sapne bhi pareshaan karne lagey hain aaj kal,

hairaan karne lagey hain.

neendein hi neend udaane lagi hain,

aur khamoshiyan, shor..

Toska

"Toska - noun /’tō-skə/ - Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness.

No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom."

Vladimir Nabokov, cited in A Field Guide to Melancholy by Jacky Bowring

the aftermath of me and you

I suddenly remember your face

From the night you first kissed me

Kissing & smiling alternately

Holding my hand, curling into a ball, wrapping yourself around it

Nailing me to the bed, pouring your kisses on my lips & my neck

Playing my curves like a guitar,

& spinning the world around me

Between resting & waking dreams

So close to me you breath in my exhale.

Its not just the small piece of rhythmic flesh

This heart that beats,

slow & fast, to the symphony of our love making

Its our souls intertwined, drunk & hungry

Just

flesh and bone

blood and hair

nerves and sweat

now all stripped bare

a heaving, gasping, tangled mass

Of love and lust and rage and greed

of want and lack and take and need

the wet and hot and cold and true

the aftermath of me and you

kuch bhi jo achcha lagey

miley bhi..zaroori toh nahi..

sach hai par hai ajeeb..

:(

so my wish came true & i totally behaved like a teenager with you

i sang & danced & swung & romanced, for life seldom gives me such a chance

every saturday u brought me roses & wine, but when you got late, i said 'OKAY FINE' :P

u cooked for me & i only supervised, but u didn't make me french & italian except for the regular sambar & rice :/

we watched bbt & that 70s show, slept after 2 in each other's glow

(& we always ended up doing right things too ;))

we got drunk & fought, and then made love with all that we got

now i know how it worked, it all happened in the parallel universe...

i can't because i won't
and i won't because i can't
















stop loving u

There's a gaping hole inside my chest,

Below my neck and above my breast.

For your cheek and chin, that line was drawn,

A place to rest from dusk till dawn.

Courtsey - Caleb Chovan

Everything eventually ends. Endings are inevitable.

but without you

i shall always be

inconsolable...

You Bring Out the UP-walli In Me  

You bring out the UP-walli in me,
The zari, gota, sitaraa,
The sweet, sweet bataasha,
The lilt of my (m)other tongue,
simmering under these words in me.

I play for you. For the twinkle in your eyes
when I rant in Hindi.
Kya hai.

You bring out the UP-walli in me,
The toe rings and the nose pin in me,
The glitter and the large earrings in me,
The kohl around my eyes in me,
The love of wearing bangles in me,
The folklore and the folk music in me,
The jigar and the beedee in me,
The loud weddings in me,
The raunchy numbers in me,
The beats of dholak, the songs of naughty grannies in me.

You bring out the UP-walli in me.
The love of the epic in me,
The Mahabharat and the Ramayan in me,
The chastity vows and the infinite appetite in me,
The warrior-sage ancestor in me,
The meek minions and the mighty queens in me,
The banished one, the vengeful one, the dark one who rebelled in me,
The woman who had five husbands but loved only one in me.

They say my name means Seeta, daughter of the earth.
You bring out my name in me.

You bring out the UP-walli in me.
The blue neel in me,
the pink mahaawar in me,
the crimson gulmohur in me,
the yellow amaltash in me,
the cactus in me, the crotons in me,
the redolence of Eucalyptus, the scent of henna in me.

For you I’d mulch the mehendi leaves that hedged
our government bungalow in Jhansi.
For you I’d paint my palms and
I won’t complain.

Wild roses in Ranikhet,
Empty fireplaces in Benaras,
The smell-less smell of a desolate Noida fog,
The fragrance of raat ki raani in Karbi.
Like all these, I long for you.

Come sit on the floor beside me.
Eat kaddoo curry with soft kachauris
laid out on plates made of dried leaves.
Dip your finger in the yogurt to stir the boora,
Make love to me with our fingers sticky sweet,
Say hum when you mean I,
I’d raise my skirts and let you in,
caress you with fumes from the dhoop batti
that used to be lit every dusk
in my Nani’s house,
and pat you to sleep.

Come. Call me jaan, or raaje.

You bring out the UP-walli in me,
The surprise of heeng in hot daal in me,
The shock of ghee sizzling with whole, red chillies in me,
The bite of raw ginger sprinkled on aloo-gobhi in me.
The sepia dust storms in me,
The mango orchards in me,
The tales of dacoits and bandits in me,
The bhaiyya complex in me,
its self-deprecatory humour
but the hidden pride in me.

I play for you. For your gritted teeth and
shut eyes when I move over you.

You’re the only one I’d allow to call me Raani,
You're the only one I'd let overtake the kitchen,
Bring me breakfast in bed,
And sometimes wine.

You bring out the UP-walli in me.
The proud grandfather and the generous parents in me,
The love of literature in me,
the scholar in me, the nerd in me,
the wannabe Anthropology intellectual in me,
the show-off-I-got-100-out-of-100 in me,

You’re the one I spin these yarns for,
At 4 am,
Overworked and sleep deprived.
Let me show off to you.

You bring out the UP-walli in me.
Hand pump water with a tang of metal in me,
Sugarcanes eaten on terraces
In dusty villages in me,
(hard teeth around firm flesh bursting with sweet in me),
Sugarcane juice running down my elbow in me,
The sexual innuendo in me.

The hot-white glare of the Taj Mahal,
The thick walls of the Jhansi fort,
The withered wooden door of my gaon house
Complete with iron knockers in me,
All nestled in me, marinating and
Roasting in me, always torturing me,
Never letting go of me.

Of naked feet on hard,
Cool, stone floors,
Of air coolers, of khus-khus
In summers,
Of peeling walls that smelt of wet earth
When sprayed with a hose,
Of blistering boulders with a whiff
Of heat.

You remind me of all these.
The forgotten, pushed away,
Hidden parts of me,
The lekin and the agar in me,
The abey and the oye in me,
The ab to ho gaya in me.

You bring out the UP-walli in me.
Let me love you.
(You do.)
Let me show you.
(Kyunki)
You do. Yes. You do.

:)

i wish i were two, i'd totally behave like a teenager with you

i'd sing & dance & swing & romance, for life seldom gives you such a chance

every saturday u'd bring me roses & wine, but when you'd get late, i'd say 'OKAY FINE' :P

u'd cook for me & i only supervise, u'd make me french & italian except for the regular sambar & rice :P

i'd like to watch bbt & that 70s show, sleeping before 2am would be a strict no no

(but we'd sleep by 1:59 coz nothing right happens after 2 ;) )

then we'd get drunk & totally fight, i'd beat u up with all my might

if u'd like to know how this works, it all happens in the parallel universe

(& i'm dancing in all of them :) )