That unlikely father...

He played with me.
He tied my laces for me.
He helped me get over with my leg pains.
He told me stories at bed time.


My father was the best thing that could have ever happened to me.

Being a victim of a metropolitan city life, I expected parents who had full time jobs, and practically no time for their little kid. And here I was, a father beside me…always willing to answer my weirdest questions, at any hour in the night.
I was a lost, dreamy kid who got the wildest dreams in the whole universe. But of course, my father was always there, when I used to suddenly wake up at odd hours, and cry out to him. He was interested in knowing what had troubled me, and then I would blurt it out to him, about how a cow had threatened me to snatch away my food and force me to gulp down its dry bread crumbs in exchange.
It didn't really bother me how he reacted to my tantrums, but the fact that he used to bear with them all, was enough.


He used to buy me chips whenever I asked for them. And of course, our outings were incomplete without a snack or two…
Life seemed perfect with my father.

I felt proud when other sissy girls of my age cribbed about their snoring dads and their weird ways…MY dad wasn’t in the least like them…

Mom was there obviously, but that was different. With dad, it was always, all about me. What I like, what I love, who I like, who I adore.

I grew up, and stuff changed.

Dad was never the same again. Or let me put it the other way; WE were never the same again. My friends changed, my life changed, my priorities changed.

His presence in my life lessened, as the year went by.
Obviously his stories weren’t required anymore.
His games didn't really excite me.
I could overcome my leg pains on my own.
And I preferred sleeping alone, than listen to his bed time stories.

However, we still adored each other. He was THE most important part of my life. He was all that mattered to me.

And one day, he just vanished.

Schizophrenia, said the doctors.

And since they had practically no better way to sort out stuff, they tagged me as a mental patient.

The irony being that this wasn’t a figment of a child’s imagination.

Who I considered father all these years…existed…lived…breathed…

The only difference being, that he existed just for me.

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.

Anything for you, sir...

When he walked into the class that day, his face seemed dull and he lacked his usual bright aura. I was perhaps the only one to notice it because the other students didn't bother to.
They had it straight in their head. He was a teacher. Them, students.
As I shrugged my shoulders at the thought, I looked at him intensely. Something was wrong.

I knew my sir more than anyone in the class did. And his lectures were more than just knowledge for me. They felt divine. If at all anything felt good about books and studies, it was his presence.
He was my favorite teacher, no doubt. Anyway, there were better things to think about…as he was more than that to me.
As he bragged on about resonance in benzene, I noticed he was sweating profusely. He hurriedly wiped it all off his face, and looked at me apprehensively.
Something was disturbing him terribly. And this was troubling me terribly.


I thought of the extra class I had arranged with him last week. It was just me and him. He taught, I listened. I talked, he listened. That day, I had poured out all my life’s conflicts in front of him. He seemed interested. He was perhaps the confidante for whom I had longed all this while.
He was more than a teacher. This much was clear.

But I didn't want to know any better.

Ignorance is bliss, they say.

When he looked at me again that day, his moist eyes gave away. He wanted to tell me something. I tried hard to read through, but sadly couldn’t.
This disturbed me, and so I decided to divert my attention to atoms and molecules.
Chemistry…was what he taught. And today, nothing seemed as interesting as it did.

I pretended to be deeply engrossed in my notebook as he gave the class a sum and walked round the class.

He was old, I reckoned. He was married, I knew. And he wasn’t exactly good looking either, I admitted. Yet, something drew me to him. What -- was a big question better left unanswered.

He stopped at my table, where I sat, lost in these thoughts.

No, I won't look up, I decided.

I don’t know why I did this. But I didn't want to look into those eyes, whose language I couldn’t decipher.

Anyway, I mechanically repeated to myself that he was a teacher, and I- just his student.
It didn't help. Damn.

An hour passed away, ad he still continued to talk about benzene and phenol and naphthalene. Some time later, he glanced at his watch. A Rolex, I recalled, as I had noticed during that memorable extra class.
He then glanced at me.
In an attempt to ignore him, I too glanced at my watch, and realized that the class was almost over.
He put back the chalk on the table, looked at the class and said:
“This will be my last class with you. I am getting transferred immediately to the other branch. Good luck, may god be with you in all you do.”

My heart skipped a beat as he looked at me for a nanosecond and then walked away.

Those eyes…I wish I had deciphered.



Drat. This couldn’t be love.