HYPOCRITE

I hate nothing more than incomplete stories or cliffhangers. The main aim of reading the narrative is to see it all come together in the end. I don’t mind a disastrous ending or even a depressing one, at that. But to leave your reader hanging like that is a plot of the cruelest kind. I’ll show you what a narrative is supposed to be:

…Carrying a bag of chips and a tub of ice cream, I sat at the window for a while, lost in my thoughts. It had been several days since I had last spoken to my boyfriend and he didn’t seem to return my calls. Fishy.  It also bothered me immensely that I hadn’t gone to work in the last couple of days and not one co worker had had the decency to ask me if there was something wrong. Sure, I never made much of an effort to be friendly towards them but you wouldn’t either, if you saw how snooty and immature they were. (No, I’m not the snooty one, thank you very much). But if one of them went off the grid like that, I’d call to make sure they weren’t kidnapped or something, you know? Irresponsible humans. Humming a tune to my favourite song, I decided I’d continue the sketches I’d started last week. I’ve made a series of demon comic strips which I supply to the local paper to earn an extra buck and it’s more of a hobby than anything else. Viper is a vicious slimy green reptilian monster that represents our innermost human flaws like ego, greed, jealousy etc. I’m not showing off but it has been somewhat in the limelight for a while now. I started drawing the fangs and the tongue as I felt a prickly sensation on my legs. I looked down to see goosebumps cover my hands. Odd. I shut the windows thinking it was the cool breeze that had me uncomfortable. But soon the chill spread through my body and I could feel myself choking a little as I saw the face of Viper staring at me through the window. No, I am not a lunatic, it was out there. I felt a grip on my neck, the touch of cold slimy scales brushing my back as fear- beyond any I’ve ever felt- crippled me.  I shut my eyes and screamed as I fell hard to the floor. What is happening? I must be dreaming! But every bone in my body told me this was my reality. Being kidnapped would have been a better situation right now. I threw up as I turned around and saw the monstrosity that loomed over my head. Suddenly, like a flash of lightning, fangs bore into my forehead. I struggled, gasping, and reached out to hold onto something. Hel-

LEFT UNSAID

It was like clockwork:
I’d catch the 8:00 bus to work
And I’d see her sitting
In her salwaar kameez
On the far right
Always absorbed in a book,
Always with her spectacles
Perched on the edge of her nose
And her black hair cascading
In soft curls all the way down
To her lower back.
She turned, smiled and nodded,
Acknowledging the routine
We found ourselves in everyday
And got back to her novel.

It started when she saw me
Throwing an orange peel
Out of the bus window. I didn’t know
What hit me then.
One minute I was discarding waste
And the next
I was the victim of severe berate;
I looked down, embarrassed,
And spluttered words of apology. 

After that, we saw each other
In the bus everyday.
I handed over a poster to her
and returned to my seat.
I smiled as I saw her laugh
With that twinkle in her eye
when she read it:
Cleanliness is next to Godliness
She turned around, gave me a sly
Look and turned away.

She spoke to me sometimes
Asked me where I worked
And what hobbies I enjoyed.
I was so tongue tied, I never
Asked her what she liked or where
She went everyday.

I waited for her one morning
Finally deciding to build up the
Courage and ask her
To meet me somewhere
That wasn’t as crowded, that
Required her sitting facing me,
Maybe with a cup of coffee,
but the bus left the stop
And I craned my neck
trying to spot her.
She must be ill today, maybe tomorrow
I thought to myself
And everyday thereon
I waited for her
But as the days flew by
The flame of hope got smaller
Until it all but diminished
And I never saw her again.

I sat in close proximity
To a beautiful, interesting girl
For nearly fifty two days everyday
And in the time it took me
To realize our eyes had spoken more
Than words could ever communicate,
It was too late for me
To even ask for her name
To remember her by.

INSTRUMENTAL

She played him
Like the harp that
Sat at the back of her cupboard
Slowly rotting and forgotten
With the hopes that it
Would be her prized possession
One day.
She played him,
Like the instrument she thought
He was. Unfortunately
For him, the melodies and
Tunes of love that he emanated
Were serene, beautiful, honest.

CULTURAL PRIDE

Dress code: Cocktail formals
I’m not sure if this fits the brief, ma.
What if everyone out there ridicules my outfit or worse, what if they don’t let me enter the ball?
My mother quickly puts me to ease as she adjusts the wrinkled cloth and whispers “you look beautiful” in my ear. She holds me by the shoulders as we both stare at my image in the full length mirror. I could easily do with a few changes, maybe remove the excess makeup my mother has plastered on my face. I look like a different person. But she insists everyone will be dolled up and so I cave.
I’m meeting my date to the Annual Sophomore Ball at the event itself, so I can’t double check my outfit with him. I’ll just have to take this leap of faith, I guess. Ma, I’m never talking to you again if this goes wrong. She laughs but says nothing. As if it weren’t bad enough I was one of the last to be asked, standing out like this could culminate into something dreadful.
I take a deep breath as I push the door to the ballroom open and step in. A  mighty staircase adorned with flowers on both sides spans out towards to the dance floor below and as I walk down I can see a hundred eyes fixated on me.
In harmony with my ethnicity and culture, I, Simran, have chosen this blissful moment to dress in a red sari at a ball when everybody else is clad in flowy gowns and slitted dresses. Great.
This sari used to be my mother’s and it is to date her most valued treasure. Simple, yet elegant, it fit me like it was stitched for me. The blouse has almost no back and the mastery with which ma had draped it accentuates my curves. She has applied a bright red lipstick to match the cloth, and eye-shadow to complement my big eyes.
Aaron rushes forward and grabs my hand. He looks flustered and nervous and must have mentioned he likes my sari at least a dozen times. As everybody at the event smiles wide at me and comes over to gush compliments, I tingle with anxiety about the new found limelight. Rachel wanted to know where the sari was from and Sarah wanted my bindi. In fact, all the boys seem to have forgotten their dates and come over to talk to me. Aaron, flushed with excitement, pushes them all away and pride swells in him as he tells me he’d made the right choice asking the most beautiful girl in the room. My cheeks burn as he leads me to the centre of the room and we danced till the last song of the evening played.
I silently thanked my mother who always emphasised that my culture was the very essence of me, that I should embrace it and not avoid it. That my ethnicity would make me stand out and I should not try fitting in with the rest so much. That day I loved myself in my true form more than any other day, and you know what? So did everyone else.

COGNIZANCE

I saw him sitting in
the second row, five seats from
the aisle, with those
luscious locks of brown
hair falling loosely over his
eyes, smiling as he chatted
with his friend sitting beside him;
those dimples – a canyon of
ecstasy.
And me? He doesn’t know my name.
he doesn’t even know I exist.
Tomorrow would be three years
of working together
in the same office, a paralegal
he dismissed without even a
glance.
The butterflies in my stomach
snapped me back to reality
as I heard my name being
announced as the next performer
at the Annual Meet of the
Litigators of Fort Prowell.
This is it
I walk onto stage as the sweet
melodies of my favorite
song fill the auditorium,
and I submit myself to
the music. Slowly and steadily,
my nervousness breaks through
and I find myself forgetting
the hundred eyes watching me.
Dance is second nature to me.
It is who I am, it is who I want to be.
I twirl and whirl and hold my
pirouette and I can feel the adrenaline
rush through my veins as I
feel that familiar exhilaration
driving every molecule in my body.
I dedicate this stance to him
As I pour out my emotion
Through my body in the form of
Jumps and splits and I feel
My heart pumping and the music
Getting louder and faster
and as suddenly as I had started
I stop, with the tunes ebbing
and the searing heat of the
white spotlight focused solely on me.
I can hear a thunderous round
of applause and I look up
beaming, confident, happy.
And there he stands tall,
unable to control himself from
whistling and clapping sincerely.
Our eyes lock and three years of
ignorance fade away, three years
of a desperate crush turn to something
more, we’ve spoken a whole lot
without the need for syllables or
speech, and I see him making his
way backstage as I exit, too.

GLIMPSES OF ANDALUSIA

My two week trip to Spain took me to Seville as my second destination. Before I post the pictures, I need you to know that Seville is the most beautiful place I’ve ever visited and I truly enjoyed the vibe this city brought with it.
Victorian style houses, horse carriages, magnificent churches dotted the landscape and it really took you out of that dreadful cement jungle we live in and transported us back to simpler times.
Absolutely gorgeous, this city just awaits my return!!!

Catedral de Sevilla

Plaza de Espanya

Alcazar

Metropol parasol

Barrio Santa Cruz

Triana

WALKS IN MADRID

Hey guys, I’ve been on a two week trip to Spain with my sister and I just got back, hence the lack of blog posts recently. I can tell you it was the best trip I’ve ever had and it really makes you confident as a person to travel without your parents.
(Reminder: I’m nineteen years old and I’m Indian so it is a big deal for parents to let their kids out of their sights, trust me.)

Here are some memories from my trip.

I stayed in Madrid for three days, the first of which was my birthday (Note it down for future reference – that’s 14th May). We saw the most beautiful sights in Madrid and ate the most fabulous food.

Llao Llao Yogurt

Park Retiro rose garden

Hot chocolate and churros

San Miguel Mercado, 5 layer coffee

Madrid Basilica, heavenly in form

the Royal Palace

National Library

These are some of the pictures I had to limit myself to. Madrid, the capital of Spain, is a beautiful city and loves to be photographed. The pictures above include The Royal Palace, The Basilica across the palace, the San Miguel Market, The Park Retiro etc.

While the fact that 9 in the morning and night displayed the same brightness outdoors baffled my sister and me, and delicious food and culture took over us, these three days really gave us the best start we needed to our trip.

I DO, DO I?

She shrieked in delight
As he bent down to tie
The laces which
Always gave him trouble.
His OCD compelled him
To have two perfectly symmetrical
Bows. He looks up startled
To hear her scream “YES”
A second of hesitation
Before he pulls
Out the ring he had planned
To give her sister.
And they lived
Happily ever after.