My Achromatic Dreams - I

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Jingling of my anklet, rang in the whole house,
When I ran escaping from his mock anger.
He  hated  even  if anyone even touched his hair, and when  i had ruffled them naughtily,
His nostrils  were flaring, a sign of danger.

He caught me by my waist , pulled me backwards,
Threw me on bed as if i was a potato sack,
He tickled me until  my eyes teared,
This much happines , my heart feared.

Hands intertwined , legs entangled, breaths mixing ,
We laid on bed stealing some time from the time itself,
The moment of separation was so near,
It felt like he just came a few minutes back, he said to himself.

I tried my best to not send him with tears in my eyes,
Didn't want him to part with my weak image , but smiles.
But these traitor salty drops heeded no care,
He said "You always cry. That's not fair."

Smearing my hairline with red dust, finally he pressed his lips to my forehead,
I also controlled my emotions, knowing he too had his agony  suppressed.

My throat was burning , my bowels retching,
Head feels dizzy, I sprawled on the floor of my room,
Woke up to smiling faces and amazed when my mother-in-law gave me a heirloom.

My legs were heavy but i felt as if i could fly and touch the sky,
The feeling of his love in me , turned me all red and shy.

I wrote a letter with trembling hands,
Too overwhelmed to keep  them steady,
Pouring all my love and the good news in it,
I told him "more mischief is coming his way, get ready."

I waited and waited for a whole month,
Sucking tamarind, and  eyes always on the door,
The postman came with the key of my happiness, I would have sprinted to the verandah, had my back not that sore.

Before me , my eyes touched his letter , and drenched it the only way they knew,
Sending kisses for my lips and belly , he said not many days but wait for just a few.

I've never seen him writing this long letter, his usual ones were just to the point and quite curt,
His fatherly longing was so obvious in his words, that my heart hurt.

Small socks , small caps and small sweaters, everything so small but happiness so big,
My room full of all kinds of herbs, pickles , cashews and figs.

Even if hot water falls on leg, my hands themselves found their way to my baby,
Was it a heartburn or something bad was going to happen ,maybe.

Today I had prayed extra , promised Krishna his favourite makhan dose,
Humming I entered the aangan, not even two steps and  my heart froze.

My vision turned blurry, everyone looked up at me with pity,
There lied him wrapped in tricolour , martyred for his duty.

They told me not to cry, this was a moment of pride,
But my heart was too stubborn to understand , too childish to hide.

Loneliness, hurt , love , pride , loss , my heart roared in pain,
My eyes cried less for me , more for my unborn , but all in vain.

He had gone, taken away with him my colors , and shine,
I would have died the same day, had I not have this big responsibility of mine.

My anklets were taken away, my hairline was flushed,
All his symbols were taken away from body ,
What remained was just his memories that had once left me all blushed.

This was his last precious gift, I had to live for him,
They said be happy for the small one at least, but the eyes remained filled upto the brim.

I woke up with a pain shot through my core, followed by some dribbling which grew to become a scarlet puddle soon,
My legs gave in as if I've fell on the land face first straight from the moon.

Krishna , why me , why me , why me, i ranted all day and night,
I felt eyes all over me , some of disgust , some of pity on my plight.

I unfolded and re-read his last letter a million times, brushing my fingers, 
His smell was fading day by day  from it, just like love of his family, only sadness  lingers.

A few days later, I am standing on road with my small krishna idol and few rags,
My feet all blistered, my heart broken, my life crumbled, still pushing myself,  to where the destiny drags.

Days have passed, the air in my belly has sullen it's mood,
Keeping my self respect aside, I've asked , begged and even stolen the food.

One unfair night, a rough hand gripped my wrist, my stolen food fell on the floor,
His dark eyes boring in mine, as if scanning my soul.

Feeling full for the first time in days, my eyes teared,
Was he really this generous or too kind to be true, i feared.

My fears came out to be true, when his touch was not so innocent as it seemed,
I would be willing to give away my dignity  for a few morsels, he deemed.

Thrashing and squirming , I stabbed his eye with a kitchen knife,
I ran and ran and ran and ran clutching my respect and my life.

My foot stumbled and I braced myself for the hit,
A pair of strong arms, held me together, my heart falling into a pit.

....to be continued.



































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