Saturday, November 14, 2015

to the soldier. (II)

the sweaty warmth
on my naked back
wakes me up
satisfied but thirsty.
He has covered me like a blanket.
legs intertwined with mine
He has fixed himself as a question mark,
Exerting his muscles
Covering my edges
and spaces
Filling my depths 
and gorges.
His left hand holds me to his chest
as gentle as water bubble
cupping my breast.
The right hand fingers 
traced the tip of my hair
to the tip of my toe nail
waking me to multiple wants
and desires
are now
balled up in a fist.
as if he is ready
(like a lion of Sahara)
To spring at any moment.
is it the sands our legs carried
that are spread like grains
on the creased and crinkled 
white canvas we are painted on
that puts him on guard?
Reminding him.
of the far far land
of sun and sand
of blood and sweat
of bomb and bullet.
I turn and face him.
I trace his scars and cuts.
they are everywhere.
on his lips.
on his chest.
on his feet.
I kiss each of them.
He sighs and smiles in his sleep
He turns and twists
fixes himself like a blanket over me.

But, his fingers don't relax.
As always.
He sleeps fitfully.

Sunday, September 13, 2015



के रे ?
म नै तिमी कहाँ आउनु पर्ने ?
तिमी म कहाँ आउँन मिल्दैन ?
यहाँ जीवन छ ।
यहाँ राती आकाशमा ताराहरु चम्किन्छन् ।

हँ ... म डरपोख रे ?
होइन ।
तिमीलाई झै उसले मलाई मन्त्रमुग्ध तुल्याउँछ ।
उसको रहस्यताले मलाई पनि लोभ्याउँछ ।
त्यसैले मलाई नाङ्गो तार छोऊँ–छोऊँ लाग्छ
छुरीले नसा रेटूँ– रेटूँ झै लाग्छ ।

उसको पच्छौरीमा लुक्न छोजेकी थिएँ ।
आँखा चिम्लिसकेकी
ब्युझिए ।
त्यहाँको चिसोपन मलाई मन परेन ।

अहँ ... अस्वीकारेको होइन ।
अन्तिम घडीलाई म स्वीकार्छु ।
तर अहिले म तयार छैन,
मलाई हिउँदको रापिलो घाम अझै पुगेको छैन 
आमाको काख अझै प्यारो लाग्छ
मलाई समुन्द्रका छाल हेर्नुछ ।
तिमीले त्यागेका हरेक पल जिउनु छ ।

अँ...हो ।
उसले मलाई अझै लोभ्याउँछ ।
कुनै समय नाङ्गा तार छुन नहिच्किचाएछु भने,
तिम्रो र मेरो भेट समयभन्दा पहिले हुनसक्छ ।।।

Friday, September 4, 2015


‘the details’
do not ask me
my dear.

I did not feel
The breeze playing with my curls
Nor saw forming of komorebi on it.

I did not hear
Chaiwala filtering tea,
just by the corner.
Nor smelt boiling of fresh milk coffee.

The barking of dogs
The tringgg…tringgg…tringgg
Of cycles passing by
Or, the screeching of wheels
Stopping by.

The knocking of heat waves
like a persistent little brother
peeking in my room.
The rolling of sweat drops
on my cleavage.

the stickiness
the saltiness

I did not feel.
Nor see.
Nor hear.

My dear,
I became
a deaf
a blind

to the world outside our periphery.

My eyes
were only touching your lips.
My hands
were busy picking up the words.
that they will scatter in the air
before reaching my ear.

My skin
rejoiced the caress
of your beautiful mind
and heart.

It was first.
I lived that moment.

I was alive.

Friday, August 21, 2015


“I had only a little time left and I didn’t want to waste it on God.”
 Albert Camus

This quote was shared in twitter. It got me thinking.

I am not a religious person. I guess, declaring myself as a non-religious person has more to do with all the violence being done in the name of it. Could be a very surficial understanding but I am unable to go beyond that, as of yet.

Not being religious does not mean I am an atheist. I was raised to believe that there is some supernatural power beyond our realm. It is unfortunate that I have not been able to come out of that belief. I am ‘critical’ of it, here and there, but not trustworthy to call myself as a strong rationalist or ‘science person’.

There are possibilities of me being religious or an atheist, in the future. You never know. So, I am keeping my options open.

But, do I have enough time for this? Let’s say I have the life expectancy of 70. I am going to be 30 soon. So, when I turn these supposed years and passed years into days (25,550 – 10,950) the remaining days I have is 14,600. To make it closer for understanding; let’s convert these days into time which gives me 350,400 hours in total. Now, I sleep average of 7 hours a day which leaves me with lesser time - 248,200 hours. Doing daily humanly necessity stuffs will take at least 20% of it. That means I will have round about 200,000 hours. That is too less for all the things I want to do in my life.

I have to read THE books, read and re-read and re-re-read! Then, keep them in my personal library, safe from dust and insects. Share, if anyone would like to have a look or digest every words that is there to. Talk about all the highs and lows of the books with them. Get drunk on all the knowledge there is to.

I have to write about anything and everything. I have to write something on loving and being loved. I have to write on the sweaty romance, clumsy romance and gutsy romance. I have to write on loss, loneliness and sadness. The bravery, the courage and hope of the human hearts. And then, smell the piles and piles of freshly printed papers already piled on top of the yellowed ones with their own stories to tell.

I want to feel the heart beat fast when meeting the great, inspiring minds. 

I am yet to feel the urgency of pining for oxygen in my body while climbing mountains. I want to know the feeling of drinking deep dark coffee with chocolate while on top of that mountain.

I have to introduce myself to all the woods, by woods, I mean trees. Definitely trees!* I want to know their secret of life-cycle. 

I have to eat the foods that I farmed. The organic one!

I want to record the sounds of wind from all around the world and the space. I want to cross the purgatory and see the heaven, alive. I want to touch the sky, have long conversations with stars and date with moon, every night.

Most of all, I have to master the shamanism and bring peace to the world!

And, this is just the beginning. I have so many desires, aspirations and ambitions to fulfil in my life. How can mere 200,000 hours be enough? Seriously, when I have so short life with so much things that are yet to be done, whatever made you think I would waste it on God? Especially when everyone seems to be fighting over whose ‘imaginary friend’** is better than others.

1.       * Taylor Mali
2.       ** Yashir Araphat

Wednesday, August 19, 2015


This Hebrew word is a noun. It means ‘the deep emotional relationship between people, especially those separated by distance or death’.

When I found this word, today, I was finally able to express my thoughts of how I see relationships in a word. Definitely, it made me really happy.

I love learning. Anything. Tiny things. Infinite things. Everything. So, I always look for new words to learn. It is not every day that I come across the word which takes hold of my heart. Hence, when I found Mizpah in a Facebook, the day became special. Because, the word made me think. And, thinking is something I enjoy the most. It makes me feel alive.

This word. This single word gave me energy to connect myself with loved ones and analyse how I assess my relationships with them. I have always told my family, my closest friends and relatives how ‘I carry them in my heart’ [quoting e. e. Cummings] meaning geography, time and space, hardly matters to me.

So, I hardly feel lonely. I always feel that wherever they are, how far physically they might be, emotionally they are always with me. And, I am with them. This feeling of ‘being together’ keeps me strong and gives confidence to look forward in life.

While this idea of ‘togetherness’ might seem naïve and even in denial of reality to some, for me, it is the best way to deal with it. The reality or the truth of the life is that no one is going to be with you, forever. Nor you can be for them. Different situations and circumstances, choices, inevitable truths will take you away (physically) from your loved ones. But, does the separation, distance or death stops us from having the deepest emotional relationship with our loved ones? I doubt. When you are emotionally very close with someone time and space hardly seems to matter. Even death doesn't take away the feeling you have for the deceased one, does it?

We just get used to live without them, carrying our emotions that have converted themselves into fond memories, pining for them or pain at losing them. But, we always have them in our heart. We are always connected with them, emotionally.

This argument or idea or thought process is closer to me. I strongly believe in it. Maybe because I am an Aries. As an enthusiast of Astrology, I had read somewhere that Aries women are the ones who can live their life, happily, if they know that there is someone somewhere in the world whom they love or care about. For many, it might not feel very practical way to live life but I have realized with my little experience that emotions are all we need to have a happy life. The feeling of being connected to someone deep within the heart is what fulfils us and our life with happiness.

So, this is for Mizpah, the word, that speaks volumes on human emotions.   

Thursday, August 13, 2015

The Lake

In the midst of bullets being fired, 
bloods being shed
found myself by the lake
sitting on the rock
setting sun 
my bare back.
(I am daring, just like that!)

Friday, July 31, 2015

by Sarah Kay


The third time your plane is delayed,
your voice on the phone has melted to a whimper.

I don’t know when we’ll take off,
you say. I’m going back to the desk to ask.
All day, you have been sending me text messages
of puppy love. I can’t wait to kiss you.

I miss the nook of your neck. How strange,
that when you are away, I reach for my

cell phone’s buzz as if it were your hand.
Each shiver in my pocket, a way to find you.

I will see you soon, Love, this morning’s text promised.
And yet now it is night, and you are still lost

in an airport somewhere in Florida, and I am still here,
trying to comfort you through this phone.
I’m okay, you promise. I just wish I was home.
You sigh into the speaker. The static crackles.
In November, a doctor put your dog to sleep.
You didn’t tell me it had happened for the whole day,

because you didn’t want me to worry or be upset.
I didn’t find out until your parents told me, and I reached

for your hand, not knowing what else to do.
I have never had a pet, I do not know this kind of loss.
The quiet of our kitchen does not sound empty to me,
I cannot hear the missing padding of paws on tiles,

the missing pant and rumble of her belly. But the first few times
you came home that week, I did see the way you opened

the front door: the extra moment you waited, the way
your shoulders sank. She was old, you told me.
She din’t get around like she used to. She didn’t
even jumped up when people came in, didn’t run to

bark and greet me at the door. But she was here.
At least I knew she would be here when I got home.
Recently, there have been more airports for the both
of us. Different suitcases and baggage claims, different

time zones and phone calls. My friends roll their eyes
at me when we are out to coffee, and I keep jumping

for my phone. We know, they say. You “have to take
this.” I apologize, excuse myself, check to see that
you are there. Nobody else notices how naked my
hands look. Nobody else thinks the space between

my chin and shoulder seems oddly empty. But I know
what this should feel like. I know what is missing.
At least the buzz of my cell phone fills the quiet.
For now, it will have to do. Until it can be replaced

by the sound of your padding feet and heavy breath,
by the sight of you in the doorway, exhausted and worn,

but finally, finally home.

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

by Alice Walker

It is true--
I've always loved
the daring
Like the black young
Who tried
to crash
All barriers
at once,
wanted to
At a white
beach (in Alabama)

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

for my friend.

You have taught me right.
taught me well.
Life is more,
than living.
That happiness,
is in giving.
That knowledge,
is in sharing.
My friend,
You have taught me well.
You have taught me right.

Thursday, January 22, 2015


...I ask him,
"How difficult is it to be a Man?"
in this society,
in this time.
he looks surprised,
I tell him,
"No, really?"
I am serious.
I wanna know.
is it difficult for you ?
to fit in the box
as it is for me...