You and Me Mum

Remember the black mark mum?
Remember all those times?
You and me mum 
With all that dirt and grime

The bloated ego and the fight
Crying and those endless nights
You and me mum
And your suggestions of wrong and right

That feeling of darkness enveloping us
That claustrophobia
You and me mum
And all that nausea

The crawling under the shadows
The denials
You and me mum
And all those turbulence and trials

57 days of silence
And a telephone bill of 15,000
You and me mum
And finding ways for all this to end

The fallacy of making love
The doubt thereafter
You and me mum
And all the vodka and laughter

The dawning truth
The realization
You and me mum
And the satisfaction

I love you
With all my heart
You and me mum
Till death do us ‘part


Of Crackling Popcorn and Big Names

DISCLAIMER: This post is meant only for wholesome mind stimulation. If my post hurt any of the feminine/house-wifely sentiment then its a home run for the writer

And the blabber-er begins…  

After a good rest and a couple of good nights sleep and yes of-course rangon ka tyohaar, here I am at my blabbering best [purely my presumption] and my grey cells are churning a thought “Whats with the polybags/paper packets of a branded showroom/shop” 

You can question why this thought why not a teeny weeny insight about growing population of mosquitoes and the diminishing power of your trusted mosquito repellent, surely a post when the blabber-er-o-mania strikes again.

Back to plastic ke packets…ever wondered why you save the poly-bags from a Nalli or Fab India or that new jazzy showroom in the posh locality than the packets which make that strange sound of crackling popcorn in a dungeon with ‘Cheap Cloth Store’ printed on them?  Because these poor crackling popcorn are only meant for storing garbage or the last minute grocery shopping.

A thought dawns, why the love for a good poly bag with a biggie’s name printed on it?
1.  Because people who see us carrying these will think “hey these dolts can manage shopping here”
2.  Wow!
3.  Inducing jealousy amongst neighbours [read mrs. malhotras, pinky ki mummy, ritu, geetas and etcs..]
4.  God only knows

The best part is the storing places for these poly bags, they can generally be found
1.  Under your mattress, to save the sparkle
2.  Neatly folded and kept in a bigger poly bag [the crackling ones, oh yes another usage!]

Now amongst these ‘lower middle class polybags’ and ‘upper middle class poly bags’ lies a ‘middle middle class polybag’, viz. Shoppers’ Stop, Westside and you get the flow…the ones which crackles little but carrying them gives a loud message to geetas, ramas etcs…yes madam ji we too go to malls on the weekends!  Hence you will witness a deliberate usage on a Monday, for carrying sabji-bhaji from the sabji wala bhaiya.

Another ‘strata’ is of the fetish for the Duty Free Bags…which are carried wonly and wonly by a certain section called Mrs. Malhotras of this world and meant for a silent scream assi bhi phoren-shoren jande hai!  No matter they got this bag from their innumerous mami jis/mausi jis living in so called phoren-shoren [read, London oh yes! and dubai-shubai],  and have been used to carry those $1 worth of nail paints, the flaunting never ceases, so what after a few months they resemble the crackling ones but till a little blotch of duty free is peaking from here and there; jai ho! to the usage.

Now the flip-side…if your bag belongs to ‘kapoor di hatti’ of dariba kalan and doesn’t crackle but sparkles, chances are they will be used for storing a bag of ‘Kalpana’ of South Extension

So from the next time if you see the various mothers and wives and behens neatly folding a poly-bag and you get a nagging thought in your brain and feel like lashing out the big Q why the heck you spending so much time folding it…you know!


Happy Women’s Day

You call me an enigma
You think nothing can describe me
You say we can’t understand you
You always think I am a dilemma


I think you are a supreme fool
I think you have never tried to understand me
I think you probably try sometime
I think you always feel you are here to rule


The togetherness dissolve sometimes
You say I am the only one who compromise
If I stand up to walk away
Your brain starts churning the words to play


I tell you are weak without me
I ask you to kneel down before me
I command you to feel the pain I go through
Only once you use your heart to see


I am nothing without you
You agitate me as much as I do
I will always ask
Why dawn always melt into dusk

I am a woman because you make me one
In this battlefield called life, without you I couldn’t have won
You say you like me with all my complexities
But I say I look up to you because of all your audacities…