Life Of A Lust Toy

The winds carried a chill which was quite uncharacteristic for the October air, which perhaps would have been casually overlooked by her had it been just the only thing off about that Monday evening. The puffs of dust that temporarily rose into the air before vanishing into nothingness were the only signs of movement on the road besides her brisk, anxious walk. She took care so as to not huff and puff as she wriggled through the back alleys of the place, eyes transfixed on the road lest she should catch the eye of the revered opposite sex and invite the lust of the mankind (not that it needed any invitation). The set up was tailor made and the signs were ominous but being the optimist she was she spurned the thought and trudged on through the wearing pathways of a land little known for appreciating womanhood, better known for insulting it(blatantly), through a land wherein being born a woman is like being cast with a curse of the ugliest kind; one can fight it but one can never win, it was a land wherein the men of the highest order had failed to protect their daughters, wives and mothers from the filth of the purest breed, men of that country were the scions of glory but left behind a lousy legacy.  So every evening when she got out of the confines of her house to buy a cabbage flower from the farmer or to fetch a packet of nuts from the grocer or even to pick up the newspaper from her front yard (for which she had to bend over, mind you); she raged a brave battle, a battle she seldom won; but being the warrior she was, she fought on.

She was the wife; the woman who is the bearer, the lover and the progeny bundled into one, woman that commanded respect, reverence and worship. But on foot he came, the filth, that is, harboring intentions of the dubious kind. She knew well, that the filth had feet (3 of them) and it walked with aplomb but such was the might, she could not flee. But it did not end there; he carried an entourage, and they came in a bus, fifty of them, in the bus she was laden with the cabbage and the packet of nuts, when it was all done and dusted and everyone was hot and weary and the bus was far, along came a police car. She thought it was over but then everyone went to the police station and the game was played over on either side of the bars, and then came the politician, enraged at what had gone around, snatched the woman from their clutches and into his; he took her to his cabin under the watchful eyes of the police, laid her on the table and had his way. As she was on the table, a shade of deep, dark red; she begged God to kill her daughter while she was still sleeping in her bed.

Try Try Again....

"It is common sense to take a method and try it. If it fails,

admit it frankly and try another. But above all, keep trying

something."

-- Franklin D. Roosevelt

Loving a Slut

Best is when she turns off the lights

The subtle grace of her,

Falls nonchalantly on the drapes

The mangled locks, worn and rugged

From a day of being a slut

From a day of being fondled and played with

I trusted love and fell for her

Yes, I was in love with a slut

I know she won’t love me for free

Won’t hug me and sit with me on a tree

Dangle her legs down with me

And her hopes, on me

The slut won’t

But I am in love with the woman beneath

The one whose tears hit the floor

When she is all alone by her fireside

The one who keeps her father’s picture in her bag

The one who misses being a girl she once was

I wish I could come on a white horse

And take her away

But I just did not have the balls

To risk my pride

Lest I were to give it in her hands

And she did not ride

As the night fell upon her

She drew away from the window

It’s her time to go to work

She would come back early morning

Eyes wet, feet heavy

Distraught and fallen

I took a deep breath, puffed up my chest

A wreath of red roses, for my pretty girl

I knocked, but the door gave way

She lay by the hearth, her skin a shade of steel grey

Spangled like a star, she lay there in a sorry state

To my love, I had come a moment too late

Sneak Peak - BDB

It was too cold an afternoon even for a winter day. The wind that was blowing had fangs and it tore through the body with the subtlety of an alligator and this for a place that was nestled so close to the equator was unusual and annoying. Annoying because even the furriest of coats bought for the worst winter day were as good as an umbrella would be in a hurricane. And to top it all off was not the dim dull lighting which led one to believe that it was late evening already lest they were to look at their watch and be pleasantly surprised nor the eerie dark clouds which threatened of a grand outpour; it was the raucous and raunchy thunder which bellowed over ones head with malice in its intentions. The whole panorama made one wonder whether Zeus and Indradev had taken control of the same skies and all this was a show of power to assert supremacy of either. The weather was sublime in its own sense, but right there in the midst of all the natural phenomena a young man sat on a chair in the porch of his house; just sat there in the thunder and the lightning of the winter day and did nothing. I mention him because the turbulences of the atmosphere could only be matched by the insides of this man. Yes, Viraj Aaryan sat there and such were his insides at that point of time, such was the gigantic accumulation of thoughts in his head, such was the insanity quotient of the measures he planned to take and such was the pain inside him as his belly squirmed with guilt that he barely noticed the weather around him. It had been almost a day now that Pritika had come to her place and told her the news but it seemed just like a couple of minutes ago, the words reverberated in his head now and then and he shriveled up with a mix of guilt, anger, grief and disbelief. 

Verses Of A Love Bird

 

There are times when it gets cold

My world sounds like a sad lore

My insides shrivel up and cry

And I have no idea why

My existence loses meaning

And my sanity gears up to revolt

In the midst of this soul chilling enigma

I turn to you with a smile

A hope that the warmth of your soul

Will spare a share

And swallow me whole

But baby its fine

I know life is tough

Your side and mine

So baby its fine

Billion Dollar Bastard - Snippet

Viraj just stood there and looked at her for a minute. The late noon sun which had now slid into a bright orange shell had colored the sky in orange and some of that orange was washing off from the sky and shining onto Pritika’s tress; Viraj had always thought that sunlight made Pritika look even prettier than she was, her smile more magical than it already was and her eyes even more beautiful than they already were and at that rare moment when sun was dipping Pritika into lucid orange divinity, Pritika looked nothing less than angelic. Viraj bent forward and in a quiet motion, kissed her lips; Pritika smiled and hugged him again and then kissed him back. She was happy as hell that they were together.  It had been just a month since they had been seeing each other and they already were sharing a great connection; perhaps because they had been friends since school days. Funny thing they never felt any romantic inclination for each other when they were in school, but when school ended and they went off to different colleges, they slowly realized that they loved each other. Love, just like God, perhaps works in mysterious ways.

The Reality

As a kid growing up I once attended a funeral in my early teenage which was the first day I really thought of death. That was the first day I saw death as the ultimate,unforgiving,unbiased and untameable reality which everyone has to one day slide into. Yea, a little early to be thinking that deep; I know, but some things just strike you and you just can’t get them out of your head. As a kid everyone is attracted towards something, the thing they think about the most, for some it may be the favorite train set or rainy days or whatever; for me,since that day was that truth. I remember standing in front of the mirror and observing myself minutely and thinking about how I was such a small part of such a small planet belonging to such a small part of the universe which itself is possibly a very small part of something incomprehensible; I remember observing my eyes, my ears, my face and myself as a whole and thinking, how each and every part of me was on a journey towards that inevitable day when everything of me shall turn to ashes.