Indian - elevators

As far as I can remember as a kid I always wanted to get into one of those magical cubes. Doors open and shut magically and with just a press of button you are there. When I got near one I always remembered the star trek dialogue “beam me”.
As I grew older and I see them daily the only thing I feel now is “God why are both elevators unavailable, how much time does it take”. Don’t get me wrong we Indians lack certain civic sense we press the stop lift button first and then we impatiently wait for couple of minutes and then we take stairs making it very irritating for the people who are already in the elevator which stops at every floor and each stop may look like an eternity. Anyway who are already in the elevator think as if they own it.
Those long q’s to no q’s, people pushing each other as if it’s a stairway to heaven and those funny smells one experiences in a closed capsule are indescribable. I practically try to hold my breath as much as I can and I give up just before I go hypoxic. Now the only thing that compels me to take an elevator now are my lazy bones.

“Sweet fowder face”

Today I accidently came across her profile picture on orkut. I saw her picture in a friends account. Yes she looks beautiful in her ceremonial dress as all she always did for me. “Sweet fowder face”. She exactly dressed herself how I would have loved her to be but fate had decided more agony for me.

Here I lay crying and dosing myself with chemicals while she is getting ready for her new partner. Why do people disturb a peaceful soul and why do people make promises and make them false. God am I not your precious child? Couldn’t you just smile at me once?

Is it so much of a sin to love a person? Is it a sin wanting to share life with someone when you are not completely independent? Why it is so hard for people to trust me is it because God has already written on my face incapable? I had my answers a long time ago in one way or the other but accepting the truth means letting her go and I can’t do that. I will bear the pain, I will cry a river and I will eat medications but I refuse to part myself from her memories. Sorrow and bitterness have become life and I am ok with it.

I guess death is the easier way out of this. If only my mum could live without me. If only I can break a promise.

GOD Vs ME

I thought I was indomitable but here am begging mercy from a girl who broke my heart into thousand pieces and called it her right of choice.
What I was and what I am now? Who can better respond but shattered myself.
I lost precious time, myself and will I be able to pick myself up from this? I never know.
To all of you; who say it is destiny and its God’s will; please open up your minds and stop involving divinity in your selfish and deceitful feats.
I wish to believe in righteousness but how can I? When God himself is being sold out by the puny deeds the bad do to wash their misdeeds, do I want help? Or do I want to believe in such omnipotent? Should I?
If he can answer, I have questions. Why am I suffering when it is me who believed in him and wanted good for her. Is it because my wish came true at the cost of my life?
Why am I pleading for peace of mind to go about my existence and the wrongdoer is all blissful making a new relationship for her selfish intent and finds my grief a thing of mockery and weakness? Well when bargains can be made with almighty himself; I am tempted to do so too.
“Take my life or give back my innocence and never again let me not fall a victim of some ones right.”

What becomes of an option?

As I sit thru the sleepless nights staring at the darkest corner; tears run over my face and I think of all pitiful times that I have spent in recent past that brought me to this stage. I feel like yelling out for freedom but I am tied down by my ethics. The same ethics those don’t let me talk of my pain and sorrow. But something’s have to be spoken even if it hurts others because after all being selfish is what I have learnt from the famous her.
As I try to pass my day thinking of me; working hard to reach my goal; the voice echoes in my head. They are repetitive and punishing and they are;

“You are a thirty year old dumb guy who could not prove yourself in the time I have given you and you will never settle in your life. I want easy life and so I can’t be with you anymore”

“Come on what kind of a man are you? I am telling you I don’t want to be with you anymore; I want to settle down in US. I want easy life and I don’t think you will ever settle down or get residency in US. You don’t even have US visa”. “Why should I come back to you because we had sex?”

“If you want to die; you die. Please don’t call me and try to make me feel guilty I don’t think the antidepressants you are taking are working. Double up the dose. Are you taking them properly coz they don’t seem to reduce your madness?”


These are the words that came out of mouth of a person who I loved the most and who wanted to spend rest of her life with me. This is the person who wanted to become pregnant with my child so she can marry me.

She used to be terrified of the eunuchs on the streets at the same time when they mention how nice we look together she used to go to cloud nine. But this is the same girl who suggested me to sleep around with other girls so to get over her. I bet that’s what she is doing now and she doesn’t even need to get over me as long as she is offered American visa and dollars.

What’s the price I paid when someone decided to turn to be a bitch for American dream..... A whole lot of life.