Trials and Tribulations by Fire

A cry within… I cry and I roll Don’t understand the language of the soul I come out with daylight flashing With the struggle and battle within I whine and cry to welcome life outside Thou I think life was comfortable inside Yet it’s a belief But not a relief That I have been born to live again Not knowing what I shall gain But growing was fun There was so much of sun Strangely there is so much of time in childhood That seems to go amiss in manhood To appreciate life and beauty of nature That seems to disappear with manhood stature Yet we live in hope That we can cope With the vagaries of nature And it will not affect our stature As we are special and different Only to find out that nature is indifferent But childhood is glorious It is so spontaneous Where life can never go wrong Life is always a song We just need to find the rhythm Of what it is to feel freedom When one could do whatever they want With no fear of any taunt When one does not have to hea

Sara scrubbed and scrubbed. She stepped back to admire her handiwork. The tiles on the bathroom were shining. She was not very satisfied, it had to shine like a mirror, the woman had instructed. Sara kept going at it, scrubbing the tiles. A sharp shooting pain made her wince. She sat up to catch her breath, thinking, the pain will go away if she took a break. But the worm in her head kept egging her on, prodding her to keep scrubbing. The woman had gone on out, Sara had to clean the toilet before the woman returned. Else, the woman would not allow Sara to have her lunch. After half an hour, Sara stood up, carefully, holding her eight month old pregnant belly, and admired the tiles. They were shining. The woman would be thrilled. Sara was sure. The door bell rang. Sara walked carefully to let the woman in. The woman walked in and grumbled about the dirt on the shoe rack and threw her slippers inside the shoe rack, ensuring she dusted her footwear on the clean surface. She glared at

Due to certain circumstances, I had the privilege of watching a movie called Jism 2. Produced by Pooja "Fish-Mouth" Bhatt and Dino Morea, in the end, I closed my laptop, wondering what got into me for watching such crap. Certainly, I could do some productive work than watching Sunny "Porn Star" Leone's debut movie. Amazing! Apart from kicking myself for having given into the urge to watch this ultra cheap flick, I even had the time to comment on Randeep Hooda's performance. Seriously, I am still wondering the guy must be going through such bad times that he had to sign such a film. Yes, being good to the Bhatts would do him some good, now that Sush has adopted so many kids, none his or theirs, he has no bed to warm, he has to get into Sunny's pants to keep his kitchen fires burning. Sigh. The sad plight of such yummy looking men makes me very sad. My rating: If you are a Randeep Hooda fan, watch it, else miss it. 

A short story Growing up in India: A Princess and Her King A man is playing soulful Shehnai on a raised dais. The guests linger near him, glasses in hand, and move on, when they recognize familiar faces. Smiles stick to their carefully made-up faces, some noses corrected, some jaws fixed. The man plays on, unmindful of the audience. I wonder if he is even bothered about them. I guess not. I can smell money everywhere. After all money is the common denominator here, in the Opal Room of the only Seven Star hotel in the nation. The venue is decked slightly less than the bride, which is me, Her Highness Kunwar Rani Meena Singh. The ubiquitous HH finally got hitched to my name. After such a long wait, I deserve it too. It is eight thirty. The reception will go on till nine thirty, an hour more. Then I will get to retire to my suite to consummate my wedding. My new husband, the King of Jhuggarpur, His Highness MahaVikramidtya Pratap Singh is looking dapper in his imported suit

The time was 6:30 p.m. Sachin saw her going to the pantry to fill water in her big green bottle and he came by, to bitch.  Sachin: "She is staying back?"  Me: "I guess so, why do you ask?"  Sachin with a smirk and a snort: "She can afford to stay back, you know, with that face, who will want to mess with her."  Me: "Sachin, you cant be so mean ya."  Sachin: "oh c'mon, do you think any man would look at her and feel even like harassing her? She would have to pay a man to do this."  Me: "Shoo Sachin. I am leaving for the day."  Sachin:"Ok bye bye."  This conversation is real and took place last evening. It shocked me a bit. It brought to light the perception of beauty that educated men have about women who are not that great looking.  The woman in question, Latha (yeah with an 'h'), is a not so good looking, slightly obese woman with oil perpetually dripping from her hair. Thank god she d