Corridors of Lust

Tower of Love

And the story teller always says "and they lived happily ever after" after each fairy tale. Really??!! Who saw that? Was there a 'happily ever after'?

So the shoe fit and Prince Charming got married to Cinderella. And one fine day they realised they were both in their 30s with three brats. Prince Charming was busy with the administration of his kingdom and

Locked up by you in this

tower of love,

I search for you

in my thoughts and in my

dreams, only to be woken up

in colourful nightmares.

Only I see you when I

am awake,

holding hands with

someone else, while

mine are groping for

the key that you have

thrown away.

There are no more stories

right now.

No more words that flow.

No more tears I can

wipe with this stale

handkerchief.

Sita's Walk-2

Sita Janaki, Princess of Mithila, daughter of King Janaka, was the not the easiest to please. Her father, Kin Janaka, was finding it hard to find her a husband, arranges a Swayamvara where a princess can chose her own husband from the assembly of Princes, Warriors, Kings, merchants and learned men. And this time he arranges a contest where each participant will have to string Pinaka, Shiva’s bow and hit a target. When the king informs Sita about the Swayamvara, she has a few words with him.

She looks at him with steel in her eyes

and asks “What do you mean, win

me in marriage father?

Am I a chattel, an object, a prize 

to be won? Look at me, I am,

the daughter of a king,

a Kshatriya who can lift the Pinaka,

Shiva’s bow with one hand!

I am a singer, a dancer,

a princess and a warrior!”

She raises her voice, “Why can’t I follow my heart?

Why this Swayamvar? Who will be this man?

Is he a warrior or a king?

He might be a prince of his land, but will

he be a prince of my heart?”

And she whispers softly and firmly

“Will he be MY equal?”

First rains...

Rain rain rain...the first rains are here...

I am sitting on my terrace and watching thunder clouds. The cool wind is ferocious, trying to wipe out the remnants of summer. I try to imagine what earth must be feeling. Earth, brown, dusty and bone weary and pining for his touch, waits in anticipation; waiting and watching for a lover to come home and quench her thirst. It seems like a thousand years since he has held her in his arms. Longing for his return, she looks often at the lightning and thunder, imagining his footsteps.

And when he comes, he comes home with all the glory of a warrior returning to his beloved. And she, she runs up to him and opens up to his embrace...

This rain...sweet rain,

tastes of you

rolling over my tongue

drenching me

in your embrace.

This rain...sings

warm melodies,

whispers of a forgotten

longing,

in your breathless voice.

This rain...touching,

flowing,

moving into my soul,

making me shiver and sigh.

This rain...dripping

from you to me

folding, enfolding

warmth and wetness.

This rain...dark rain,

ignites memories...

quenches my thirst.