Part two: ‘the story that didnt have a happily ever after’

I was 19 when I was forced into marrying a 26 years old fierce looking man, Zaigham Hassan Ali. I then was too young to probe the depths of personalities and handle kinship affairs, but old enough to understand that marriage would only mean a bar to my freedom. It turned out to be a useless fear, soon after the ceremony was over, I realized that he was the most charming person I would ever meet, who’d love me enough to make living a surreal fairytale for me, where he was the King and I – the queen. Continue reading


Note: I wrote this piece some three years back, adding a little more to it and posting here. Suicide. I think when you kill your conscience, and stop listening to it. You commit a suicide.

“I am planning to jump off the roof.”

“Planning again ?”

“yeah, yeah again, and this time I am Firm.”

“Oh, We’ll see…”



She rested her palm softly onto the wooden slab of the table and slightly leaned forward.

“Look, I am no good”

“You never were”

Eyes grew wide in exasperation. Color rushed to her cheeks.

“Yes. Yes! I deserve to be killed”

“I didn’t say that”

Pupil dilated in frustration.

“Oh yea? I can listen to all what you say and what you don’t”

“Sigh! You never could”


“There was always a guardian angel for you, you never looked back”

“And I never will” she spit out.

“So when?”

“When? When what?”

“When – when you are jumping off?”

“Jumping? Uh, Tonight. Yes Tonight. Tonight”

“But, why?”

“Why?” she decided to give it a second thought.

“Yes. Go ahead.”

“Because loneliness delves deep into me and I am tired of talking to the lifeless bricks of the wall of my room; because I’m rejected as a person, as a girl, as a sibling, as a daughter as a lover, as a student!! I only wonder if my creater doesnt reject me as a creation. Because it is terrible knowing it all but unable to change anything, because I am the one shunned behind and everyone is so reluctant to give me whatever I deserve, if I deserve at all” she shuddered and a few tears lingered on her jaw, they fell to make the little room wet.

“Hmm” she nodded, not a very polite one, neither rude.

Because my words have ended, lost, forgotten, burnt and ashes. I have no words, which I used to utter with the fleeting characters on the screen, I always watch shows with the tune mute, and I always make dialogs for the moving people. Do you listen? does anyone listen? do you care? does anyone care? do you love? Does anyone love??” she held her head in her palms.

“Ahh!” she uttered a mournful sigh.

All the gratuitous Insults, the entire appalling demeanor… as if I am crumbling in the filthy slush-pile! The inferiority complex swallowing me, I’ve lost confidence in the only thing I was so confident of, Myself!” she lurched, and shivered terribly.


She bit her lower lip in anger, stared at her.

“You were never a help, you never Will as well.”

And she, within micro seconds, grabbed the cologne bottle, and threw it towards her.


Some glass broke.

Then she stared at her, some jagged pieces of freshly broken mirror seemed to be glimpsing back. She turned towards the door, and rushed out of the room, never to come back again.


The clouds walk with me!
I stretch my hands and starts descend to let me touch them.
and when i jump and shriek, The moon giggles!

The rain droplets come and caress my cheek
winds blow to play with my hair!
and I lose myself in the looking and loving.

Oh dear,
You may come some other time!
I’m not alone!
I have moon, stars, clouds, rain and winds with me
My ultimate lovers for tonight 🙂



My first take for this kind of poem.
Please tell me how it was?



I felt my body languishing beneath the burning water. I saw the cuticles curling and the skin around my nails was white, wrinkled and dead.
I would then savor the ecstatic bliss of tearing it off with my pointed teeth and enjoying them. It was weird, wild and wilder.
It was like eating away your own flesh, perhaps my other futile attempt to scorn my self-detest.
It had a strange gentle sensation – a corner of your lip and the fingernails.

Although no one can commit suicide biting ones own flesh but I think I, very slowly, with others perfectly oblivious of it, am becoming a monster deep within!


The dormant necrophiliac monster is looming inside of me, silently and cautiously. Whence it came from? I don’t know, but it did, and that’s it. Its like a complete chick breaking the fully hatched egg… it presses the thinner end, “click” it crack open, and slowly but inevitably the whole egg-shell is broken into pieces and the chick comes out.

My skin is all peels. The hidden monster laughs a hideous laugh when i drag myself in front of the mirror. I can hear the eruption of wild laughs in my chuckles. I witness the venomous tentacles the monster is throwing in the air… floating back and forth.

It exist in me, like the bitter scum that is an integral part of cucumber, present but not apparent, like a dark gray blob of ink on black bed-sheet – existing, but perfectly hidden from their eyes. The monster in me breaths, eats, sleeps and nourishes itself inside of me.. That so sophisticatedly rebels from the igneous orders I give it.


july 07, 2007