Tag Archives: her

Black Widow in Red

Standard

She had big dough eyes and a thin nose. She smiled mockingly at me and loved red. I liked it when she wore her red silk dress and whirled around like a ballerina. She always had her hair tied up but they perfectly fell on her face.

Her eyes gleamed as she used to say, “I would go away”. I did not believe her who would if you ask me? The way she worshipped me in between silk sheets and sleek poetry that reflected my existence as her God. She was divine with her words when she told me that she liked to kiss me after I had smoked or how she loved to claw her nails in my arm each night as we made love.

I had bruises every night. I smiled at them every damn morning!

I looked at her sprawled up on the bed like a delicate doll that might break with the slightest touch but then she looked me in the eyes, many times and said, “I will only build you up just enough to break you down. ” I did not believe her when she said that and her stare turned cold for she always leaned in and kiss me after that. She touched me tenderly and wrapped her legs around my waist not wanting to let go. If I go down she might crumble as well, I used to think to myself.

“Love is a gamble and I never play fair. I give off the illusion of putting my heart in the gamble but in reality it is just a rotten box, instead.” She used to say this whenever I claimed to love her. I told her that I want to carve a hole in the box and stay there but she told me during lonely nights that the box is rotten with termites so there is no use of staying in abandonment. Love for me was war with the world to keep her by my side even, if the Gods were against me I swear I would have fought till my last breath.

She smiled in her silk red dress and wooed me every time. She told me all these secrets about her but asked me to never claim her as mine.

Till, one day, I returned home and she was not there. The bed was neatly done and not messed up with her in between. The air didn’t smell of her perfume and I noticed the red dress was gone as well. I found no notes or goodbyes, just emptiness in the air. I waited for her, maybe she would come back? I realized that she was gone like all the things she says she eventually leaves when she sucks the life out of them. I spent the night drinking and smoking.

I did not shed a tear like betrayed lovers do, for she always told me that she would leave but it was I who never believed. I kept looking down the lane at every car that passed me by hoping that maybe, she changed her mind.

As each hour passed my hope died as well, the lady in the red dress had done her job well. She took out my heart and replaced it with a box and at 5 am there were no bruises on my back or hickeys on my neck but a feeling of termites making way inside my heart shaped box. Nobody recited Hemingway for me and I watched the sun come up,

I went to work like all men do, but deeply knowing,

“I fell victim to a black widow dressed in red and nothing else.”

Advertisements

Jasmine over roses

Standard

For all it is worth
I do not think you will ever
Grasp the idea of what you mean to me
In a garden full of roses
I found a precious jasmine
And I always loved the smell of it
The white petals like stardust on earth
I imagine stardust to be white as well
And that is how much you mean to me
A jasmine in a field of roses
Forever and ever
I will always pick the jasmine
Over the roses in the world
And by that I mean
You’re the only one

Pretty&Broken-11

Standard

I remember kneeling on the floor as tears made way down my cheeks. People said if you prayed when it rained then it would come true and God listens if the motive is pure.
I prayed during thunderstorms. I clasped my hands and begged in the darkest hours of the night. I wished on shooting stars and made strangers bless me, too.
I was helpless against the universe because I wanted something-my missing part-for the world to make sense to me.
Till, I realized
Scrapping my knees at the shrine with empty prayers escaping my breath is not going to help in finding myself. The thunder in my lungs and the fire in my eyes is not going to give me answers.
That,
I have to learn from the path I take and there will be plenty of paths I will chalk out and venture before I find the right one.I will meet a million crossroads in life and might have to dust myself up and begin, again. I realized that I need to be kind to myself and others as well because we all bleed the same color and we will meet at the ultimate path at the end.
I realized, in the search of finding myself-stop looking around-but start the search from within.

Ballerina

Standard

The ballerina unchained herself
The shackles of despair broke off
In the air her muse played
She swayed with the fading memories
Under the dim lights of her glory
Her steps lingered with glitter
It rained whiskey that night
He swayed with her under the shadows
Held her close and pour love down her soul
The ballerina danced on her feet
Claiming freedom and love
He swayed with her
Because
Finally, chaos found its light.

Keep your class clean

Standard

The inside of the room was reduced to rubbles and thick dust covered whatever remained. Bleak sun rays entered the room and illuminated it how a thousand cannonballs of colors collide and disperse producing nothing but white in the end. The light reflected on one of the desks remaining covered with heavy dust. She could still read words written in white thick marker, “Heart shaped box”. At once, a face came to her mind and she caught herself smiling. Even standing in between the ruins of a place she once cherished, there she was, standing and smiling at the words. Of course, Selena had written them. She loved Kurt Cobain. She remembered how Afghani down the end of the market sold old cassettes of American and European bands at high price because it was forbidden and you had to be careful in purchasing them. Her walk down the memory lane was small lived and soon she found herself sneezing because the dust was getting to her. She pulled her scarf ends over her face and only her eyes could be seen as she examined the room. It was as if she wanted to soak it all in, the before and after of it all and never let it out of her memory. She wanted it deeply engraved on the density of her cerebrum.

The room smelled of gun powder and smoke with a tint of pine smell from the forest nearby. It’s a miracle how nature has the tendency to mix with even the catastrophically ruined things in life and make them appear beautiful or still give them a small piece of beauty so that they too can glimmer like nature does in all its glory. The walls that were once covered with bright posters that she and her friends made, were now torn and some on the ground. A piece of the wall from the left side of the room was completely on the ground and the bricks scattered along the way giving room for animals to enter-mainly mice-to come and make home. She heard the birds, she heard the rattle sound from down the street but it was unfamiliar. The sounds she used to hear so often during the old times, the sounds that were familiar back then now carried unfamiliarity in them and she could sense it. Some sounds were missing like laughter, talking and mainly joy.

She walked over the broken wooden chairs and distorted desks. The blackboard still had 12/01/2015 written on it. Present 25. Absent 2. She saw chalks on the floor spilled out like a psychedelic pattern and the teachers chair intact. She saw a piece of poster on the floor and picked it up. Sweeping off the dirt it read, “Ye apki class hai, isay saaf rakhna apka kaam hai kyun k safai nisf iman hai” (This is your class and keeping it clean is your responsibility because cleanliness is half of faith).

She read the lines a few times and then looked over her surrounding-ruined. How was she to explain to God if he asked? That religious extremist won’t get that they just took half of her iman (faith) from her in the process of destroying her school.

An open letter to my valentine

Standard

Dear ,
sugar plum covered in honey

I love you. I know these three little words can never express all that I feel for you but let me just give it a try? I’ve been staring at the sky for too long because the constellations formed your name and I don’t want to gaze at anything except your name across the melancholic soaked night that gave me happiness. You’re the glimmer of happiness that makes me forget every worry.

You are far and in between us lay, vast deserts and the seven seas but the farther you are the more closer you seem. We share this bond that overcomes all the obstacles life throws at us and you’ve become familiar to me like my reflection in the mirror.
If I could I would run to you, walk to you and even crawl with all my might but I’m afraid that the vast distance might break my bones and shatter my skin-I wouldn’t reach to you in one piece.

Forgive me, for tonight all I have are words to offer. Words that are laced with promises of a future where we are together. A writer can only bleed the love she has on parchment and for you? I can write an eternity and not get tired.

Our future is like us, dark, wrecked and cold but among our ruins we will build a home and I swear, your smile is all I need to survive. For a while now, my world has shifted and tumbled. Not in the sense that the ground shook and the sky fell but in a way that the previous version I so cherished does not make sense to me anymore. My world revolving around your entity makes more sense.

Our tragic tale with all the beauty of this world has two princesses who fell in love and no matter what, you will always ride shotgun. You can have bits of me that are still beautiful and I will cherish parts of you that are broken, as if they are mine. You won’t be chained down by the past and I won’t be bothered about the future. The present will be ours and like two gypsies in love, we will live off the kindness this universe has to offer. I want to experience the life I have left with you by my side and nothing else.

So, as I ink this down there is only one thing my fragile heart dare to asks, will you be my valentine now and forever?

With love,
Sheher Bano

Pretty&Broken-1

Standard

 

The truth is I’m frightened. Everyone is in life. However, I’m a bit more terrified at the thought of being vulnerable. I like to write prose and poems on love and life.

“Be free, wild hearts!”, I say, “Fall in love and kiss in the rain.”

 

The truth is that I’m a hypocrite. I’m the biggest hypocrite, I know and I know plenty.

I don’t allow myself the love that I preach to the world.

I’m a coward. I look for shelter in the rain. I don’t dance in it.

I pen down love and life. I spill poetry like vodka and intoxicate hearts.

I’m terrific at making people fall in love with me.

Not the constant.

 

 

I will write you love poems and tell you to give your heart away. The truth is that when it comes to myself, all I have is an out of tune heart beat and some lies to give.

Her twisted world

Standard

The voices around her grew clear and the colors faded away washing everything in the shades of dark black till there was no difference whether she had her eyes closed or open. In the dark chamber where she had confined herself mentally now took on a more realistic appearance or maybe she was just hallucinating like always. It is a great feeling to hallucinate and create the surroundings you want. Sometimes, an escape from the real world and a lapse into her own world was one of the sweetest moments she relished just like a child relishes on the last piece of candy.
Here no failures or defeats existed but only a sense of sheer deadness that held all the serenity and peace she ever wanted in life. The sound of the water dripping grew clear. Drop by drop onto the wooden floor. There she lay still as wood becoming more aware of her body pressing against the coldness that came from the open window. The fan slowly hummed the sound of a moth. The clock made its usual ticking sound and here she realized that each tick represented a moment of the past. All she heard were noiseless noises that occupied her mind as she lay. Darkness had instilled into her bones and crept through her veins marking each territory.
She felt her hands moving around her. She traced the outline of the wooden floor and kept reaching out as an attempt to grasp something but not expecting to catch it. Finally, her hands touched what seemed like another body. What was that she touched? Was there someone else in the room with her? She got up in a hurry but couldn’t make out what it was because everywhere she looked, darkness encompassed her. Trembling hands and with a fast heartbeat she made out the outline of what seemed like a body. After tracing out the curves and ridges did she land on what seemed to be the thud of a heart. Thud! Thud!
It was alive. It was breathing, but too dark to distinguish anything. Her patience was running out and she craved for a source of light to make out who it was. She never hoped for a day when she would be wishing for the light so badly, but here she kneeled on the body trying to find the light to see who it was.
Until, it moved. The body move and she moved back scared at whoever it may be. Her heart anticipated of something mixed with fear but hope. The man opened its eyes to reveal gold color lights. The gold color illuminated all in its path and she made out a strong jaw line and a manly face wearing a stern look. The silhouette showed some features clearly while others remained a blur,
“You are?” she said in a trembling voice
“I am you childish redemption. I am your sin of lonely nights. I am the love you deceived in pursuit of lust. I am the innocence you exchanged for cleverness”
The body laid itself down, again. The words were being digested by her mind when she saw the body melt into the ground like it never existed. It was gone now but the words remained still in the air with the same heaviness.
The dark grew strong and the sound of water splashing on the wooden board continued. The fan hummed the same tune and she sat there becoming more aware than ever. Maybe, she was hallucinating again.