Sleep

I sleep, sleep and sleep
Until I sigh
Mourning the death
Of the time that I killed
As it quietly passed by
From under my nostrils

Water Wall

Slowly but surely I had started moving towards the tides. They were soaring high above the surface of the ocean - wild, gushing, frothing, white, salty tides. They looked like a child drowning in water and screaming for help. The water is determined to devour it while the poor being is jumping out every time against a liquid support defying the rules of gravity. (What could the fear of death bring out of a man?) His hands flutter in the air like a balloon being deflated. It seemed as if the waves are stuck by a gluey bond to sea level. Every time a wave would attempt to fly out of the sea's clutches and touch the sky, the glue would bring it down.

They were so many – hundreds, thousands, all attempting to flee from the clutches of the devil and embrace the sky. But the devil was stronger. He pulled them down, each one of them with a force stronger than theirs. He was much elder to them, much older too. Fretted and exasperated, tired and lonely, the waves would give up by the time they reached the shore. They would fall flat on their bellies and give in to the force of the sea who would strike them against the sands of the shore, or sometimes the rocks of the mountains.

I was watching it all with a tinge of bitterness inside me. I was feeling guilty - the kind I usually feel even when I step on someone's foot in a train or crush an ant. This time, I thought, there was bigger reason and I was bound to feel guiltier. And so I was.

I had just bid goodbye to her and hung up the phone. No, I didn’t do it stone-heartedly. I took all the care I could. Normally, when I take such care, I tend to go a bit overboard doing things which are not necessary. But then to save myself from the wrath of the consequential guilt, I gave to do those things which assure me of a guiltless future. That irritates her and I feel guiltier for doing so. This time however, I didn’t do any of it. Still, I felt the guilt.

She doesn’t like it when I try to patch things up dishonestly. Even I don’t like it - because she doesn’t like it. This trait is with me since my childhood. I think I have inherited it from my dad. I didn’t know I had this until she made me realise it. Her constant discontentment with me when I erred and tried to make up, brought before me another aspect of my personality. There are many other things about myself which she taught me. But let’s concentrate on one thing at a time.

I was putting forth a theory which was about to seperate us forever. But I was feeling ashamed. Even at such an important juncture, I couldn’t maintain my pride, my self-esteem and went on to justify my action. Of course I was doing the right thing by saying a bye to her. She deserved it. There was no need to justify it or give any explanation for it She wasn’t disloyal to me or any such. She loved me. But not as much as I loved her, love her.

For the past two years, I had lived my life in the shell of an illusion. She was that illusion – an illusion that was real, two thousand miles away from me. It was like a water wall against which I rested not realizing that one day I may drown in it. But I was ready for it. I was ready to do whatever it takes to make her mine. She also knew it. But she could not respect my desire. And so she did not. But I did not give up. I kept on coming up with different ways to rise into her a desire to make it happen. She never complied. She just knew it that it was not going to happen. And I kept on trying.

She had her own limitations. She loved me but she loved her folks more. I remember her saying so once. She had added, “I am asking you to sacrifice me. I could have asked my mother too. But it’s easier to demand from people closer to you.” I had not replied. I believed in what she said but the thought of being a martyr made me doubt her last line. I knew then that no matter what I do, she is going to succumb to her parental pressure. But she did so with elegance, with pride and without a sense of guilt. She knew she was hurting me and bringing down all that I put together to ground zero. She also knew that by that time I had already drowned in the water wall. I don’t think it did not matter to her. But she never showed it. She always behaved as if she was doing the right thing and that I will have to be the scapegoat of the entire situation. I wondered how she did not feel guilty. Or did she feel and not show it?

I couldn’t understand why was it so necessary for me to show my guilt and then be sorry for it. It never seemed necessary for her. And I have always envied her for this. She possesses this uncanny knack of carrying off anything under the cover of her elegance. I lacked it. I am a lousy creature who feels guilty even for the good things happening around him. But I had decided to get rid of it. And so I called her.

I said I didn’t want to talk to her anymore. I had tried all my options and was left with nothing to experiment. I said on her face that her non-readiness to comply with me has made me arrive on this decision. I made it sound as if somewhere, somehow she was responsible for all this. She knew it. And she accepted it – elegantly. Not a tinge of guilt was displayed. I reiterated, “I don’t want to be a martyr MonaLisa.” I hope she understood what I meant. But I am sure she didn’t. She quickly responded, “I would always want to talk to you. I don’t want you to go away from me. But if you are sure you want to do it, its entirely your decision.” I couldn’t stand the latter half. How can someone be so selfish? She was not ready to compromise her limitations with my, rather our expectations. I concluded I had to strike the hammer. I said coldly,” Well, in that case that is my decision.” I hoped for some divine emotional interference. I wished I had not said so – the guilt you see. And before she could say anything I went on to explain why it was necessary on my part to do it. I presented before her all the logical and emotional reasons. But I did that like a criminal brought for a trial, with that same old guilt inside me. Throughout my ten minute long speech, I wished she would empathise with me. My wish wasn’t granted. On the contrary, I heard a bold voice, “As you wish.” The ‘you’ was stressed more than ever. She had done it again. She never ceases to defeat me in my purpose. She seems to know what I want and deliberately keeps it to herself. But I had to win. I said, “Bye”. This time she complied. And we hung up.

If I had to lose this battle, I would have called her back and begged for mercy. I would have said sorry to her a million times. I would have also felt sorry for hurting her. But my own voice echoed in my mind, “I don’t want to be a martyr.” I felt like a winner, only for a while.

As I stepped on the sand and it crushed beneath my feet, something itched me in my heart. I knew this was going to happen. After taking all the measures to make her understand my plight and then presenting a logical, acceptable solution to her was still going to press me under the burden of my guilt of doing something against her favour – of hurting her, of leaving her. ‘I had already drowned in her water wall. Now I was being disloyal to it’, I felt.

I kept walking towards the tides. Remnants of some died waves washed my feet. I watched them recede into the sea, into its ‘water wall’. None of them ever showed their face to the open sky. The ones who were leaping now were the newborns. I suddenly seemed to know what was in store for them. They too were meant to strike the shore and dissolve into the water wall. None of them emerged again. No rebirths allowed. There is no way out of the water wall.

This sudden realization made me want to smile. I was relieved by the fact of knowing for once, what was in store for me. But I couldn’t smile. As I walked into the sea, my eyes stayed fixed onto the leaping tides. The sand beneath my feet was sloping steeply. Some half-died waves gushed past me – lost, angry. I managed to smile at their plight through the water entering my mouth as I opened it. I heard the hum of the ocean for a last time before my ears went under the water. All I could now hear was the silence. As I kept walking deeper and deeper I realised I had already become a martyr. My own voice was echoing in my mind, “There is no way out of the water wall.”

Bourgeois

I curse the naive, ugly currents
That fill the gullible veins
Of insecure minds

They penetrate my senses
With sharp lacklustre
Leaving charred patches
Of grey and black

Switching on and off
Jumping in and out
Scurrying to and fro
Fearless, I slander them
Fearful, I recoil

I still havent tasted
The honest, white sweat
Glimmering down my brow
Free of the salt
That savours my food.

Eternal Hunger

Deep, dark, dear hunger
I paint on you the cause of my plight
As responsible as you are
Never do I blame you
For you are meant to be there
Your purpose-you can't explain!

I ask you - Oh! The creator
Of my mind, my soul, my being
And of the hunger, the thirst, the longing -
I ask you nothing - What should I?
And how do I?

For you may kill the poor hunger,
The thirst, the quench, the search,
Those are solely th cause of my being,
I lose them & I am lost -
The thick, white frost -
Then engulfs me, eats me and digests...
My present, remnant soul
Would then perish & my dear friend termed a ghoul...

Oh! Forget it - I will sustain
For the search that never finds me.
Your gift I rely on - Time
It waits for nothing they say
I lend my hand to carry me along.

Burnt Blood

He is sitting in his chair
His favourite place of despair
And he thinks and thinks and thinks
Of the blood around him that stinks

His fingers marching on the keyboard
Watch his sleepless eyes sored
In a distant screen that's empty from behind
And how the creator has been kind

Clueless as hell as he sits
His butt boils in the bottom in bits
Moving himself a li'l bit
He thinks again of the same old shit

Tapping his feet to the drums
That beat in his ears, he comes
To a hault when he looks around
To measure the futility by a headcount

And then he imagines a dead pang
That blocks him of the time that stang
For an instant before he returns
To the blood from bites and char from the burns.

भित्रं आभाळ

काळोखाच्या चादरीखाली
नभ अजुन जागंच होतं
टक्क डोळे उघडे टाकुन
शांततेच्या शोधात होतं...

मनात वादळ माजलेलं
दोन-चार गावं उजाडलेली
अन शे-दोनशे शवं - वादळानं पछाडलेली!

एक दिवा मात्र
खांबावर एकटच लटकत होता - फाशी दिलेल्या कैद्याप्रमाणे,
वादळाच्या भोअवर्यात त्याचा प्रकाश
अधनं-मधनं माझ्यापर्यंत सटकत होता.

रात्र अशीच ओसरली...

उजाडलं तेव्हा,
वाकलेल्या खांबावर
दिवा खालीवर झुलत होता
विझलेला...
पण नभाकडे खुणावत होता...

नभ दमल्यासारखं वाटत होतं
एका अनामिक ओझ्याखाली
खंगल्यसारखं वाटत होतं,
एक दोन संतत धारा
नकळत बरसत होतं,
अवजड ढगांचा काळा थवा तेव्हा,
मला जवळच असल्याचं भासत होतं.

Receding Droplets

The best autumns fade
With the rust clinging to the rails
And green memories
Swaying freely under the blue sky

Time hides itself under vapour
Seeped in through the cracks
In a weary dial

Creepers hanging from the branches
Kissing the ground beneath in its mouth
Exchanging gathered salivas
In the confines of muddy puddles

A dark cloud sails over
Once in a while
Its shadow crusing ahead
Regardless of the contours
And the stupid folk following it
Stumble and fall, Rise and run
Stumble and run, Fall and rise
Until it climbs the mountain to reach the other side
And the stupid folk turn back to expect more

And the stupid folk... Look more stupid!

Selling Yourself

Drop down the robes
Emitting sunshine,
Concealing desperation
And stand naked
In front of the mirror

What does it say?
Does it talk to you?
Are you listening
Or more interested in gazing at yourself?
Admiring your shapes?
Their developments over the years?
Admiring your beauty?
That you collected
Like stones thrown at you?

Oh! You found your best feature?
You are delighted.
You think they are the ones that get noticed?
But
You forget you are noticed after them
You are hidden behind their existence.
You are forgotten until they are forgotten.

Now you know...
You are not you until they are you...

Mortal Beliefs & Immortal Artistic Sense

Why does it happen
That an artist
So finds himself alone
In a routinely world
Driven by insecurity
Where everyone strives to
Build secured walls
Satisfying necessitites
Ignoring soft truths
Adapting to the hard ones
Indulging in non-sense
Trying their might to
Make sense out of it -
Sense, which they are
Ignorant about
And when he tries
To explain to these mortals
The real meaning of sense -
Sense, which for him
Is the immortal truth
He is always questioned
About his common sense?

याला काय म्हणावं...

एक कविता ऎकणार?
ऎकु नकोस जा
पानं पुसत शिकरण खा
जेवायला या
यायच्या आधी या
मग जा
मज्जा
फुस्स्स्स्स्...
गुडुप्प झाले...
उडुप्प झाले
आणि शेवटी उडुपी झाले
उडुपी साले
माजलेले
हुह!
म्हणॆ फक्कड
आहे का रोक्कड?
पसरायचे भोकाड
आणि काय?
भलत्याचा नाद
त्यात ऊल्टा पाय
मग काय?
आज काय अन उद्या काय!
बोम्बाबोम्ब, फाटक्यात पाय!
कालचा गोंधळ बरा होता?
आज घ्या सोटा
आणि ऊद्या लोटा
काय म्हणता अजोबा?
ऊद्या आहात का जिवंत?
का रोजच्यासारखेच मरणार?
आज जगुन घ्या
ऊद्याचं पाहु...
आणि हो... परवा पोहे!
आज शिरा...
ऊद्या वडा...
काला घोडा
उन्हात टेढा
काळ्या, ऊभ्या, आडव्या रेघा
ऊल्टा लेंगा
पाचवे बटण
अर्धा दोरा
काळी सुई
टक्कल पडेल
तर शिवुन मिळेल
आणखी काही?
साबुदाणा उद्या
चहा प्यालात?
पैशे टाका
मोजत बसलात
तर मोजणार कधी?
मोजे घाला
मग मोजा...
नाही नाही, उद्या माझी रजा
ऊगाच डोक्याल त्रास
त्यात श्रावण मास
खेळंच खल्लास
हे काय?
चक्क फस्ट कल्लास?
भगवा पेढा
गडकरी रंगायतन
धन, तन, मन
जंतर मन
जन गण मन
न्यायाधीश महोदय
ऊद्या सुट्टी आहे
कालचा गोंधळ बरा होता
कल हो ना हो
ऊद्या पहा
साडे नऊ वाजता
चित्रहार
सॊरी, रिन चित्रहार!

MOTHER

Where is my mother?
Probably on the hill
Probably down the valley
I see the sun going down
I see my shadow stretching
It is infinity, the sun is lost
Mother runs to me
Holds me tight
My face pressed
Against her breasts
She is looking
To where the sun sank
I become big,
I grow tall
Mother on her knees
Is holding my legs
I lift her up
Up in my arms
I carry her
To put her to bed
She closes her eyes
I soothe them
She has a faint smile
And I drop dead

Celestial Equivalence

Congregations of opinions
Surround an unstable void
Marring its depth
Making it shallow
Enough
For the consequences
To bounce back
Instead of devouring them
And letting them churn in the depth
To emerge with originality.

But the universe is not straight
So they say
And bodies attract & repel
So says Newton
(Why didnt they kill him
Before he was born?
Why did the Apple fall?)
And so we have
Actions & reactions
And reactions which
When considered actions
Generate further reactions
And so on it extends
And also expands
In every possible direction
Is this why they say
The Universe is expanding?

And now let me talk
About the intellectual space
The most intangible
World on Planet Earth
Intellects are bodies
And forces are emotional
And mind is the Sun
Or rather a star
And innumerable stars
Constitute Our World
And generations propose
Newer Theories and present Papers
Eradicating earlier beliefs
Eroding traditions
And followers of the classical
Disregard it
And a conflict arises

It functions so synchronous
To the astronomical space
I wonder whether
Newton had any idea
Of what he was proposing
And if so,
I want to know,
That if everything is
A reaction of one kind,
What was the original action?
And how long would I have to wait
To see the End of the World
With the last reaction
When the Universe reaches its limit,

If any...?

Run Like Hell

Run Run Run
To the end of the world

Run into the flames
To get burned

Run into the blades
And get cut

Run to yourself
And far away... From the indulging self

Run into mama's womb
Dive into the blood

Run into the space
And don't worry for any place... Which you might not get here

Run for your life
And land in the netherworld
Run for your death
And end with a birth

Run for the sake of self
And be a selfish thorn
Run for the sake of anon
And win accolade for a marathon

Run until no one can catch you
Run until they realise you are too far
Run until you realise you are alone
Run until you know you are no more running

Run for the run
Never to stop the run
Run to be never stopped
Run to be never overrun

Run to be there first
Run ahead before the second and third reach there
They make a crowd... Run away from the crowd

Either run or be loud
Loud enough to get noticed
And run away from the notice
They may throw you out
Run before you are out

And get out in the open sky
Under the earth, Over the sky
And run and run and run until you fly
Under the earth, Over the sky!

Water(2007)...An empty Bubble! My review of the film

An awaited fireball
Falls through the sky
I rush to catch it
Before the flame could die

I had been told
By the Gods who knew
That the dawn was coming
For the sky beheld skew

The hue was set
Apt for the arrival
Since it had went through much
Struggling for survival

The moment had come
And it was time to rise
If it did not hold your breath
You won’t be enough wise

For it had all the red
That the eye possibly sees
It seemed a firm pressed shirt
Without a crease

I couldn’t resist
I couldn’t hold
I begin to dig in
Me, being the strong and bold

I went on digging
And am still not sure
Whether I am at the crust
Or I have found the core

I find myself hanging
In an empty fireball
Is this what they think
Is dark, handsome and tall?

You... the Uncertain!

Possibly this could be another fate of mine
Directed towards certainty

I keep on walking in a desert
Against the blowing wind
Sand in my hair, Sand in my eyes
Paralysing my sight
Sand-studded, me glowing bright!

I wake up one morning
To find myself on a bed
Surrounded by depths of space
Infinitely deep...
I hang myself beneath the bed
Contemplating... whether I should let go

I sit still at the base of a pond
Silence humming in my ear-drums
And I breathe - Water
Choking my nose, Choking my throat!
Life calls... And I budge to swim
Only to realise I am a statue
Already dead...waiting to dissolve.

I fuel the fire of my desires
With you...
And when I find it extinguishing
I step right into the pier
To burn with the wound of your absence.

I dig into the earth
A space enough to bury me
I lie in there... staring up
Waiting for you to cover me with soil
Expecting to be suffocated
Under the auspicious cover of your hands.
But you refuse again
And I continue to lie...

Possibly this could be another fate of mine
Directed through all the elments
Towards you
Directed through certainty
Towards the uncertain...

A Wandering Soul

A wandering soul
Often misleaded
In the fury of its anonymous passions
Or should I say impatience?
Digresses
Into an inflaming world
Itching its heart -
A place where it fails to reach
Once drifted...

Its hard to take controlof the uncontrollable
In a situation
Forced by destiny
Which for him
Is a blinking disbelief

Yet it believes
That their would be a day
When the sun would rise for him
But he fears
If its the west
Where he is facing

With emotion in its eyes
And belief in the unreal
And unexpected future
It forgets about the east
Conveniently

And extends its hands
Backwards
To sense the known and non-existent
Hand of love
Invain...

Exhausted it sits down
Head between knees
Losing it all

It is then that love emerges
From within
Surounds it
And rotates
The Earth...
The rising sun
Cuts through the haze
And the soul is caught
In a gaze
It has long forgotten...

Its hands
Stretch to catch it
When it senses
The engulfment
Of its self
In the solar energy of an emotion called - LOVE

The wandering soul
Then disintegrates
In a single fragment
And drops down
On the palm of the ever expected
To seek Eternal Solace

Airport

This airport at this hour
Leads me to the day
When you came out from the same gates
Today that moment, my heart awaits!

I see myself in those crowds
Rising to catch a glimpse of you
A war that the crowd rages
For those who are unseen for ages.

I fought the war, I won the war
I led myself to the edge of the bar
That was the only one now, who ran across
Between us, Gathering no moss.

But what could ever restrict my gaze
Swaying your silky hair from the distance
I wait here in the agony of the pain
That I can't see you coming out again!

यकीन नहि, उम्मीद सही ।

तु नही, तेरा साथ नही
मैं नही, कोई बात नही
तु नही, तेरी याद सही
तुझसे मेरी मुलाकात नयी ।

बिखरे बिंब, कांच वहीं
छोटी लंबी हाथोंकी
ऊंगलीयां पांच वही ।

फूल नही, पंखुडी सही
कांटोंके साथ
तेरी याद जुडी हुईं ।

आज नही, कल सही
पर तु मेरी गझल वही
बोल मत पर सुन सही
रोक के मेरी सांस वही
दिल ने आख्ररी यह कहीं
मेरी रूह के बीच कही
तु रही, सिर्फ़ तु रही ।

भले...

भले असेल तिथला चंद्र तुझा
अन तारे तुझे सवंगडी
पण सूर्य माझा शक्तिशाली
तळ्पेल त्यात तलवार खडी

भेदत असतील तुझे उसासे
शब्द्फ़ेकीच्या पोकळीला
चल पाहूया ब्र तुझा
टिकतो का माझ्या आर्त किंकाळीला

Selfish

I fight for air
Alone throughout the dare
Missing a heart to breathe
I am a cart to carry death

Uneven contour, up and down
It's me, who's playing the clown
Blood darkens, becomes brown
Into sadness' deepest, yes I drown

Kill Me...

A triangular void
Enclosing my pain
Inflaming the skies
Down pours the rain

An incomplete hope
Still glitters dark
A virtue of helplessness
Ever ready to attack

Shuddering pieces of memory
About to explode
In the stomach of a volcano -
Their final abode

Erect as I stand
On this futile land
Head down and outstretched hands

Would something more
Severe than the death whore
Suffice me and then kill
More brutally than death's own will?

Hopeless Self

I am a dishonest man
Dishonest son
A dishonest partner
With an honest passion
To be dishonest with myself

I doubt myself
In the void of others' expectations
And wonder
Why ain't I honest
At least with them?

And I continue
With my feeling of hopelessness
To conquer the world
Which I hope is conquerable...

My crudest poem...

Push yourself a little harder

I ask for little

I don’t want more exercise from you

I don’t want to exert you

I am exerted

Seeing you numb

Why don’t you speak?

Why don’t you talk

To yourself?

Have you ever?

I have

I always talk

I get exerted

Yes, I know I just contradicted

With myself

That exerts me.

A little harder exerts me

It will exert you

I want to see you all exerted

That exerts me more

I want to get exerted more

So push yourself a little harder

And I get pushed further

Lets reach the goal

We never want to find

Lets be suspended

Till eternity

Lets rush

Until time arrives to free us all

Damn!!!

Woman

The night was long for him. He couldn’t sleep a bit. He was just sitting on the bed with fists pressed on the mattress and his legs forming a taper down till the floor where his feet rested one upon the other. He was trying to erode the surface of the floor with his toe just as a dog digs his shit-pot in sand or mud, in vain. He wasn’t doing it knowingly. While he dug, he stared at an anonymous point on the carpet. It not only had no name but had no existence too. His eyes seemed to have zeroed on a spot on the carpet but if it would have been possible for him to really give a thought to it and try to find that spot, he would have missed it. He liked to just stare like this. The spot somehow resembled him. He felt familiar and safe. It existed but even he couldn’t notice it.

She had slept long back and was fast asleep, her back towards him. She wore a satin nightgown. She was sleeping like a cat, gathering her body into a lump - her legs tightly pressed against each other, folded at the knees and the waist; her hands locked between her abdomen and thighs – trying to be as small as she could. Her hair flowed from her head, curving over the cushion to spread on the bed. It resembled a still waterfall in the night. Her feet still carried some mud and the bed had become dirty. If he would have felt like sleeping, it would have been too uncomfortable with mud all around. But he didn’t clean it. He just didn’t want to sleep. He just wanted to sit there and reflect. However, since a while he was blank. He couldn’t think of anything except for the knowledge of the fact that he was not able to think. He couldn’t proceed.

The curtains swayed once in a while. He looked at them and smirked. He wondered how much force the air carried to make them move. He looked at their top. They hung from clips. Then he looked at the bottom. There was nothing. They were suspended – along a vertical axis. The air rocked them on its will – along a horizontal axis. They sort of experienced a torque – a force in circular direction, since the clips would never let them go and hence whenever the air pushed them, they would, although in a small angle, move around the bar on which the clips hung. He felt jealous of the curtains. He wanted to be a curtain. They were selfless. They had no belongings and no qualms about behaving or being made to behave, forcefully accept rather, others’ will. He wasn’t selfish and selfless here hasn’t been used as a proper antonym of selfish. It just denotes the lacking of the feeling of ‘self’ in the curtains. Since they lacked it, they never felt the loss of it. Since he had it – the feeling of self - he knew the worth of having lost it.

He saw at himself, standing in front of him, in his imagination. He noticed his belongings. He felt attachment towards them including his wife; in fact she was at the fore. For one moment, he felt lucky to have her. The next moment he thought of her as a stranger. The moments thereafter, he could no longer feel belonged to her and vice versa. He could only see some mass, matter with weight, tied in clothing and deposited on his bed. The dirt on her feet and that on the bed belonged to that mass. It was not his. That is why he didn’t feel like clearing it. He looked down on the bed and imagined their moments of intimacy. He thought it was some other woman having sex with someone else of him – probably the one who is sitting on the bed now.

He couldn’t stand himself any longer. He regained his seat, in his imagination. He sort of felt a support to have someone with him now. He felt safe. He tried to talk, but couldn’t come up with a topic to start with. He dropped the plan. He thought he could just sit like that feeling some company. That would make him feel better; feel safer and he would then be able to feel strong at the cost of his company. That helped. For a while, again he continued sitting, just like that getting a hang of his company. Then, he smiled, in his imagination. He looked back at his wife as if to show her his new regained strength. She was staring back at him with wide eyes. He sunk, felt loose and gave away. His head fell on her stomach and oscillated for a while. She didn’t move. She just watched him fall. She felt that she was tied to something and couldn’t move. Not that she really wanted to save him from the fall. She wanted to take it. She wanted to feel the pain. And it did pain – especially since she was pregnant. But not a sound was made. She just lay there – still, eyes half closed.

Two minutes later, she felt wet between her thighs. She thought of holding it and going to the washroom. She pushed his head away from her stomach. It landed on the bed. Her feet touched the floor and some particles of dirt pricked into them. She had gone numb. She couldn’t even sense them. As she stood, the liquid had flowed down to her feet. She looked back to the bed. He lay there in a pool of blood topped with dirt. She gazed down at her feet. She remembered the day when she had entered his home as his wife. She remembered the oaths he had taken of protecting her, of being her care-taker, of being her better half. Then she remembered last evening. She remembered him sitting like a loser in the car. She remembered the policeman taking her behind the tree. She remembered her mouth pressed shut and her hands held tight. She experienced each singular pain after that until she fainted. She remembered nothing after that.

Coming out of her thoughts, she looked at him and then at her blood-soaked feet. She removed all her clothes, one after the other and stood naked. She stood there staring at the curtains for a long while and feeling the breeze across her face blowing her hair. She cleared the curtains and opened the window. The horizon was on the verge of giving birth to a new day. It was dawn and she took the first rays of light on her entire body. She just stood there watching until she saw the sun. Her lips parted to smile.