Micro Fiction – The Wait

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The dawning dusk always makes her pensive about life’s cherished moments and each swing of that rocking chair makes her smile, remembering those enchanting memories of him. She has lost count of the hours she has been sitting there waiting for his return, remembering those passionate and sensuous moments of togetherness when his caressing fingers would explore every curve of her body, discovering those erotic zones where he would eventually lose himself – the soul-searching sojourn which would begin with the physical pleasure and culminate into the ultimate platonic ecstasy.

Ghalib~Nama: Rendezvous with Mirza Ghalib (Final Part-6)

Source: Google Images

Mirza Ghaib Series (All Parts) : Part (1) │ Part (2) │ Part (3) │ Part (4) │ Part (5) │ Part (6)

कोई उम्मीद बर नहीं आती

कोई सूरत नज़र नहीं आती

मौत का एक दिन मुअ'ययन है

नींद क्यों रात भर नही आती

(koi ummeed bar naheen aatee,

koee soorat nazar naheen aatee

Maut ka ek din mu’ayyan hai,

neehd kyon raat bhar naheeh aatee?)

(No hope in the living for me

No solution in the sight for me

Death is scheduled for one day

Why there is no sleep in the night for me)

Above lines perfectly depict the state of Ghalib’s life post 1857 uprising which not only caused him the loss of friends and propriety but also (more importantly) shattered his soul from within making him lose all the hope for better times. He was pushed into the state of loneliness and solitude so much so that in the last years of his life he was primarily confined to his house only with minimal or no visitors. In his own words, “I have the grief of death, grief of partings, grief of livelihood, grief of reputation. The death of my near ones and separation from my living friends have plunged my world in utter darkness.” He was physically debilitated and emotionally drained losing the desire to live, just waiting for his time to arrive for the absolution that was never reached.

Ghalib~Nama: Rendezvous with Mirza Ghalib (Part-5)

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Mirza Ghaib Series (All Parts) : Part (1) │ Part (2) │ Part (3) │ Part (4) │ Part (5) │ Part (6)

Ghalib truly had his share of tryst with destiny and the scuffle for supremacy continued for life with each one of them trying to oust the other but, perhaps, he didn’t seem to digest that destiny always walks a step ahead and in the end it’s the life which bends the way destiny decides. We have read earlier that the recognition and nobility came to Ghalib much later in life when the royal title was finally bestowed upon him followed by additional recognition & titles in royal courtyards. I am sure he must have been elated to receive the place for which he craved & struggled through-out. However, the joy and glee was short lived & with the break of 1857 revolt everything vanished leaving him in a state of solitude. It was like walking on a circular path, ultimately reaching the point where you started. While for the rest of the country the 1857 uprising was the struggle for independence but for Ghalib it was more of the survival and sustenance.

Ghalib~Nama: Rendezvous with Mirza Ghalib (Part-4)

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Mirza Ghaib Series (All Parts) : Part (1) │ Part (2) │ Part (3) │ Part (4) │ Part (5) │ Part (6)

Both of us fell silent. My mind was racing towards various facets of Mirza Sahib’s life thinking constantly how he must have actually felt like while going through each of those phases. Throughout his life he remained under the debt, blame it on his bleak financial condition or his lavish lifestyle (which he maintained whatever be his finances) or his ardent love for wine and gambling (he even got arrested once for gambling which had a grave impact on Ghalib’s mind; he was disheartened to see most of his friends, relatives and associates deserting him at that time). The appreciation and place in the royal court which he so rightfully deserved was evaded for long. However, in 1850 the royal title was finally bestowed upon him followed by additional recognition & titles in royal courtyards. All these symbolized a step towards accommodation of Mirza Sahib in the nobility of Delhi. But, these were again short-lived.

Ghalib~Nama: Rendezvous with Mirza Ghalib (Part-3)

Source: Google Images

Mirza Ghaib Series (All Parts) : Part (1) │ Part (2) │ Part (3) │ Part (4) │ Part (5) │ Part (6) 

The journey from Agra to Delhi was slowly turning out to be the journey of my life. I wouldn’t have thought even in my wildest of the dream that I would ever get a chance to share some moments of my life with the person I admire so much. As our talks went on, the veil of hesitation eventually shied away allowing me the comfort to be candid to him in terms of my inquisitiveness and curiosity. 

Ghalib~Nama: Rendezvous with Mirza Ghalib (Part-2)

Mirza Ghaib Series (All Parts) : Part (1) │ Part (2) │ Part (3) │ Part (4) │ Part (5) │ Part (6)  

“Are you kidding? You mean to say you are Mirza Ghalib, The Greatest poet of Urdu and Persian. You are 'The Mirza Ghalib'…Please stop taking me on a ride. Will You?” I paused for a moment and then suddenly retraced back with a thought, “Are you a ghost!!!” As I said this to him, a part of mine started uttering the lines from the prayer to Lord Hanuman to keep evil forces away,

भूत पिसाच निकट नहिं आवै ।

महाबीर जब नाम सुनावै

(Bhoot pisaach Nikat nahin aavai

Mahavir jab naam sunavae)

(All the ghosts, demons and evil forces keep away,

With the sheer mention of your great name, O’ Mahaveer, the Lord Hanuman!!)

Ghalib~Nama: Rendezvous with Mirza Ghalib (Part-1)

Source: Google Images

Mirza Ghaib Series (All Parts) : Part (1) │ Part (2) │ Part (3) │ Part (4) │ Part (5) │ Part (6)

The excitement and challenge to get a window seat is something which awakens the child even in the grown up person. So when I was purchasing the tickets for the bus, I specifically requested at the ticket counter to arrange for the window seat, if possible. And when the voice from the ticket window answered in the positive tone my joy knew no bounds.

Mystic Mythos: Ahilya's Curse

“Abhor O’ Ahilya. You relinquished your chastity, your virtues and your values for something so momentary. Your majestic form, timeless beauty and unmatched grace have doused you in hubris and arrogance that made you commit such a grave sin. May your form is lost, your grace is perished and your beauty is reduced to a lifeless piece of rock which is devoid of any existence. Your existence will only be confined to yourself and for the world you will become insignificant and invisible.”

Micro Fiction – Please Don’t Forget Me. . .

Hail brother, for yet another victory we jointly scripted by ousting those enemies from our motherland, the feat which surely calls for the celebrations as I can sense the joy in the platoon with the merriment dancing around the bonfire… it feels so privileged to be a part of the reason of that celebration…isn’t it?

Micro Fiction - Realization

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After finishing the daily chores, I sit in front of the mirror combing the hair and as I look up to see myself, the reflection I see astonishes me altogether for what I see is not me but a deformed piece of flesh with the lust marks of my wild husband all over. The reflection prompts me to ponder and retrospect as to who am I and what’s my existence to him, a recreational object which during the daytime serves food to him on the table and during the night gets served to him on bed.

Micro Fiction – Angel & Devil

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He was never amongst the one who slaughtered lives in the name of religion or sect until his own self came under the scanner killing his only daughter who was just four at that time; the catastrophe that killed the angel in him giving birth to the ruthless devil, who was always in look out for the new life to satisfy his revenge. The sight of his daughter’s body draped in white cloth with the stains of red completely broke him and his love for her poured from the eyes, the remnants of tears that couldn’t fall formed a lump within igniting the fire of revenge that continued to burn even after claiming so many lives.

Micro Fiction - Re-union

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It’s been exactly a year since he had left her alone after spending more than fifty years of togetherness, sharing all those discrete moments of hope and despair which together forms the bouquet of life. Her final moments with him just before his death are still afresh in her memory when he had promised her to come back and as their hands joined together to form a cusp of agreement, its warmth went away forever.

Micro Fiction – Rebirth

His eyes beamed as he blew the last tank of the enemy with his heart saying “Hail Mother India” in every beat of his, when a series of bullets pierced him with the spring of blood oozing out of his body.

Spinning Tales - The Homecoming

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“Santosh, I am coming down. Please bring the car at the gate in 15 minutes. And don’t be late, I don’t want to hear another of that traffic excuse please” I said. Santosh was my driver for the last 5 years. He was obedient and diligent but had this habit of coming late when called, especially while going back to home. His excuse was always the same, “Sir, there was some jam at the basement parking” but I somehow knew that it wasn’t due to traffic but due to his extended game of cards with other drivers, which used to completely absorb him.