My favourite vegan salad

Spinach-Papaya Salad

Ingredients:

Spinach Leaves - 1Bunch (Wash thoroughly in cold water)

Papaya - 1 half

Lemon juice – As much required

Grated Coconut – As much required

Method:

           Mix in a salad bowl

           Serve

False Friends Forever

My fangs grow purple with perseverance

my heart cold with melancholy

I have tried and tried to be one with the crowd

and my glass slippers shrunk in the rain.

We were bosom buddies once

but I grew old and and grew quiet

I broke your vase and you lost my number

I am alone in the dark heaven outside your door

My Fangs grow brown and rust in exile

something gnaws at my lifeboat

Loneliness begets loneliness

and happiness however false, friends.

Alexandra

Flat and silver

Your tongue still pierces me

Like no other.

Toes made of clay

Finger tips dead from years

Of staying away.

Leave that box girl

Walk out.

It’s been 19 months already

19 thousand years may be

The lock has fallen off

On its own accord

But still inside you stay

Sounds of a whip past

And your clay feet stay

The box is half rotten

And you still stay rooted

To that sweet spot

And I have memories of your tongue

And the clefts and the nooks in your body

Wet me still, Alexandra.

I have wandered 19 days

Or 19 centuries may be

And I called out your name

Once I had almost smelt you out

But a cover of lavender and sorrow

And bundles of guilt

Confounded me and I lost the trail.

But the lock has fallen away girl

And I wait, with the table set

With my skin and nails and hair

The ground beneath still remembers

Your toe-ring and your quick gait.

Walk away Alexandra, and come home.

The gates are open and

the blood hounds are long gone.

Follow my scent of longing and love

And come to roost Alexandra.

And if you want I will prepare you

A new cage and hang it in the porch

And come and sing for me

And your voice still rings in my year

And I wake up on a lone still bed,

Flat and silver, your tongue….

afternoon shade

In that dizzyingly shiny box of fallen leaves

Left at my door step by that night-time angel

She’d breathed in a funny laugh of sunflowers, and

Out came a lucid day filled with that familiar smell

It rained last night

It rained last night

But we woke up too late

It rained orange sequin crystal droplets

But we woke up staid

Furry little pink slippers of envy

“Pitter-patter” sings the rain-drops

Beauty chase me down that alley

And slay down all my green hopes

First I am not and  then I am not again.

And the things spin out.

and questions old and musty

come tumbling out of that closet.

she crept along that once yellow road
and one by one her bread crumbs flew away
she became her own leftover
she stopped for a song, never walked again.

My Fault I'm Female

A couple of years ago, my sister and I were walking down the street to go get an auto rickshaw to go join our parents at a cultural program they were at. Basically, we had wanted to skip the ‘cultural’ bit, with all the dancing and singing and were trying to time our arrival with the community dinner which is to die for. We started from our house, and we had to walk about 3 minutes to reach the main road where the auto rickshaw stand was. This was about 11 in the night. Two guys on a bike passed by, and as expected (for in India, “mild” eve-teasing is norm of the day) they commented something. I was expecting the usual “Hi Sexy!” and was horrified and pissed off to hear from these two guys, “Good Morning!” We ignored them and kept walking, mostly cos that’s the norm and also cos there was no one else on the road and I wanted to be closer to the auto rickshaw stand before lashing out. And I was going to lash out. I was seething! These two young men (must have been mid-20’s, about my age) wished us Good Morning at 11 in the night thus reminding us the weaker and vulnerable sex that it was nighttime and that we should  not be here walking on the streets. Well, they could, cos they were male but for my sister and me, the 3 minute walk was blasphemy…OFWF.

Well we reached the rickshaw stand as they were returning for the third time to wish us morning, when I turned around and maniacally screamed at them to ‘FO.’ I screamed and screamed the same thing again and again as if the next thing I was going to do was to fly to them and crush them to death. I screamed like a demon.

They fled without a backward glance.

Good Morning to you too sirs!

A letter to a friend who I didn't know was a friend and who was miraculously there when I needed it

6/8/09

Aami jaanina re, why I want to write. However, it’s the only thing I know to do. To do well. To want to do well. I miss not having to write, not needing to. One day I will write my story, one day I will write my stories and publish them. But first I need to start writing. So that I start writing. So that I remember what it is to write. To have to write, to need to…

I don’t have an answer to these questions. “how will ur life decide that it wants to be a writer? what will ur writing be aimed at? what will it achieve?” probably cos I don’t understand them.

And what do I want to write? Preferably Novels (someday someday), poetry, short stories. But I will settle for anything. Yes anything, my employer asks me too. I will write as long as I am allowed to include my view points. Write a story, a feature, from my point of view. I want to to hone my style. Ekhon all I have is imagery. I want to get this fluency. I want to try out different styles. And I won’t be able to all this till I am not writing for a living. What I write is not so important. That I write is. I will be writing for writing’s sake.  What do you think?

I hope you had fun on your birthday. How old are you now? I’ll be turning 27, July 25. Looking forward to the rest of my life, at last. I quit Google today. As in I resigned. Last day June 26^th. I feel no regret yet. Now I have to keep myself motivated to being happy, not comfortable.

I am making other changes too. Getting in touch with people I lost in the 3 years. Severing ties with people who make me unhappy. My upcoming birthday and Roshni’s death anniversary, is making me utterly emotional and I keep going into these bouts of loneliness and anxiety and depression. I have in the past, withdrawn more into myself. This time I want to be involved with good people. Good friends. Tor kaemon obostha? Emotionally kaemon aachheesh tui? Tor okhaankaar bondhura kaemon?

I have been trying to picture your house. I want to visit you and your house and the lake behind it. I have to now start making my resume and start looking for a job.

Wish me all the best.

Love,

Arunlekha.

Excerpt from a letter I once wrote to a boy.

..........Believe me. I understand what you are saying. And I hope you understand, What I say, when I say "You and i are very similar somewhere, except that i am accepting of the way the world is moving. I have come to terms with the fact that, I cant change anything but me." 

I can't change anything. I wish I was zealous and filled with energy and focused. I used to die cos I would not be able to sustain interest long enough to write a petition even, for example. I grappled with myself long enough. I was/am lazy. I tried to fit in like mad and all. Right now, I am making changes to me. I am making a change in the most basic way I can. That is to be fucking honest with myself. 

I believe, that most things we have a problem with is out of our hands. Can I change India's sexuality issues? I can only be myself and do whatever I want to. I come from the middle-class and I grew up imbibed with such morals. Me becoming more Human (doing what I feel like, and not reacting out of/because of my social-conditioning) is in itself a big task. I have to then find a balance between what I aspire to become and what petty thing I feel like doing. I want to be completely unconcerned about money and not be chasing it, but I love to shop. I want to not be affected by desires but I love eating. So, I try instead to change how I look at food. When I was diagnosed with Diabetes, it was like I dint even register it. I didn't. I took me 5 years to be considerate to my body. I am very self-destructive, but now I am learning to take care of myself instead.  I am hovering between being good and just being me. I aim at being a good me. 

Coming to petty things, I go to 10d, for I've been going there for 10 years now. Cos, it was the closest thing to my college in the summers. When it is 45'c, we needed an A.C.  We'd go to Lifestyle to hang and then slowly moved to 10d. I feel at home there. The food is cheap. I don't go there to make a statement or not make one. I don't feel like making a statement anymore. I used to. I grew up. 

I am not rich. Neither is my father. I spend my own savings to live my life. (I know I know, I can be disdainful about money cos I can afford to be, but, which family I was born into is also my honesty and I cant pretend to be poor cos it's more polite. You are white, you can't pretend to not be, just so you can speak againest racism. You can speak againest it. But you will still be white which is nothing to be proud of (or not proud of), but it's your honesty [I hate the word reality]) 


Moreover, the petty thing I feel like doing, makes me a human being. No? I love drinking. Cos, It's one of the things that make me happy. Along with food and sex. Sad. I know. I am trying to find peace of mind instead of looking for happiness or dwelling on sadness. But that I falter, I don't hate. I accept and then move on. ..............

pet that horse

I haven’t been able to write much for quite a while now. Either I was too busy or sad or just too happy to. I started work today, after a hiatus of 3 months or so and now I am sleepy and tired. I will get off in another 10 minutes or so. All you people who have been irritated with me for not updating my blog at all. Hold on to your horses.

:)