Nostalgic

Hmm…it’s mid of January and typical Delhi winters are going on. People have come out of their dens to warm up this chilly evening. I can see a bonfire from my window. People seem to be merry. Some are dancing around the bonfire, some are singing traditional Punjabi songs while a few couples are sitting behind, holding hands; so much lost in their own world that they are hardly taking part in the chatting session that has just begun.

Aha…it’s not a usual day….its Lohri.

I’m upstairs and mine is the only room in the 9-storeied building that’s incandescent in the otherwise bonfire-lit evening. Perhaps, I’m the only one who’s not present at Lohri get-together. Someone just looked at me from there. Err…I put down the curtains, switch off the incandescent tube.

1…2….3….4…..5…I take out 5 amorous, aromatic candles and light them one by one. I turn on the juke box.

Everything I do……
If you had my love
I’m keeping you forever and for always….


Followed by-
I just died in your arms tonight….
My heart will go on…
Here without you….

It’s getting hotter here and something’s happening to me now. All of a sudden, I’m feeling so cozy, so romantic and so very nostalgic. 5…10…15 minutes pass by. My eyes become wet. I rub them with my fingers. What’s going on? I guess, I’m missing someone/something badly. My heart knows what it could be-maybe someone’s presence if not ‘company’. He’d said ours was never meant to be. I believe him(with a heavy heart though).

I take the earphones out of my ears, thrash down the bloody juke box against the cold floor. I blow out the candles. I can’t take it anymore. I go downstairs where others are, with an intention of distracting myself. Even there, my eyes are meeting the eyes of those couples at the back. I am just about to cry. Yay! Its 12 o’clock. People have called off.

Everyone retires to their respective flats. I also come upstairs, wearing an artificial smile. Straight-away, I slip into my blanket in the hope that sleep would come to my rescue. 10 minutes….30 minutes…2 hours. I can’t sleep. Tears start erupting out. I cry till my pillow is all wet, till I am all whacked.

Tomorrow again, I’ll kick this misery out of my mind, succumbing to Delhi’s busyness.

Pr@GnY@

Now Is The Time

Nasty ogles, sexual harassments, eve-teasing, assaults, rapes and murders.
If you are a DELHIITE then you must be used to these words, isn’t it? Delhi was never safe for us and I guess it won’t ever be.
What are we supposed to do? Stop going to schools/colleges, malls, keeping male servants, using DTC/bluelines, auto-rickshaws, driving late, looking good, is that what we are supposed to do, huh? Or should we just sit at home, cursing our insecurity? Should we just accept the fact that Delhi men are perverts and we can’t do anything about it? Should we stop living freely?
Enough is enough. It’s high time now, we’re sick of it. Gear up Dilli-Wallis. It’s time for us to show our other side(no puns intended here)
We have that audacity, we have the power and we will be the victor. Now is the time.