Monday, September 21, 2009


Nope. That will be too much of a pain. Ugly, eh? What is beautiful? Arcs chiseled out of marble and rubbed and nipped and polished and turned into glass? Wow! How delicate! How brittle! How lovely! Yes, one might stare enthralled, the lower jaw hanging loose, the tongue pink and slimy, drenched in excessively overflowing salivation- I know it feels natural that way. But I would rather have the saliva inside my mouth, thank you, around the bit of white gum playing inside, the flavor of mint painting my lips dull.

Jafran is also sweet. Expensive though. They charge it very high in the restaurants. Along with the rice, or mutton, or aloo, or other palatable delicacies. The scent of garlic remains for ages after the tummy has been vacated and new smells have filled the olfactory lobes afresh. Garlic never stinks!! Who said so? Then rose water stinks too. And onions. And vanilla essence. Or say, sandalwood.

Yet, sandalwood incense sticks are so nauseating! My head aches. But then, aches are a cliché too. Every poet talks it wild. Talks and talks and talks it until you drop dead. Death is a little weird thing to deal with. All the dying, crying, being sad, fasting, grief, tears, photographs, garlands, flashbacks, whiteness, grayness, sepia, clothes, bed sheets, diaries, rooms, discussions, silences, strange implications meant to be understood…

Do yawns give everyone a double chin?

Skin-deep beauty is quite costly. But a good chin is a god’s gift. I don’t know his name. But gods are always he and goddesses she. Or is it not so? I don’t care! We don’t have to learn the genders any more.

I told you that I did not want more. I forgot to tell you that I simply detested less. And it is always less. Not always, but often. Many times. At least sometimes.

Sometimes I stand by the window too long. And catch cold in the incoming gusts of rain-wind. It cools my reddened ears. The veins in my eyes relax. And I passionately dig my nose for little chunks of toxins filtered by the hair.

No way. I cannot be pretty. We are too poor for this. And moreover I cannot endure too much pain. Ugly beauty is less painful and more affordable. Can I have a bit of that, mister?


  1. A bold one, too bold sometimes, too bold for the "mister"s to handle I suppose. But that's why I like it. It's uncomfortable. And I like the picture too, for the same reason almost.

  2. "Thou shalt pay the price as choosing excruciating pain in order to rdefine your beauty!"

    Some people don't need to redefine. They are as they are.

  3. all those who yawn dnt beget dobbol chins, some chin up and write such stuff :) phenomenal, woman!

  4. @Swagatokti: I love to make the 'mister' uncomfortable!! I r-e-a-l-l-y LOVE!!
    It gives me the pleasure of sucking a strawberry and licking its juice. Yummmm...

    @Mr. Tambourine Man: :)
    Somewhere, somewhere inside, it is probably more painful to be "They are as they are".
    But of course, one has a choice. How lucky!!

    @key: :D
    i say,
    it's in the arch of my back,
    the sun of my smile,
    the ride of my breasts,
    the grace of my style.
    i'm a woman

    phenomenal woman,
    that's me.