The Ghost- a girl’s best friend

It’s been a couple of months since she visited. It was very often initially- everyday almost, then it reduced to about twice a week and then she vanished for a month without leaving a trace of where she had gone. I missed her. I cannot lie. I missed her cold touch and her visions, as weird as it may sound. Somewhere deep inside the mesh … Continue reading The Ghost- a girl’s best friend

The Ghost contd…

Introduction:   A guy I once had a thing with had accused me of being heartless; had said: “You feed off pain, yours, mine and everyone else’s. That is the food for your poetry and prose; the nectar to your hive.” I don’t disagree with him. I am no preacher and neither do I pretend to be something holier than thou. I am just a … Continue reading The Ghost contd…

The Ghost

The bespeckled therapist gave me a puzzled look. She asked—anger at what child? Anger at what? At who? Why anger? Why not tolerance? “If I knew that I wouldn’t be here”. I am an expert at being rude and unpleasant when the situation demands it. There was a ghost in my life. The clinical term for it is ‘dysthymia or chronic depression.’ It had haunted … Continue reading The Ghost

Phutphuti

Phutphuti was like any other girl in the neighbourhood. She had her hair neatly oiled and tied up in two braids on either sides of her head. Her skirt was perpetually below her knees and she was always running away from her mother. On many a hot afternoons when the sun would pierce your skin and you could feel invisible ants biting your soul, you could … Continue reading Phutphuti

The Satin

I remember it hurt. Looking at her hurt. She looked at me through the clouded glasses as she tried to stop the tears from falling on the expensive satin of the dress. She was a vision in midnight blue. Her strawberry blonde curls were neatly pinned up in a bun. But one stubborn lock fell on her left cheek. Her nose resembled a ripe tomato … Continue reading The Satin

Girl on the bus

I never thought I would actually see her in real. Yes, she did dominate my imaginary world at one point in time. There were dreams—when awake and asleep both, and in those dreams I had lived this situation a million times. I had played it over and over in my head like a song that is stuck on loop. I thought I was prepared for … Continue reading Girl on the bus