Tempted

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Around me people exchanged hugs and pleasantries, partying merrily. There was a variety of food and drinks to keep everyone busy and content, but I felt I didn't belong. It was just not my idea of a party. I was bored to death and longed for company.

That’s when I saw her. For a few moments, it seemed as though the world had ceased to exist. God, she was stunning! An angel, a dark eyed beauty with soft, silky locks that fell on her shoulders. I was captivated by her looks and grace and felt a sudden urge to strike a conversation with her. I looked at her eagerly, each moment filling me with a magical feeling. She was truly magnetic.

She was with a friend, laughing about something. I stood there rooted, my heart racing and my thoughts running wild. That was when she spotted me and locked her beautiful eyes with mine. I imagined she had smiled at me. A wave of determination swept me towards her. She looked even more beautiful close up and I had to clench my fist to stop myself from stroking her tender cheeks. Would she mind if I held her hand? Or shared my feelings? I struggled to restrain my thoughts.

That was when I remembered my mom’s words “Never talk to strangers.” I looked away and slowly walked back to where mom and dad sat. A little disappointed, but happy at having resisted the temptation. “ I have to tell mom about this” I thought. Being a four year old wasn't as easy as she thought.

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Jealous

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Helen

Tonight is the grand finale of the much hyped Fashion Week which will see film stars and celebrities of the glamour world. I stare at my reflection as the make-up artist smears rouge on my cheeks. I am beautiful, easily the best model in the industry apart from Kate. But in a couple of hours that will be taken care of. She will no longer be a distraction.

Cythilicus is a powdery material obtained by drying rose petals in the dark and scraping their surface with a blade. It triggers itching upon contact with body parts which can last up to a few hours. I have managed to get hold of it in time for the finale.

Kate

Tonight is special. I have been the show stopper on most of the ramps I have walked. Today it is no different. There is a reason why I am a crowned beauty. My passion and years of dedicated hard work, nothing else. Whatever shortcuts she takes, Helen is not going to be able to change that.

Cythilicus can cause severe itches but I sincerely hope she recovers soon. I slip into another gown, and smile at my reflection. It was a well-planned “last minute swap” with Helen. She was caught unaware as Kevin, whose signature collection we are here to flaunt, and I gave her the news just before the show began. Funnily, the gown she will be wearing is a deep green.

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Disgust

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Around her the crew members were buzzing with activity fixing lights, testing the sound system, shouting, giving and receiving instructions. The choreographer ran up to her panting “Let’s try the new moves for today’s song Ma’am. She sipped some juice, swept up her hair in a ponytail and took her position. She watched the steps being demoed. Now it was her turn.

All eyes were on her, the beautiful supermodel tuned actress. “One, two three….” Loud Hindi music filled the entire set. The lyrics and notes blared into the cool morning air. The song went on to describe the heroine as a piece of tandoori chicken, one whose snap was worthy of being glued to one’s chest. The crowd that had gathered to watch whistled and hooted, pleased with the flowing words that objectified women, depicting them as just an easy means of pleasure.

She was horrified upon seeing people laughing and cheering at the cheap lyrics. She didn't find it amusing at all. In fact, she found it disgusting. For the first time in her acting career, she found herself reflecting about the roles she had portrayed so far. What was it about the twists and turns of her hip, songs with repulsive lyrics and women in arm candy roles that attracted such a fan following?

She was in a fix. But ultimately she decided to bow out of the assignment. She knew of the risks. The labels that would be slapped onto her. Betrayer. Arrogant. There could even be legal issues. Worse, offers to do films would dwindle. But she was sure she didn't want to be a piece of chicken or jalebi anymore.







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Matchmaking

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Parents frantic, seek a match

people applaud as a good catch,

squeamish about qualifications essential

probing if incomes are substantial.

Essential is a job quite decent,

 with no stage in life quiescent

height and weight just perfect

complexion that doesn't deject.

Family name, fame and wealth,

education, hobbies and health

supersede matters of the heart

for a secure married life to start.

With the essentials in place

man and woman see face to face,

the best of them they showcase

lest they fall behind in the race.

In lightning speed vows are made

elaborate plans are then laid;

a game of luck has just begun

hope it turns out to be some fun.

P.S: This poem is written in lighter vein about the Arranged Marriage Market in India. It is in no way intended to hurt any one’s feelings. The debate over Arranged vs Love marriages is never ending. It works differently for different people. Ultimately all that matters is one’s happiness in life. Happy Holi!

Written for the prompt "Essential" at B-A-R
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Compare not

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When they first saw the infant,

they spotted at that very instant

a squint of the eye, a scar on the thigh,

and deeply pondered why.

“The older one was fat and fair

with flawless skin and ample hair.”

they quipped in keen observation,

summarizing their evaluation.

Ensued a long, tiring journey

dodging and ducking their baloney;

comparisons many different kinds

conjured up in crooked minds.

Adolescence, youth, middle age;

the war never ceased to wage,

mediocre minds catching up

on stories of not matching up.

Isn't each one beautifully unique?

Do they deserve your hefty critique?

Pry open the windows of your mind

to new vistas, leaving comparisons behind.

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The Evil Eye

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You can see me here and there

a red faced demon with an ugly stare,

chillies and lemons on a thread,

as the evil eye all do dread.

A black dot on a toddler's face

or on any beautiful space;

I distract all negativity

cradling them within, in captivity.

I gather the evil glances

from eyes where jealousy dances;

guarding health and happiness,

prosperity and prettiness.

I wonder, this evil eye,

isn’t it just another big lie?

I’ve been getting it all along

but so far nothing’s gone wrong.

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Unscarred

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I watched you walk away jilted

your face hung low and wilted,

I chose to keep you away

setting your thoughts in disarray.

I believed I had a choice

I was polite and made no noise,

it was my life, my decision;

that upset your planned precision.

But you came back unexpected

to show me you were dejected,

with a few drops of acid you spoke

and burnt my dreams down to smoke.

Brave, the warrior in me fought,

you thought I’d give up, distraught?

I battled the bruise and the blister

unwilling to succumb to the disaster.

I am not the body you scarred

whose features you savagely charred,

survives my spirit, strong as ever

keeping me bold and beautiful forever.





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Beauty therapy

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“You have very dry skin

and a very hairy shin.

A face laden with freckles

and wrinkles on your knuckles.”

“The hair so dry and frizzy

makes me feel so dizzy,

your curls a maddening mane

isn't combing it a pain?”

“Your heels sport many cracks

and below the eyes two dark sacks.

It’s strange you neglect beauty

That’s part of feminine duty.”

I who had never cared

Got so very scared,

wondered if I’d lose my beloved

who I had just recently wedded.

So drawing some courage

from the beautiful image

that my friends painted of me-

creamy, steamy, dreamy and filmy,

I entered the world of mirrors

that loudly proclaimed my errors,

to scrub myself to glamour,

to be my spouse’s charmer.

“Why-o-why you never came before,

dear girl who looks like a wild boar?”

remarked the concerned therapist

about my beauty in a gist.

My nightmare began- waxing,

threading, steaming......taxing.

Massage, pedicure and manicure

and other things too obscure.

I paid a heavy price

with tears in my eyes

Bleached face with rashes

that scorched my skin to ashes

“You've become too different

queer sight, feel and scent.”

His words filled regret in my head

As we lay two strangers on the bed.

The happiness bubble

Her excitement was overwhelming. She beamed and grinned as she stood in front of the huge shiny mirror in her bedroom. She scrutinized herself again and again. She couldn’t afford to make the slightest mistake. She tried various kinds of smiles and finally settled for the one that was restricted to the outline of her scarlet red lips. A smile that was never destined to reach her eyes. Quickly, she marked her mental checklist- the stylish hairdo, with a few careless strands that framed her face, the flawless make-up that hid the shadows around her eyes and the horrible freckles and blemishes, her smooth and supple skin that was newly waxed, the tastefully chosen diamond jewellery that was custom made to look just like the one a woman flaunted at a party few days ago, her designer sari that was sure to steal the show and the stilettoes that cost a bomb but elevated her to “a higher level”. Perfect.

Pleased with her efforts, she dabbed some perfume and nodded at her husband. He noticed the grief and loneliness in her eyes that the make-up couldn’t hide but chose against speaking about it. He got the car keys and prepared to lock the door. She almost forgot her precious Louis Vuitton! She cursed herself for her negligence, grabbed it from the closet and got into the car.

They drove in silence as usual. They had nothing to say to each other. For the past twenty years, their relationship had been engulfed by a strange kind of silence. Convenient, because there were no loud fights that turned eyes in their direction, because they were free to weave their dreams and desires into a cocoon around them and nest peacefully in its warmth. She adorned herself with an aura of confidence that sometimes dangerously lurked near arrogance  to hide her insecurities; while he thought of the jokes he would crack at the party to mask his desperation and emptiness. She thought she was happy. She mentally rehearsed her carefully chosen response to all the compliments she would be showered with.

They arrived at the venue that was tastefully decorated with the finest fragrant flowers and soothing lights. There was colour, music, food, chatter, whispers, laughter and clinking of glasses everywhere. She felt glad as people stole glances at her. Some with envy and some with admiration. Her happiness knew no bounds as people admired her attire, jewellery, bag and almost everything about her. So what if her husband did not notice her, so what if they were strangers sharing a bed? She was admired by so many people here at the party. Everyone loved her diamonds. They were jealous of the LV she clutched. She forgot her grief and erased the loneliness that had stealthily crept into her life. She was the star of the show tonight. She was haloed by an endless bubble of happiness.

Suddenly, everyone’s attention was drawn to the black Mercedes that pulled up at the parking lot. Out came a young lady who wore bigger diamonds and a more expensive dress. Everyone was breath taken by her beauty and style. The endless bubble of happiness popped with a bang. But of course, there was another party coming up.

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