Unfurling...

Shanaya woke up. Startled. He was nowhere to be seen. It took her a while to realise that they weren't together anymore. A series of images flashed through her mind. She had a weird way of defining what love was. It was when his hand strayed to her plate, to grab that string of cheese or carrot. It was when he knew when she wanted to eat a chicken pizza. It was when he woke her up to tell her to open the door. It was when she knew he wanted ice candy and found it in her grocery bag. Small things. 

Then he left. And it was like someone seizing a pool float from an amateur swimmer. Creaking memories, like water, gushed into her ears and nose. Crazy ones. Bitter ones. Loving ones. He was her father. He has filled in that void, and treated her like a princess. Once in a while, she wondered why he wouldn't make that cup of tea or lay a Spanish omelette on a bed of soft bread. But that was him, and she loved him unconditionally for what he was. He knew he would fall back and land up on her lap. 

Once the separation, she felt that lack, a lack that could never be filled up. It had been a while that someone held her tight, brushed her hair and told her that everything would be alright. She wouldn't step into the pool anymore, because she'd forgotten how to love someone who's not him. She'd rather sit back comfortably on a pool chair and watch the others have fun. Tethering on the edge of insanity, she wondered if it’d be better to let go or hold on...

This is my entry for the HarperCollins–IndiBlogger Get Published contest, which is run with inputs fromYashodhara Lal and HarperCollins India.

Straight & Sexy!

Rapunzel has inspired me to have those long, flowing tresses since childhood. The fascination, sadly, came true only in my early twenties. Thanks to my darling mother, I've always had to flaunt the Lady Diana haircut which clashed horribly with my features.

The texture of my hair is wavy, which made me do crazy experiments to reach out to the other two extremes - curly and straight. It was fun to put down the toothbrushes of the entire family on the dressing table and curl my locks one at a time. 

However, more than curls, I longed for straight hair. Enrolling for a permanent straightening session was out of question! My friends told me to slip those bunches into notebooks before sleeping, but that was too uncomfortable. Moreover, the notebook was somewhere else in the morning. Then something struck me. My straightener was in my own house - the pressing iron!

That has been my craziest, whackiest and wildest idea so far, apart from the application of eggs and coconut milk. One has to try it under supervision, though; else you might just burn yourself! Take a thin towel and place a bunch of hair under it. Take a light weight pressing iron and run it over the bunch. Spruce up with a dollop of glimmer shine gloss or a serum. Make sure you don’t try this too often :)

Trance

A spiritless morning

Sinking in an oversized quilt

Misty windows

I turn towards your side

My fingers running

On fresh linen sheets

You don’t sweep my hair

To gaze at my smooth neck

To mark your territory

My curvaceous waist

Unblemished. Untouched.

Nights, no more a silken soirée

Smudged kohl contours

I wear a smile

And dive into Adrienne’s wreck

Injecting the anesthesia

Of limitless work

Time blends with seasons

Coffee blends with nicotine

Scotch blends with ice cubes

I panic.

I lost the master key

Under the sheets

It’s already midnight

I remember the words

Of fairy Godmother

I fly down the staircase

Like a helpless bird

Separated from its flock

I suddenly realise 

That there’s no returning

The prince won't come

With my crystal shoe

I was never wearing one.

Perils of Amnesia

Breeze.
Breeze that made my hair tickle your face
Blush-turned-irritation
Love-ridden air pushing me off the cliff
A dagger in my back
A self-fulfilling prophecy
I dive into the wreck
No, not quicksand
Because it feels good
Mysterious topography
Unknown terrains
I venture deeper
I splash in mesmerizing emerald waters
Unaware of the venom of black
It pulls me down
Vision blurs
My tongue touches the roof of my mouth
I taste death
I move against gravity.