Trials and Tribulations by Fire

This post contains a portion of my new story. It shows 03:24 a.m. on my laptop. One would wonder why I am awake at this ungodly hour. I have been awake since 1:30 a.m. Tossing and turning, trying to put my turbulent thoughts to rest. My mind refuses to cooperate today. Today, of all days. It is the beginning of navratri today. In some time, I must be wide awake to usher the goddess into my humble home and perform stringent rituals to propitiate her. Is the goddess listening to me? Or is she not aware of my mental turbulence? I spent three hours thinking about him. Memories hit me like an avalanche on a high altitude mountainous slope. I slid, slowly, softly into its fold. It engulfed my mind then my whole being in its wake. His thoughts came in bursts. I shed a tear or two. I felt ashamed later. Is it right? No no, the question here is not about whether it is right or wrong, the question is why. Why? Why me? Why today, why after all these years? Isn’t it always like

Just finished reading, "Before we visit the Goddess," by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni. I have been a fan of her languid prose and beautiful poetry. She brings to life the three women protagonists:Sabitri, Bela, and Tara, Grandmother, Mother, and Grand daughter. The letter that Sabitri writes to Tara is the strong point for me in this novel stretching from Assam to U.S. The men in these women's lives do have important roles to play but are not given enough standing room by themselves. Be it the CPI(M) student leader Sanjay or the two-timing Robert, they have minimal roles in Divakaruni's land. This novel belongs totally to Sabitri, I feel. Tara and Bela and Bela and Sabitri go through similar strained relationship struggles. I could relate to it so much. I love the way Divakaruni makes you go back and forth to stitch a complete tale. 

Life is... Facing sudden upheavals Dealing with morons Getting drenched in a sudden downpour Admiring a sleeping S Believing in the almighty Letting go  Hanging on to faith Sleeping for some more time on a Sunday Standing up to a bully Loving unconditionally

Suddenly, I have nothing left. To spend my time on. Today, it just ended, I had an inkling, it would. But, I had certainly worked a bit for it. I should have been a bit more careful, but for what, I do not know. Had I been more vigilant, would this have happened? No, I know, it would not have...I am like that no, flippant, careless and sometimes I take things for granted. But, then, few days back I was so distracted, owing to so many things...It certainly affected my writing. One thing I thought I could do well. Looks like, I cant do it while I am asleep, no? In a way it is good, I don't need to break my head over numbers and all anymore. I don't need to worry about working while sulking in Mumbai. Stress free... But, I am feeling a bit bad about being chucked out. But, hasn't that been the case, each time. Rejected...rejected...unwanted...no good. Well, everything seems to be heading that way. Bad or good, I don't know, but this is how it is. High time I focusse

  It is always a matter of time Before the screams start, the anger boils over sprouting a burn Always a matter of a few seconds Takes nothing to trigger lava Lava of tantrums, outbursts, insults Attitude I have I am told, plain speak is what I use Is it the money? Is it the worthiness of the flesh that bites? What is it? Lack of lust or love, the one emotion, anger regains and retains Always a matter of when not how It can be a continuation or a slow build up Lacklustre is the journey, tiring the tirades Materials matter more than human emotions Always a matter of time before dreams are crushed and joys submerged  

That feeling of utter helplessness, downward spiralling joy How much ever you try, you can't shake off or ignore the ever present ghost of the woman It is not about you It is always about what she could and what you cannot, ever Do I care? I don't but does it matter? Yes But not to me. Complicated it is. Am expected to be obsessed over bathroom stains while all I want is to fly away, into the oblivion, spread my wings, with no worries of financial security or rapists on the loose ready to plug the hole... Rules, rules, and more rules. Don't do this, don't do that. Wear a nightie but as soon as you get up in the morning, wear your bra and a pyjama under your nightie. Or better still, get up early in the morning and ensure you dress up like a fucking doll and serve the god. The fucking god who can sleep late because he is tired. The hypocrisy of it all is so fucking maddening that a normal person can just lose it. Is it worth it? Many well-meaning friends aske

From dust we rise and to dust we return, some great man said! Corporates we serve and like corporates we become, is my version. I quit my day job. One fine day, I could not take it anymore and I just quit. The woman who used to be my Manager was thrilled beyond explanation and accepted my resignation before I could spell my name. Sigh! So much for slogging away at that place. Anyway. So, I have been without an identity tag for a couple of months now. I feel free. I am not required to say 'yes mam no mam' to any woman or man. Is it good? I don't know. End of the day, I do not have the pressure to reach some place by a particular time with bated breath and wait for the other person's impression to fuck my life. I am beyond caring now. I am in a stage of my life where I just want to do what I please and how I please.    My days start with the bell. The calling bell which announces the arrival of The Bai, Madame Krishnaveni. She moves around like a broom on fire an

  Went to Singapore for 10 days with the DH. He was going for work. I tagged along. One could write a Behavioural Science tome on the way we both approached the trip. DH approaches everything very clinically. Staid, is how I describe him, mostly. Me, well, less said the better. At the oh-so-lovely Marina Bay Sands, in that huge suite, seated on the sofa, impeccably dressed, DH woefully looked at me as I got ready for my tryst with Singapore. "Will you be ok by yourself?" He asked, for the hundredth time. Irritation rose like bile in me. I curbed it. I recognized concern when I heard it. Concern equals to love, especially for a pure blood Capricorn. I looked at him, went over, gave a sweet peck and said, "Yesss, I will be just fine, don't you worry. Get going, you will get late for your meeting." He looked at me doubtfully, but then, he had no choice. He had meetings the whole day and I could have slipped out without his knowledge or so he surmised.

Finality is a strange companion you see It lets you breathe in the free air just enough to let your spirits soar, not more, not less Finality seems like a far thought, lingering at the horizon, making you seek, yearn When you reach out to reach the state, it vanishes, poof! Finality sometimes gets you into a rhythm of vacillation, uncertainty before it displays its true nature      Finality is also a full stop, not a semi colon Take a turn, stop, or rest.  Finality allows you the respite. It is after all, the End. 

Power surges and ancient cranky desktops Mice around me that refuse to scamper and stare with defiance In the mid-way house, for a week, fortnight, or maybe a month April it is, when the saga will end An outsider, persona non grata, a pariah Words words words, all mean the same The mid-way house provides succor someone said Time slipping fast from my fingers Do this do that see there see here, she said I am still, mind refuses to flit around, heart no longer anxious as earlier The mid-way house it is For as long as the state of my present being doesn’t change