my pages...-

She sat midafternoon in the long corridors of the old library....the musty smell of wooden racks and books didn't bother her. It was her retreat for this day. She yearned to hear his voice but then she remembered their silence.

She was waiting with bated breath...looking at the phone every now and then ..it did beep and she knew it was him. He did remember...somehow she knew he would. His words were read and then reread and then reread once again.....

Was she happy? She couldn't fathom....and then the tears came...they came so easily...was she being watched? She really didn't care!!

She stifled a sob...gathered her things and walked out...Where was she? Why was was she buying a darn movie ticket? The flick spoke of unrequited love...her luck.

Inside the dark hall of the movie there were noises of happiness, few laughter...the smell of coffee and popcorn mingled perfectly with the noise....she wasn't a part of them...

There were more tears....she touched those tiny black stones on her ears...she felt romanced..near to him..

Come on...BE HAPPY!!!.....He remembered....her heart told her...NO..ITS NOT SO!!! our memories choke him...perhaps he dies a death to think of them...I? I survive on them.....m

My pages...

I am slogging over Frost for over an hour now....my eyes glued to the iPad ....the various connotations,the parameters ,metaphors....blah blah blah...

I look out to see its still raining....how I detest these rains now....the only thing that comes to my mind is dirt and squalor ....

But my city loves the rain.....

When suddenly darkness grips the sky and you smell the damp air....
When suddenly it's too humid to even breathe....

When my babies( my students) look out of the window and exclaim BRISHTI!!!!!!

When you see the lady of the house running around to shut those banging doors and windows,or pulling their washed clothes inside....they make a pretty picture though.....loose curls round their faces,Sari Pallus trailing behind them....it's poetic!(Him taught me to look poetically at the most mundane things)

When most of us are hopelessly stuck in the traffic....knowing we can never reach anywhere in time....

When dil Chahta hai to have all the sinful things in life.....khatta...meetha....oil and grease!

When the kitchen starts smelling of khichudi and begun bhaja ....the man of the house runs for the best illish or hilsa.....

When I want to go underneath my sheets and get oblivious to the rains outside....hoping I would love it once again like all the others like my city do.....

Anyway lets go back to Frost....and his iambic parameters.......

Rain or no rain ....life continues.....

All my pages ( to be contd)......m