2 days

New York
21st July 2002
09:55 pm

This wasn’t her first time of repeating the same fault. But it was a quiet accidental incident this time though. She was terrified about her mom’s reaction, and hence that young girl decided to stay outside the main door of her home on that misty midnight, eagerly waiting for her step dad’s arrival from the work site. Isha, that was her name. Born as an Indian by birth and currently residing in New York along with her mom and step dad for 3 years. She lost her dad in a plane crash when she was 6. The incident had seriously put a negative impact for her small family and Isha completely lost herself personally after the disaster. Radhika, her mom always shouted at this young-beautiful teenager’s naughty and lazy actions for no reason in everything Isha do and that was why she really did hate her own mom and loved being in contact with Robin, her step dad. Even on that shivery cold climatic condition, her only intention was to wait for Robin to get back home.

22nd July 2002
12:15 am

Gradually, the climatic conditions started to change. The temperature began to fall down drastically and Isha felt so unsafe with it. She couldn’t withstand the naive climatic condition present there anymore with the jacket she had, but still lacked the confidence for knocking the door just behind her. Suddenly she noticed a fatty-middle aged women who were in a traditional Indian saree wear with a black sweater above it, opened the door in a much louder voice.

“Isha…! Where were you?”, she shouted.

“Mom…! I was… I was at Rohan’s home. We had a few common discussions regarding the project that must be submitted on tomorrow.”, Isha said in a hurry.

“I see…! How dare did you lie to me?

“I don’t think so, Mom. Believe me if you can! Even if you can’t, please do leave me alone. You see, I’m too tired and need some sleep now.”

“Are you a hooker or night bar girl to come back home so early like this? Huh? Let me see what I could do on your case. Get in for now!”

Isha painfully accepted the stout lady’s trust and faith on her and looked like a half-witted girl, still in a shy mood. 

“Why under the name of holy shit she had given birth to a girl like me”, she thought.

“Get in……!”, Radhika proclaimed at her unlucky daughter again.

Isha estranged herself from mom by walking directly towards her room upstairs. She locked the door from inside for avoiding another war fight of words between her and mom. While sitting on the bed in an angry mood, the young girl came to note a beautiful, but the upset image of a girl in the mirror which was held opposite to her bed. Isha, in a hurry, started to follow the mirror like someone who hadn’t ever seen her reflection on a long glass piece and willing to find the dynamic reason behind its magical appearance. She stood there in an excitement for doing an experimental naughty action, which might even lead to the origin of another stewed observation from her mom’s side. She stripped off her clothes one by one, from the jacket to panties.

She gazed at her nakedness, enlarged breasts, red marks on both sides of the stomach, and hid the vaginal region with both fingers, as if something had happened! While looking at the mirror, she viewed a teenager who had lost herself and beyond the self-control few hours back at her boy friend’s home. The time they had spent together, on a common bed, might be the right opportunity to her boyfriend who had been waiting for a moment like this since they’re in relationship. But for her? She didn’t really mean to be a part of a physical activity with him. At one point, they did it, although she wasn’t mentally prepared to have sex for the very first time with a guy.

After taking a deep breath, Isha took the marker pen that was placed on the table below the mirror’s frame.

‘I’m not seeking for a life she deserves, this is all about me. Only me!’
Isha

Writing this in an orderly fashion on the mirror, her eyes were filled with tears. She laughed out loudly at those scripts she had written and went back to the lucid-stately memories years back she had with her dad. 

22nd July 2012
07:30 am

“Isha! Open the door. Hello…”, Robin yelled from outside of the room, though only the stagnant sound of the moving clock’s needle was heard from inside. Robin felt something went wrong regarding the atmosphere he had been facing there, and hence pulled the door from outside to break the chains his sweet daughter had kept. 

It wasn’t the right moment for a lovely dad to see her daughter’s lifeless body dangled on a strong piece of rope there! At one corner of the room, his young daughter’s randomly scribbled words were shining in a very meaningful pattern in the mirror. Perhaps, it included everything as a description against what she was…

Photo credits: Google

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She is mine


I pampered her all through the paths in my world.

Not with an unruffled objective,

But for the notary rights,

Semantic interests,

Explicit belief,

Harmonious wishes,

And ‘something‘ she owns in me.

I don’t know what it is,

Or why didn’t I ask her about it yet.

When she comes nearer to me,

A doubtless incarnation will spell around me.

She knows,

I’m ‘everything‘ for her.

But still, I don’t know,

Why she is more than ‘anything‘ for me.

When she kisses me,

I can’t keep my adrenaline rush to control the normal human desire,

Perhaps, they are just emotions;

Can be controlled or not?

I wish,

Nope, I could control it.

If I can’t,

What’s the difference between me and a rapist for her?

When ‘ice’ & ‘warmth’ gets closer!

No one cared about her,

Even her adopted mom who has flown over heights.

She was shy,

Innocent,

Beautiful,

Instructive minded,

And a versatile soul.

Once her agile connivance attracts me,

I proposed her with a wish of an erratic lover.

She rejects it at first,

But accepts it during my second attempt.

We walked all through the nebulous paths,

Shared our medley dreams together,

Crossed our hands in the meadow,

Allowing the glittering flashes of sunlight to pass via voids in between,

She hugged me like an exotic charm,

I too,

Adore my love with fingers on her face.

My honey is in an avid mood for something more,

More than ‘more’,

Wish to melt as an ice in the warmth of my heart,

Kill me without any sort of pain,

Showers over me with her enticement.

She placed her angst in my soul and tell me,

I love ya loads,

I love ya more than anything.

Is this what we call as a miracle?

I looked at her repressive eyes over my head,

Looking forward to feel something more,

She adjourns her lips to mine,

And eyes closed,

Fingers closed.

My Love

My Love

I wish for a closer hug from her heart

Not just a disdainful one,

But an unforgettable glib forever.

I wish to keep her eyes closer to mine

Not just for fun,

But to show her my love forever.

I wish to kiss on her lips

Not just a romantic one,

But as a conspicuous moment forever.

I wish to remain under her illustrious shadow

Not for a melodramatic sequence,

But as an infatuated fare forever.

We wish to lead our life together

Not to show others that we are in relationship,

But to live and love each other in those eloquent days together.

Acerbic Life

When the agonizing unexpected events laughs at me,

It might dig himself into the firearms of pains,

Kills me with its deep discordant intensity,

And the mordant glory of sadness strikes throughout his ways.

Sooner or later, some winsome questions arise in his mind!

How could this happen again and again for me?

Am I such an unlucky human being?

Will this haunt me all along my life?

Where were you my hidden unflattering ALMIGHTY?

Are you a FACT or NOT?

Or else, shall I have to make a realistic END or NOT?

Cogitation


My heart pardons for a fault I did

Illicit gaffe of disruptive spike

Blindness and dumbness all through the life

Holding breath for the existence of HOPE

Restless thoughts of repentant portraits

Persecutions warm up into the inner soul

Rousing divinity and peace recreates in my mind

Hidden scabrous feelings conspire as a SCAR.

Who am I?

What makes me as an exceptional guy from other individuals in this widely extended world,

Is not just some physical appearances that depends on the tortuous patents of genetic factors.

Those who knows me would call my name,

Which mayn’t gives any uniqueness for me.

Those who follows me will be some statures,

Which definitely prolongs on the relationship statuses we own.

I would be a son or brother or friend or at least a social being for them,

Who may or mayn’t have a flamboyant closeness with me.

It’s all because of my firsthand personality, character and attitude,

That reveals the denseness of  mine as a strip under this semantic living tag.

          Thanks,
           Rahul