I Express

   In a non-AC bus, I was the only passenger in the driver's cabin, along with the driver and conductor. Yes, that would be stupid for many but I did not come across any sort of uncomfort. Further explanation, I was too unwell to stand among the sweaty crowd of the bus. And sitting between two people who were distant from me of which, one was busy driving, anyone but a stupid would prefer the crowd!   Two minutes passed on the traffic signal when I saw a hand cleaning the windshield. I peeped and saw a young malnourished boy. He knocked the windshield to steal the driver's attention. The driver called him by his window and mocked, "Why spoiling my bus, you?" Both, driver and the conductor laughed. I could see the boy pleading but couldn't understand what he said. The driver ordered him to climb up and clean the upper half. The heat was such that if you walked bare feet, you'd get blisters the very instant. Besides this, the boy swiped the upper ha

    So I took along with me this college fresher. Her very first experience in the Delhi Metro. Glowing with excitement as any other new girl in town, waiting to explore. Looking forward to experience the perks of metro as she had heard of. Fast, safe, affordable. Read Safe. And we patiently waited on the platform till the metro arrived. Post the efforts of entering it, we could barely move an inch in the over-crowded ladies' compartment. She swung her head for some reason, then looked at me. "Isn't this the ladies' compartment?" I nodded. "Why these men?" I smiled at her curiosity. "Baby, this is India." I could not search for a better answer.     Travelling in bus during summers is a task I do every weekend, without receiving any reward. Oh! Exclude the tan and pimples. Here is where I get to see, (apologies) the most uncouth crowd. I was on the window side of the two seater and my best past time is dozing off or music. This ti

I realized I was shamelessly staring at him but I didn't cease. At the gas station, our bus was standing among vehicles which constantly honked horns. The conductor was engaged in a fight, a brutal one they said, which I didn't bother to look at. Soon the bus driver, too, became a part of it.  Half past one, the heat was intense. Cacophony surrounded me.  Abuses to pleads. One spat paan while the fight continued. For the young men it was a recreation, "Let's call the Prime Minister to sort this out", one joked. An elderly man staring at young girls playing. Women fanning themselves with the loose end of their saree and their mother-in-laws frowning at them as their sarees slipped from their heads. A mother grabbing a handful of chips from the packet her daughter was holding, chewing, cursing the weather, and the fighting men, as few bits fell off her mouth. An unmarried couple, taking all the advantage of the half-empty bus. A lady, post staring me from he

“My face is BURNING” Never before did she scream that way. Three middle-aged men stood beside her grinning, showing off their yellow teeth between the parted brown lips. “HELP ME. I don’t want...” She fainted. She opened her eyes in the Burn ward. They said it took two weeks of intense care to bring her back to senses. “Get her a pen and paper”, the officer commanded. “I can speak. BURN them” She could see no more but in her eyes, fury was explicit. “We assure you that. Tell us what had happened”, the officer spoke gentle. “That night, I was asleep in my room when I woke up with...” She coughed. “...Men talking” She coughed again. “Rape...Acid...” She breathed heavily. Her eyes rolled up. She turned pale. Who were they? Educated illiterates. How is taking away her face (and life), happiness to them? I don’t know the answer to this but tell them, beauty is a great source of masturbation and that would have been perpetual. Is that is how we can st

She was playing with his shirt buttons. In the metro, they stood face to face. Though, her head swung down often as she talked and smiled and blushed. The metro was crowded. But for her, it was just him. You could tell it from her eyes. You could see her eyes twinkling as she looked at him. She was beautiful, wore a salwar-kameez, hair tightly tied up. Her fingers brushing his’. In between, she slid two of her fingers in his breast pocket and giggled. She had a baby laughter, pleasant to my ears. She seemed so much in love, so content. Her man. Where was he? Yes, in front of her. Where were his eyes? Where were his eyes? I regret looking pretty that day.

They stared at me as if I had raped someone, though they don't even treat the victim as a person.                         I could see a hair strand falling on her nape. I blew it and kissed there. She said she loved it.   She ran her fingertips on the curves of my belly and I went forward and kissed her lips.   We didn't always hold hands while walking but my heart skipped a beat everytime she knocked her head to one side and smiled at me.     "It hurts", she confessed one day. "You don't want me to?", I asked in a mocking manner. "I don't want you to stop", she blushed. We are in love. So what? But one fine day, this happened... "The society calls for it", she held back the lump in her throat. That day, we kissed hungrily and felt the most of each other's body. She said I had the most beautiful body. We parted without tears. My husband is oblivion, till date. I never forced myself to fall for her. It happene

   "I dare you to call me" She banged the car's door and went. You could see it on her face. The intense rage. She was smoking hot, I noticed, as I watched her walk away. I didn't know her nor her boyfriend (probably) who, too, saw her walking away with heavy foot steps from the rear-view mirror. They probably had a fight. The reason, to me, was unknown. But I was sure she'd now drink and smoke up till she is out of her senses. So this is how you let just one person affect you so much that you waste an entire day of your life, not knowing that that might be the last day you are alive. That one person, indirectly, impose their life on you and you, unquestionably, allow that. It is not solely the case of relationships. Unbalanced friendships are included. So are one-sided affections. And love? Why talk about love? Let me keep it to practicality. All seems incomplete till you get to hear from them. You laugh at the stories of 'the cool guy of the group&#

Away from your own blood, When you feel the pain of being left out by everyone around. When you see jolly people around and it pains to know you aren't a part of them. When your parents are your sole support but it pains to tell them for they are helpless. When people greet you in the morning only to seek your help in the evening. When people play loud music n dance, your only companion_the book in your hand seems lifeless. When you die to laugh with a bunch of folks but realize those folks are tired of laughing. Laughing at you. Maybe?