Upma Supremacy

 I am a logistical nightmare to love.

I don’t like PDA, I don’t like hugs, I don’t melt into a puddle over romance. In short, I am one of those who makes being nice to me a professional sport. 

When it comes to gifts, I am a certified full-on ass. I love books, but my brain is like Mad Hatter’s tea party - I may read the sisterhood of the travelling pants on Monday and be obsessed with metaphysical poetry by Tuesday afternoon, only to shift to journals on Intricacies of Indian architecture by Friday. Even I cannot predict my favourite genre. 

My personal style? A chaotic mish-mash of anything and nothing. Diamonds? Meh. Bags? Whatever. I do adore junk jewelry, but I am so notoriously picky about my collection that buying for me is basically like a high-stakes mission impossible. Special occasions are the days that my people want to murder me the most.

But my boy? He didn't just up his game, he went and bloody aced it. He went to Mumbai last week. He sat down with my Appa. He studied the sacred, step-by-step ritual of the Seshadri kitchen. He by-hearted the semolina to water ratio, the art of tempering, the perfect consistency, and the exact moment the gas needs to be shut off.

Before I headed out for work this morning, he served me a bowl of the world’s best Upma.

Who needs any other token when you have someone who speaks your father's recipe fluently?

A lifetime supply of Upma is Gifting Supremacy.

Together again

The warmth of words
A blanket I share with few

The silence though
I share with only you

Make me a cocoon
Weave your breath around it

Conjure a few dreams
Send it my way

Help me sing
Our wordless lullaby

My starlit friend
My secret butterfly

The rolling years
Bring the horizon closer

One day we will hum together
As promised, as foretold

In another world
In another time

Rest till then
And my songs rest with you.

Advice

The same old
The same old
Overlook overlook
Let it grow

Play the game
Do the routine
Wear the mask
Paint over pain

Hide the truth
Hide the true
Lights on
Show on

Kisses kisses
Hugs hugs
I love yous
You love mes

Spotlights off
Cameras turned
There is you
Here is me

Fester Fester
Stew and Brew
Bitter bitter
Ulcer and Pressure

Ugly relation
Fear of alone
Bound for society
Together but forlorn

Let it go
Let it go
Break free
Be free

Clean cuts
Healthy healing
Peaceful days
Lighter being

The drive to work

A ray of sunshine filtered through the broken window and a tiny corner was lit up.

It was a room I saw in passing. Stuck inside a cab, waiting for the signal to turn green, I got a peek into what would have been someone's home. What had the walls heard and seen? Had the roof felt the rattle of laughter? Had the beams sagged under someone's sorrow? Pale blue walls, trimmed white wooden window frames... they evoked a fairy tale. The lopsided photo of a forgotten God next to a framed picture of a local hero balanced the scale between faith and fame.

The cab began its sluggish march towards my destination.

I turned one last time. To memorize the broken orange and blue buckets piled outside the dismantled door. A used pail of paint and rusty ladder, attempts at fixing a home.
Symbols of lives lived, probably mean an attic full of memories to someone.

We move along. An urchin with a snotty nose and the eyes of an imp catches my attention.

A story everywhere.

Allowed

You cannot love her

Like you love a human child he said.
You will get your life back
Once she is gone she said.
He said, she said
And not one
Was hearing what the heart said

She was already love

She was already mine
In giving her up
I gave up something vital
Precious. Pure
She broke my walls
And snuck right through
Giving her up
Broke me
But I am not permitted
To mourn
Not for too long anyway
Because she was not a human
And I am not allowed to love her that much

Safety Nets

He took me on a roller-coaster ride

And just when we reached the top

He jumped the carriage

Leaving me alone and hanging

From the highest point

She came by then

And put a stop to the whining self pity

If he can jump she said, so can you

So, I listened. I jumped. I flew into friendship

And I have never flown higher

Eye of the beholder

I wish you could see
What a picture you make for me
Perfection in your blemishes
Beauty in chaos

A beaming blossom
Minus a petal or two
Radiant with colour
Emotions of every hue

You are joy
You are power
Incomplete yet whole
My flawed flower.