Inclined Chronicles of Indulgence

Source: Google search All I need is ink black; black ink. I want to scribe on a sheet of white. I want to scream from a point of height. But most of all I want my fall. I want to whisper in your ears. I want to linger in your tears. But often I wish I could vanish. Before I wave au revoir to me, the stiff. Again, here we are like a known whiff. But sooner than later I leave the barter. Clock on the wall sweeps mute like the mind on a chute. Hurry! Run! Fetch! And take me to the edge. In the eerie silence of burning candle I shall write the scandal. All I need is ink black; black ink.

Instagram Sitting in the darkest corner of the room lit only by the distant street lights, I practised the laugh I would laugh when he will say something as such, looking at a picture of my past. Reality hit me fast enough, and I withdrew myself midway of a cynical moment of transient happiness. That night, I was mad; my heart was full of anguish, my blood was rushing annoyance. I wanted to tear apart something dear to me and calm down the storm thundering in me. The mirror never looked so calm before. I must have used up all the tears of his share.  I wanted him to say things to me, things that he told umpteen times in the past; only meaning them this time. Like many sorries of the past, I am sure it will be empty this time too. But, I wanted him to say it anyway.   I want you, he should have said.   I need you, he should have confessed. He was magic; black magic. I hate how much he could make me feel and how much he could belittle me. May be t...

Is that all? They say sex is the highest pleasure it is out there. Then why it is so insufficient? An endless line of sex and still it is unfulfilling. It is like a hunger for something you don't know yet and no matter what you eat and drink, it does not satiate.  Sapiosexual, she claimed to be one. She has met men of achievements and ambitions. She is thankful that some men are actually different: they care. Nights have gone by like papers scatter when you let a windy window open. Each paper has been engraved with a story of its own. Yet, they are all gapping into the empty room like they want to suck in more air, more substance. What more could she have typed to make the paper feel satisfied? The papers are so inked! Bodies rubbing against each other, making the winter temperatures rise, aren't settling for just it. They assume one more lap will do it, but it doesn't. The rushing hormones are in no mood to rest and breathe; the hands don't seem to have t...

Till death do us apart... I am asked by a western stranger on a certain dating app if arranged marriage is still prevalent in India. I am lost into thoughts why that is a question.  "All marriages are arranged; sometimes by the individuals, sometimes by others." What is there about it that is so repulsive to people. This is not a question by the westerns, but also to the new generations of India.  Let's break down the process to know it and get a perspective about it. Hmm, so there are two families somewhere with eligible children to get married. They express their concern to the people they think can help about it. If the parents are tech-friendly, they register on marriage websites as well. Somehow, each of the family gets to know about the probable candidate. They visit the family in question to figure out if it may work. Unless a major problem is encountered, the set up is arranged and the two individuals get married.  Hold on! That is not wha...

Navigating through life More often than not, I wish I could walk into the ocean and never return. The waves call me so dearly. They are high and low, soft and swift, blue and white, dark and beautiful. The ocean absorbs the world around it and makes it a part of its own tumult. Every time I tried to be a part of that magnificent piece of water, I was called back by dear ones. Their tearful, callous calls remind me how unaltered their lives will be without me. They fear they will lose me. What sort of fear is that, to be scared of losing something one never had in first place? I would look back, each time, with hopes in my eyes to see more; my ears would be more attentive every next time to hear something that I might have missed the last time. The words, the faces, the looks remain as if time didn't occur to them.  One can be comprehensive of strangers being cold and distant. But people you call your folks, too? May be the tropical country doesn't allow them to be any...

As entangled as Tangled Why do women wear western clothes? VS Let them wear what they want. Let'em wear they want to. VS How can they show their bra straps? What's about the exposing bra straps? VS Let her be without bra. No bra is outrageous. VS Where is her modesty? Take a deep breath. No woman has to explain herself to anyone (women and men) about her modesty, her choice of clothes. If anything is required to be addressed or talked about, it is just why men do not stop themselves about questioning and start accepting women as they are, at least about the physical and behavioural matters.  When you accept something, it is easy to understand it, because you will find yourself on the same side of the barrack. When you will be an insider or one of our own.  It is, honestly, annoying to find people questioning and retaliating in the name of curiosity.  Men. You are as diverse as women. Just that you have a lower threshold for accepting one of y...

Solitude You! Have you forgotten the germination lesson from primary science book? Have you not ever seen a seed germinating into a plant? It takes the utter destruction of the seed itself to produce the tiny seedling in it. The seed coats rupture, the seed leaves fall apart, and then the green peeps out. It does not stop there. The tiny seedling feeds on the seed itself to survive until the roots are strong enough to uphold the plant. In fact, it is the roots that break free first, and thereafter the green is visible.  To someone who does not understand reproduction, germination is absolute destruction.  Hence, let me break apart. Let me hit the ground and scatter around like a piece of glass. Let me be fragmented like I was never whole at all. I need to break till there is nothing left of me to be broken. that is when my scattered pieces will be collected to form a kaleidoscope. Till then, do not rescue me.  When I confess I am depressed, I am off...