Tuesday, March 20, 2012


2:00 am. Bhusawal station. Drenched empty roads. She stepped out, into a puddle. Her tears mingled with the raindrops. Her red stilettos. Her precious stilettos. Fuck him, she said as she turned back. And there he was, killer smile and all. Relieved, she fell into him, like paper to flame.

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Spin a Yarn

“Please stop. Please stop now. Yes. Yes. Oh!” He gazes at me, and sighs. This is not fair at all. This is not supposed to happen. He looks around, at the excited eyes, fixated on his hand. He gives me another lecherous look, and spins again. And I realize how much I hate Spin-the-Bottle.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Of Colors and Letters

Book Antiqua, Garamond, Monotype Corsiva. Taking out her fountain pen, she finally wrote the letter in long hand. She thought about the flowers. Red, Purple, Yellow. The colors of the bruises. The colors of the flowers he brought her afterwards. Nobody will ever buy me flowers again, she smiled.

Monday, March 12, 2012

Anonymous Marriage

Stunned. Breathless. He stared at his monitor for the longest time. This can’t be true, he murmured, feeling the hollowness in his own belief. Six years. Every single detail. Duly recorded. He believed his marriage to be a happy one, till he found the anonymous blog.

Sunday, March 11, 2012


It was my best friend’s bachelorette party. Champagne, chocolates, lingerie. And the hottest stripper ever. Satin black shirt. Musky cologne. Broad shoulders. Sexy hips. Women drooled all over him. His eyes flirted with mine. He took my hand. And held me close. And that kids, is How I Really Met Your Father.

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Rimjhim Gire Saawan...

2008. Lonavala. Torrential Rains. Overflowing dam. They sat on the edge. Laughing. Deliriously happy. Having found this time alone. Rimjhim Gire Saawan.. she sang. And then she slipped. Into the dam. He screamed. He cried. He fled. Today shadows often dance on the dam. On quiet nights. And the breeze hums, Rimjhim Gire Saawan..

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

The Finger!!

Her fingers moved furiously, while she concentrated on his lips. Emotions flared. Words flew. The argument intensified. How do you sign ‘I am sorry’, he tried to recall. And then she showed him the middle finger. They both burst into laughter. Sign language or not, some actions are very clear.