No More A Trophy Wife

Sharp as mustard

his words stung and left

a trail of poison in my veins

the marks that you see on my face

are the scarred gashes of my  heart

parts of my body hurt

even with  friction of the clothes

I’m used to the metallic taste

of the human blood

“Perform” he used to say

his sandpaper lips

corroded my skin

rapacious, savage, fire-breathing monster

with tongue whipping in and out like a snake

his fangs exposed and dripping

large paws groping, trusting , tearing

mauling and ripping my soul

confused, deranged, wet and slimy

I lugged my pain streaked carrion

meticulously concealed

nothing but  a battered rag doll

with a wound between the legs

who says “time is a healer”

it torments, prolongs

I mulled memory wine for long

filled glasses, raised toasts

got drunk

and then one day

sprawled on the cold floor

I packed my dreams

gathered my hopes

threw you in the trash

crumpled ball of ink smudged paper

No more a sacrificial lamb

or a tasty morsel

a part of your feast

No more a nauch girl

a marionette

a trophy wife

to flaunt


keep encased

behind concrete walls

when not in use

I would rather

live on the streets

under the open sky

but will not be used, abused

humiliated, I won’t

become your trophy wife

I won’t succumb, I’ll fight

I will give  up

but won’t give in

my soul is hardened

I am a rock

Is God Deaf or Are We Insensitive ?

I saw the tent come up in the park next to my home and knew that it was going to be yet another night of religious cacophony. ( we had undergone this nerveshattering experience just a few days back during a visit to my mom’s place).

My fears were confirmed when the mike check started at ear shattering volume. The dog which was trying to rest after a hot day raised his head and gave a look of disapproval but decided to catch some nap before the show really began.

Within half an hour someone started shrieking out devotional mata ki bhete ( devotional songs for the Devi Durga) and rest of the Gods. The irritation was taking a toll on me and I mumbled some cuss words to sooth my fraying nerves.

I always ask



Is it that we have become utterly insensitive to our surroundings?

Is it that Gods are more alert at night and screaming your devotional  breaking the peaceful reviver of night  will bring them closer to God’s love and mercy?

With temper rising like a river in flood I began my monologue ,cursing all insensitive people who organised such events and those who participated in them. The boys were not perturbed . The headphones were properly glued to the ears.

Why should I get tortured alone I thought so the headphones were confiscated.

My husband seemed not interested in talking about the issue. religious sentiments run high in this family and it was a touchy topic raised by an atheist . Even worse.

He told me either to ziplock my mouth or be bold enough to report.

I knew the reason for the  challenge . The ” respectable ” family which was organizing the function are thick with my In laws and any controversy would make me an ” Out law”  and this was certainly not a desirable reason to be labeled so I decided to remain silent.

The police turns a deaf ear  or if at all has to make their presence felt on some one’s complain, they come, watch, eat and go with a mild warning.

“samjha karo ji ” Try to understand.

Religious zealots will be looking for my head if I say more.

The blaring loudspeaker churned out some of the most torturous music I had heard in recent times  with  comments like ” munde ki ma nu bulao” ( call the groom’s mother” ) and so on with a little introduction and a chorus from the mentioned family members. Making matters worse.

For music lovers like us , it was plain and simple case of cold-blooded murder of music.

The decibel levels  leave you grimacing and the murder of melody makes your soul wanting to escape your earthly body to some quieter abode.

” the singers, composers and lyricists must be turning in their graves  ” I said in a hurtful tone and my elder one nodded in agreement.

“Those who are by any chance still alive  will go to the graves tonight. May they rest in peace.” . He said.


( wishful thinking)

There is a law against the use of loudspeakers after 11 I think but when it is a matter of religion no one dares to voice their anger. I came to know that someone from the nearby flats had complained and even told the  family head to cut down the noise but he was told that it was just a matter of few hours and an auspicious occasion so he should ” please” bear with them.

The RWA seemed helpless and the tone-deaf crowd kept singing and clapping and dancing in unison till late.

There is a community hall in  the locality and that should be used as rule for such events but the tent still stands with pride in the park and aromatic aromas of food is coming out from there. Guess its going to be a permanent fixture till the wedding is over.

To make matters worse, the devotional bit ended by 10 and then began the filmi music ranging from old songs of Kishore Da to the recent ones of Himesh and then the out of tune rendering of Aaj jane ki zid nakaro that made my temples throb.

The female singers sang as if under a diabolic possession.

Desperate attempts to block the noise failed completely so I immersed myself in the blog world while my hubby slept with a pillow on his ears.

Like a hopeless ,  helpless sponge my entire being soaked up the noisy screeching and shouting that went on in the name of music and devotion for Gods .

That also set me thinking on this whole business of pleasing Gods. I shall write about it in the next post.

No one cares and everyone blares is the quote of the day.