What is Christmas for you and me??

I walked towards the church, with glittering lights and decorations. People had finished mass,they stood laughing, complimenting each other’s dress and gossiped. I looked at them and walked away. As I sit to ponder, what Christmas actually means to me? Is it fellowship, attending mass, wearing new cloths, hogging delicious cuisine, get together…..?? I know not, none of it actually matter to me nor made me happy. In other news, a girl is gang raped in a moving bus in Delhi, is fighting for her life. Entire nation condemns the act, there are rallies, agitations, debates, and newsrooms are "buzzing". The girl lay semi conscious fighting for life, feeling horrendous, fearful of her own tears and agony. Her vagina bleeds non-stop, her breasts are sore. Her father cries like a baby, her mother prays for her death knowing the trauma her child has to go through’. After a week, people are busy in their own mundane routine life. The girl long forgotten, people do not even have traces of vague memory. Does anyone remember-” Aruna Shanbaug”? Up west, mentally ill person kills children in his rage against the world, his mother, his friends who did not exist, his hatred towards himself. Children that fateful day were happy as ever, just another day. Maybe a kid got his morning kiss and another did not, not knowing they would be killed mercilessly brutally….just like that. Maybe mother of that particular kid who did not get his morning kiss mourns the loss, wanting feverishly to kiss her son. Just one. One last time. Just one. In my favorite country which I have never visited Afghanistan, a family prays in a roofless house. A girl child who will never attend elementary school, her father reminisces the glorious past of his beloved country. Every sound creates a dread of bombs bombarded mercilessly long back for no mistake of his or his family. Memory of his wife lost in the war against….?? he knows not. Her absence creates a vacuum he could never fill. Her warmth, her touch, her smell, her kisses, her memory haunts him. In parallel world in our world, business tycoons, corporates, banks discuss profits, balance sheets, strategy, acquisition, margins, risk management. The boardroom filled with people who hate each other but smile a lot. Politicians plan for next elections, bad mouthing oppositions in the day and have dinner together in the night. Hospitals are new mortuaries, schools are new stress manufactures, colleges create hostile environment. In my world, maid runs the house, goes home to drunkard husband, neighbors don’t talk to each other, men are frustrated, women are fed up, old people curse, children imitate. Next day the same rush, same rat race, same faces who don’t smile. Walls are tall, windows closed, trees are dry, and flowers do not blossom. It does not rain. It pours. People don’t whisper. They shout. Everyone runs not knowing where they are headed towards. Would anything change? Will i? will you? Will they? We all question and nobody answers. Millions die of disease, guns, bombs….of heartbreaks. A lone woman cries out of excruciating pain. Another laments at her loss. A man lives in illusion. Someone dies, someone cries, someone moans, someone laughs, someone dreams, someone hopes, someone plots. Someone is you and I. Now what is Christmas for me. Maybe a hope of what should be…..a better world for you and me. Just a “hope”. Little hope.

Words....

Half-cooked stories; half-baked stories; half-written stories; juggle up... the words get into my nerves, into my veins, into my bones, into my very breathing pattern. When men make love to me- they feel my words, they suck my words, they thrust into my words, they hurt my words, they caress my words, they rub my words, they kiss my words. ... When they leave...they carry the taste of my words. I wince in pain, I rejoice in happiness. And.... I deliver a collection of words called - "A Novel"

Hold on......

It all started with an idea, a concept, a random thinking. It sprung out of now where; on a day with nothingness;out of mere ordinary mundane days. In the bus. I was sitting on the window seat opposite a woman with sad eyes and deep breaths too often,next to me sat a teenage girl with lot of pimples and dreams. We all smiled at eachother. I have always loved stranger's smiles -such genuine smile. We all three had things in common ~ sad eyes and dreams. Its then i thought of a 'thought' which can change my life altogether. When nothing and nobody would matter anymore. And that would cease to affect me. That moment when i will soak in deep tranze....forever. Before that i had things to do; people to meet; things to say. Till then....let my "idea", my "concept"...form in my mind. In my womb.

On one of those days....words flowed....

~What was yours is mine ~ i leave my mark on him ~ for you to live with ~ for the rest of ur life ~ keep him.


~Restless ~ oh my soul ~ calm down ~ roar not ~ in d wilderness ~ i will give u peace ~ in his arms.


~That road where we traveled hand in hand then~ now has a dried up lonely tree~now i walk alone.


~Behind his sugar coated words~i felt his deception. Behind his foul words~i felt love.


~I watched him make tea~i feasted on d shape of his spinal cord~his nudity n aroma.


~I struggle ~ to escape ~ from my untold future.


~All my lovers catalyst into ~ a distant memory ~ which is buried in d unknown land ~ i feel haunted though ~ now a days.


~In d abyss of~his musk.


~I offer my body ~ on the platter ~ spare my soul.


~He killed me ~ with ~ just ~ one word.


~I sin in the name of god ~ to save ~ the godless.