand? It agonizes me, tortures me. But I will never say how much it hurts me to be so misunderstood! I cry in pain. The razor end touches my vein and all I do is bleed within.

The spirit or the aatma connects us to God or parmaatma. This nexus of "aatma" and "parmaatma" leads to the realization of the self. The self once realized makes an individual go beyond religious beliefs and hence leads to spirituality. Spirituality is not a religion, thought, state of mind, idea or belief... it is enlightenment, a spark, infact not just a spark but the fire aflame in our souls. Once ignited a person's spirit is impregnated with an influx of nascent ideas, devoid of negative thoughts and mentality.Through spirituality we can create our own nirvaana, our own paradise, our own Shangri-la and ultimately find moksha.

Har mod pe viraaniyan, har safar mein akelapan...

The day i met u, my fantasies changed into reality
The dysphoria of my life suddenly neutralized into ecstasy
Your smile captivates me in a timeless trance
And i feel benumbed as my heart n soul begin2dance
Love is in the air i can feel u everywhere
Your touch is like a zephyr full of warmth n tenderness
Your love has overpowered me into a zone of ceaseless happiness
I feel undying love for u, i feel elevated,
For me u r the most precious gift, the almighty created
Love is in the air i can feel you everywhere
Now to my life each dawn has something new to bring
You have permeated in my soul n changed evrything
An ocean of love is wat i see in ur resplendent eyes
Our love is pulchritudinous, a love that never dies
Love is in the air i can feel you everywhere.

God and Satan both reside within each one of us.The odyssey of our lives depends on the choice(s) we make.We can choose to be either of the two.

Life may languish, but memories always remain multihued

Yaadein hoti hain os ki boondon ki tarah,
kitaabon mein qaid sookhe phoolon ki tarah,
chattaanon se takraati saagar ki lehron ki tarah.
yeh yaadein humein hasaati hain,rulaati hain.
aur yahi hain jo humein zindagi jeena sikhaati hain

Aankhon mein andekhe khwaab hain
aur hothon pe kayi ankahi baatein
Baaton mein ansuni khwahishein hain
Aur khwahishon mein andheri si raatein
Andhere mein tanhai nazar aati hain
Saath deti hain sirf tumhari yaadein
Yaadon mein bhi aankhein roti hain
kyunki bikhar gaye hain saare naatein