The Queen of Materialism

[As you must have guessed, IIT-D diaries has been called off. The obvious reason is, that the author herself got bored of it. She doesn't think IIT excites her enough to write about it.]

I always thought I was one person who never really wanted all those materialistic comforts, and was more on the spiritual sides. If that's what you call it. For this post, anyway. But perhaps I didn't know myself too well.

Surprisingly, one single event made the'Materialistic Me' wriggle out of my deepest doors of my mind, and stand right out, and shout, 'I was always here, honey!'

So. This is to announce the official arrival of the Queen of Materialism.

Her speech is as follows:

Hi all. Well, as you all probably have been told by my other half, I am indeed the person who craves for every bit of materialistic happiness possible. For quite some time, Spiritual Me had been dominating over me, and had begun to think that I possibly didn't exist. However, a change in the life suddenly woke Her up, and I've got a chance to prove my existence.

Here's what I have to say:

1. I cannot live without the luxury of an air conditioner. I have tried and tried and tried, but sorry, I'm tailor made to sleep with a bedsheet covering all of me, and basking in the cool blows of the A/C.

2. I cannot STAND the sight of horribly cooked food, let alone the thought of eating it. Spiritual Me had entirely convinced herself that she would do perfectly fine, and in the worst case she could OBVIOUSLY go to the canteen. But, yours truly, is so used to yummy food being served to her (preferably home cooked), that she is too lazy/haughty to do either. She'd rather starve herself by skipping meal after meal than stoop down to such a low level, as compromising on food. Never. Hah, Spiritual Me, my ass.

3. I hate the fact that I'm not sleeping in MY room, in the comfort of MY bed, WITH my mom on one side and my sister on the other. Spiritual Me would argue that part of this is her contribution, but no. I steal the entire credit for it, and I won't provide any reasons for it.

4. I cannot adjust with people who are NOT my friends. I choose my friends on a very random but fixed basis, and I just CANNOT think of every person I meet as a friend. I cannot sweet talk for more than five minutes to ANYONE, so this kind of life is clearly not working out for me.

5. I hate the fact that I have to walk half a kilometer back and forth, and there are no rickshaws to be seen ANYWHERE when I need them. I hate walking, my legs are too used to be not-in-much-use. Just hate it.

6. I just cant understand why I must do everything myself. Oh, yes, this is about growing up, right? Well then, I don't wanna grow up. I like buying books when there's a fixed day assigned to me and I'm just expected to say the name of the book and the shopkeeper is kind enough to bring it out for me. Library business is such a boring job.

7. How can I forget, I cannot LIVE without the television. NO. And that too, JUST as I have it in my house, with a bed near by where I can lie down in untmost relaxation and watch Star Movies forever and ever. Amen.

When I was deprived of all this, my ego was hurt, and I came out in the open. These are just the few things on which I cannot compromise. Spiritual Me has gone for a holiday. I'll update soon and let you know about the other things that have been snatched from me.

God save me from such drudgery.

P.S. You must have guessed what that single event is. Yes, dearies, it is IIT.

Unfolded

Part VIII

With a huge lump in my throat,
I turned to him and said,
‘I don’t know why I’m doing this,
But to you, my life I owe.’

‘You are the man, who marred my life,
And the one who made it too,
It’s you, who made an orphan out of me,
But who gave me a new life, too.’

‘I think enough has happened now,
And I needn’t explain any more,
You are all I have of my past.’
With this, I walked out of the door.

I felt glad when I heard his foot steps,
Finally, all questions had their answers,
He patted me on my head,
As we journeyed forth, thirty years…

Completeness came to my life,
Sometimes life carves its own way,
It’s God’s way of telling the world,
That He’s the king, they say…

After a century, I got a father,
Nostalgia was what I felt and breathed,
Each time he would pat me on my head,
Me, closer to my past, he would lead…

It’s as if I’m his penance,
And he’s nurtured me from the roots,
Maybe then, it was his hand,
That guided me through life’s pits, and wounds...

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P.S: I'm happy to announce that this series has finally come to an end. Whether you liked t or not, is not my problem :P But I am always ready for comments OR compliments (The latter, ofcourse is a better proposition :D )
Catcha later with something different... :)

Unfolded

Part III

A six year old, I must have been,
Unaware of what destiny meant,
How a regular market walk would turn into a disappearance,
Is something, I had never even dreamt.

I touched the broken thing with a shiver,
As I recalled that scary night…
Three days had passed; I was hungry and tired,
And I begged my neighbors for a bite…

I whined and sobbed and cried and wept,
As they drove me away one by one,
I begged from one house to another,
And tried to distract myself with my toy gun.

After long, I felt a hand on my shoulder
I rejoiced; they had come back, returned!
But then, I felt someone pull my locks,
And a huge slap, I earned.

He snatched my toy gun, and held me tight,
He dragged me through the way,
I shrieked with fear and utmost disgust,
As he got me home, and walked away.

Puzzled, I ran after him,
And held him by the hand,
He threw me to one side of my room,
I saw the toy gun, now broken, beside me land…

He latched the door, and went away,
As I sat there nursing my wounded hand,
I knew I couldn’t live here anymore,
His coming back, I couldn’t stand…

I looked around nervously,
And saw the window, open, free…
Not once thinking of what I was doing,
I made my life’s biggest leap…

P.S : To be continued...

Unfolded

Part II

As I tried to open that brown and broken door,
A whiff of smells gathered about me,
The smell of the creeper that grew there long ago,
And the smell of mother-cooked food that I relished with glee…

Cobwebs covered the hinges now,
No more did it seem welcoming enough,
Apprehensively, I pushed it apart,
My home, my house – overcoming nostalgia is tough…

I saw a tiny me over there,
Sitting on the floor and uttering gibberish,
Across me, sat she, my creator…
Listening to me – no matter however childish…

I felt like standing there forever,
But I had come with a purpose here…
I ventured into the house like a stranger,
When I knew its every nook and corner.

My father’s study table still stood there,
And there he was - his bespectacled face…
He called to me, with loving hands,
As I stood there, shocked, amazed…

I blinked my eyes rapidly,
As I reached the final room,
This was what I never wanted to do,
This room, held everything responsible for my gloom…

Bravely, I opened that last door,
Bracing myself for the ultimate breakdown…
It seemed as if I was thirty years back,
When this room was my world, my country, my town…

Everything lay as it is, no tampering whatsoever,
My Barbie doll, my car, my book,
Each thing seemed so completely mine,
Except one thing, which I saw, and shook…


P.S : To be continued...

Sinful Soulmates

I pushed her down my balcony
A pang of guilt in my throat.
She, I know not, why turned enemy,
When, on each other, we used to dote.
I had a bitter mind for sure,
Or maybe, our bond went sour,
The past few months had passed away
In cat fights, arguments, wars.
We blamed each other for the lives we led,
I knew-she had spoiled my life.
She said her life was a complete disaster,
And I was the reason for her strife.
It was amusing, how God had played,
With me, her and us.
The irony of our lives, being...
We had nothing more than each other, left.
Too bad then, that I had to take a stand,
Too bad then, that i wanted a life without her...
Too bad then, that i wasn't ready to listen
But why, we were sisters.
Soul mates, supposedly.
But unfortunate, that she cheated on me..
And of course, the money of the bank robbery
Alas! Only she knew where it was!

P.S: It's the first time...poetry on my blog...and that too in blank verse. If you do not approve of it (of which I'm certain), please let me know. This will not be repeated ever again.

That Cokehead Lost...

When I woke up that morning, my head felt heavy. I wasn’t exactly feeling all well. Infact, I just wasn’t well. My head felt dizzy, I had a running nose. I put together all the strength that I had, to get up and look around. I was on the beach. I tried to recall how I reached there, but after three lines of coke that I had snorted last evening, I obviously couldn’t remember. I tried to convince myself that I must have come here myself last night. I had no other choice, anyway.
As I stood there, staring at the violent waves, my life flashed in front of my eyes like a film roll. And I began to reminisce.

I knew my life wouldn’t be rosy the day I left my home, and along with that, a cozy life. But never in my wildest dreams had I imagined that it could get so rocky.
My parents had seemed like tyrants to me. They had a problem with everything that I did. And when, one fine day I realized that the life they wanted me to live wasn’t exactly the one I wanted to, I stomped out of the house. Anyway, they had expressed their disgust of the fact that I was their daughter, the day they found out I smoke and drank. I walked out, swearing under my breath to never return.

As I embarked upon a new life, all I carried along with me, was a bag in which I’d stuffed a few clothes and my certificates which proved my education. I had to carve a life out of these, and I knew there wasn’t any other way.
I got a job at a call centre. They paid me enough to fill my belly, but not enough to buy a house. I stayed at a pal’s place for a month or so, after which she blatantly refused to give me refuge. That was the first time I felt I ad done a huge mistake by walking out. I felt scared as I walked out of my friend’s house. I was completely broken.
I could see that I had no purpose in life. And that troubled me.
I spent the night under a street light. Homeless, helpless, alone…
I went to a bar the next day. That’s where I met a peddler, who offered to sell drugs to me. I refused, and walked away.
But the next time I went to that bar, and was trying to find peace in my vodka, I met him again. It was pure coincidence, and this time, I couldn’t refuse.
I found a purpose to live – cocaine.
The peddler would supply me cocaine, and I would pay him all my salary for it.
Cocaine was tremendously hallucinating, and I began to find peace in it. Each shot of it left me so lost, so high…
It was a healer, it took me away from all the troubles of the world.

I still lived on the roads, but now, I cared less.
I never felt anything was going wrong with me, till one day, my nose began to bleed. It pained severely. I tried to convince myself that it couldn’t be because of drugs. I couldn’t.
I knew it was cocaine.
But I never went to a doctor. I was scared. And there wasn’t anyone to force me anyway.
Life moved on.
My meetings with the peddler increased. I now snorted almost eighteen lines of coke everyday, after which I passed out.
One such night, I fainted. I hadn’t passed out, I had fainted with the pain I my nose, from where blood oozed out like anything.


When I opened my eyes next, I saw myself in a room which had been mine some time ago. Beside me, I saw my parents, who wept like anything. I cried. And I hugged them as tightly as I could. I didn't want to leave them. I just wanted to come back.
I was glad they agreed with me.

I had learnt my lesson.

Perhaps.

Perhaps not.

Cocaine never went out of my mind. Life seemed incomplete without it. I hadn’t any will power to stop myself, so I feigned evening walks and went in search of my peddler.

I found him, and with him, I found cocaine.

My parents found out soon. Their faces told me they had given up all hope. They seemed shattered. And I couldn’t stand it.
I decided to leave once again. It was just my way of telling them to forget that they had a daughter. This time, they didn't stop me.

I knew I was ruining my life, as I met the peddler once again and snorted three lines of coke.
But somewhere deep down, I just wasn’t bothered. Cocaine was now my life. It was a different point that it was poison, too.

That was yesterday. As I watched the waves come and go, I realized how I had ruined my life to an extent after which I couldn’t step back.
And I was sad to admit, that I wasn’t happy with it.

I knew what I had to do today…let the waves take me away. For the first time after so long, I felt like being led by someone…

I needed a better high than what cocaine gave me, and what could be better than death.


Not much was left of life now…
Not much of life was left now…

THANK YOU...FATHER...

***********Acknowledgments************

Awrite, without creating anymore confusion about how someone is going to kill someone else...let me put it down clear and right.

Thank you Disha...(wait, I'm coming to it!) I think it was one of the days when everyone was practicing for the farewell. You, me Saumya and Taps were playing throwball remember?? that's when you came close to the throwball court net and said something like

"Mujhe is jail se bahar nikalo..."

It was just a line people...but I swear it, this whole story weaved out of it...

Bas!!! Now you know....saw 'Awwwww....'.....

Thank You Father.....

"Get me out of here! Damn you!" I cried as my father walked away...leaving me alone in that dingy jail..where I had been for the past one month. I was getting used to the aura, the feel of this stupid place, something I never wanted.
It was the last thing...the last thing I could have expected from him..my 'father'. Yeah right...fathers aren't supposed to be criminals...criminals to such an extent that they leave their own child in jail...that...was my father...

All the fine memories that I had of my childhood consisted only of ma and me. As a kid I always heard myself say that my father had been transferred abroad as an exports manager. I wish I had known...I wish ma had known and taken me away from the man who ruined me...
I perhaps would just be comforting myself if I say ma passed away...she was killed...by the same man who claimed to be my father.
A month back, one night when my father was on 'leave' and had come to meet us, two people entered our house. My father welcomed them. It was strange that he still knew people in India as he had been in Dubai for quite some years..
Anyway my mother served them tea while I sat there, carefully watching the two. They were dirty looking men, who looked like cokeheads to me. I was still studying them when my father told me to go inside. It was the strangest thing he had ever said to me. I obeyed him with suspicion. I went into my room and began to watch some silly movie when I heard my mother's shriek. I ran towards the living room, only to see one of the men fire a bullet into my mother's head....

It was the hardest moment I have ever known...as ma fell to the ground. I slowly advanced towards her, and sat beside her on the floor,while drops of blood surrounded me...
I was still lost and staring at her, and the only thing I saw her do was point a finger at my father...

This shook me, and as I began to understand what she meant, ma breathed her last...

She was gone, and the man who killed her was standing in front of me...i ran towards my father in revenge, but the two men held me.

"You bastard, you killed my mother!!...." i shouted, as my focus shifted towards the table, where i saw a bag full of pistols...and a photograph beside it...
"Dad...you..are a terrorist? You're killing the....you maniac! the Chief Minister!!!" I uttered as I tried to break free from them.
My father hadn't uttered a word till then. He finally spoke...
"Look Maya, this isn't something that I could have chatted with you about. It's business, and this is what I am...I think you need some time alone..." he said as he held me by my arm, "Your mother shouldn't have heard our talk... dont worry, no one will come to know of this..."

His words shocked me even more than the fact that he was a terrorist.
I shook his hand off me and gave him a tight slap.
"You're telling me to keep quite about this sin that you just did?? You call yourself human? You're insane!! This is the shit you've been upto in dubai... And you will pay for it..."
I walked towards the telephone, determined. I crossed ma's body in the way. But there wasn't time for me to cry at her death.... he would have to pay for what he did....and what he had been doing all these years...
I was about to pick up the receiver when something hit me hard on the head...and I fell to the floor.


It was the toughest night of my life....
I opened my eyes and saw myself in jail...
"What the hell am I doing here? Where's my father...he's a terrorist..." I screamed as a policeman slapped me hard.
"Shut up you bitch!" he said as he pulled my hair and I screamed in pain. "A woman who can kill her mother is a terrorist...not your father..."


It took me some time to sink in what he had said while he locked me up in the cell and went away.
before I could figure out what my father had done, I saw him come towards me.
As he stood across the bars...he said, "I'm sorry child...but it's business you see...you wouldn't listen...take care...I'm going to Dubai forever. Your mother is cremated at St.Paul's. I only wish your mother hadn't heard us talk about the Chief Minister..."

"Take me out of this place...you..." I cried as I saw the monster go away....
"Hey! You bastard! Get me out...you cant do this!!!"

When I realised that he wouldnt turn back, I stopped....and for the first time in twenty-four hours I cried...at my father's betrayal, at ma's death....at myself....

This wasnt exactly the life a father wishes for a daughter....

As I put myself together and sat on the jail bench, the policeman came back and said, "Fourteen years...but had I been judge, you should have been hung..."

I smiled to him and said, "I wish you were judge....."

As he gave me a disgusted look, i poured myself a glass of water from the jug kept aside me...

A month later, he came to meet me again...saying that he was leaving...
That's when I saw him last, and the last time I said, "Get me out of here! Damn you..."

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