Broken Codes

The girl I see her staring at me from the mirror: contemplating insignificance, contemplating disaster.  Who have I become? I stare at the girl whose innocence is lost. I want to hold her, comfort her, and tell her that things will be okay. The scars of my past, reflected in my eyes, hauntingly leering at me from my reflection. The only one, who knows me, is me. The only one, who can comfort me, is staring at me through the mirror judging me, judging my actions. I see tears rolling down my face, before I feel them. I am so used to them now that they are almost a part of me. What have I become. I look down at the reflection on my wrists. Scars, that deface my once smooth flawless skin. Did I hate myself that much that I absolutely had to draw my own blood? Healed lines, bumps, I feel them with my other hand. Looking up, I see her, taunting me. “What have you become, you silly girl?” my eyes ask me. What have I become? Meaningless, defective, useless. What broke me? Wha...

Mother Today, I told her the truth. It was her 18 th birthday. She was old enough, wise enough, smart enough, and mature enough. Today, I told my daughter that I couldn’t conceive a child, and that she came from someone else. I told her that she is beautiful, she is amazing, I love her like I carried her, maybe even more, but she came from somewhere else. I haven’t seen her face fall as it did today. But that look, I would never forget it. It was the truth, and a necessity, a pain and a blessing. “Why don’t I have hair like yours and a nose like daddy’s?” The 10 year old girl had asked me. She was referring to the torrent of crazy curls that rose from my head, and the long pointed nose that was her dad’s. What lies I had told her while I had brushed her long straight hair. We gave her everything. We always wanted what was best for her. So, today, I told her; Remembering the first time I had held her, having glimpsed her birth mother’s longing to hold her child. We had closed...

The confession “I want you, with a hint of uncertainty. I need you, with a hint of ingratitude.  I love you, with a hint of sarcasm.” I said the words, watched her face change and then turned around and walked away- Away from her life, in search of new beginnings. I hadn’t decided where I was going to go, but I wouldn’t stay here, it was unbecoming of me. I would not stay behind to be ridiculed, or unloved. It was never my mistake to have fallen in love, it was tragic loss: a loss of dignity, a loss of pride, I had fallen from my high horse, to become a quivering mass of thoughtless being under someone else’s feet. But that was so much less than my potential, so much more than I ever thought would become of me. I did not want to feel that magnetic draw, how I wanted to turn around and gaze into those hypnotic eyes. I had met that man she loved. The way she had held his hand and had introduced me, it had caused the pit of my stomach to turn and coil. We had sworn to be...

Beauty   The city is crowded.  The navigation system amazing, so well connected, the transportation system beyond me. New job, new life, new heart. I have left my broken heart behind me. I have left my old life behind me, old friends, family.   I have created a routine here; I wake at 6, leave at   7:30 , office by 9. An almost 9 to 5 job, but I don't mind extra hours. It's my new life; I want to leave my old habits behind. Evenings I spend near the sea, because it's perfect. Then I take the train back home, normally with someone's smelly armpit directly aimed at my face. Every jerking stop of the train, sending a nauseatingly strong smell into my nose. I didn't mind.   Today, no different from normal,  I breathe in the crowd at the station,  mixture of smells, jasmine being sold, sweat, mixed perfumes, fried food, I could get used to this, forever. I close my eyes for a second. Someone rams into me really hard and I nearly drop everythin...

The writer   It was the words that came to me in free flow. Every sentence well articulated, well written. The words forming thoughts that I have never really understood. I wrote of love, hatred, anger, hunger, pain, regret; without truly knowing what it meant. People laughed, cried, smiled, smirked; on reading what I wrote. But my mother, she never understood. "Think," she'd say, "use your brain." I would be pushed a math paper toward me and would be asked to solve it. That was my life growing up. But words, words were my friends. They brought me pleasure.   I had woken up to the smell of paper burning. There in my room my waste paper basket had been on fire. My mother, standing near it, in her night gown, tears flowing down her face, had been feeding the flames with papers from my desk: my stories, my poetry. The flames had licked them all, tasting my precious words before deciding to swallow them whole. I had watched them burn, and I had let out an inaudibl...

The other woman  Passion intolerable irrevocable suffering.   I fell asleep with my eyes wide open and I refused to see the world unfold. He loves me... I wake up... He loves me not. I spend most days waking up to his absence. Wishing he would wake up next to me. He tells me how it happened, his love for his wife next minute he tells me how she destroyed his life. I knew he loved me. At the end of the day, I was the one to whom he came with his problems. The woman who lived in his apartment in the city. I was a nobody but with him I was someone else. He loved me in his own ways. I was not just a physical toy for him.   Passion intolerable irrevocable, passion did not just stem from lust. This I knew. He needed me as much as I needed him.   I asked him last night about his wife, he said that he would leave her for me. I fall asleep...He loves me... I wake up... He loves me not.   The wife   Passion intolerable irrevocable suffering.   I fell asl...

Sunrise I watched the sun turn the sky an orange of brilliance. I should have heard her voice. I never did because she never spoke the words. She didn't tell me the three words that I didn't know I wanted to hear.   I watched the dew on the leaves reflect a torrid red with hues of yellow,  an ode to the rising sun. She knew how far I would go for her, cross the ends of the universe. She knew. I never said those three words, because I never realised it. But I knew how she felt. I knew if she told me then, I would have belittled her due to my confusion, but I would have realised sooner what it meant to me and for me. How sunrise makes it feel like time is standing still, only to lead to an explosion of light- reminding you that your day has begun. I turn and walk slowly to my car. I understood myself, too late. I drove home slowly, dreading the wedding music that i would hear upon entering. Early morning weddings. I looked up at my bride's face, wishing she were someone e...

Father I held the gun in my hand. Stared at it for a few minutes. It was either me, or him. He was not my son. How could he be? To see what he had grown up to be? He was not my son. I had loved him every day, for 17 years. When he was a baby, I had fed him, changed his diapers, woke up in the middle of the night to make him feel comfortable. We had done it together, my wife and I. But he was not my son. I could feel it now when I looked at him. He resembled me in many ways, his eyes were dark and deep, they looked like they had a lot of depth and wisdom but they were empty pits. Had I raised him wrong? Given him too much attention? Given him too little? Had I spoiled him beyond hope? Or had I given him nothing that he wanted? What had made him this way? Nothing of the man I had hoped he would become. We had fought today again, about how he was not in the right place in life. I argued that the way things are going, he would never be. He argued that it wasn't his time yet. 17 ...

The liar   People are idiots. You tell them what they want to hear. You use them, you lie to them, you manipulate them, easy, pliable. And you... You get what you want. Isn't that what life is about? Getting what you want? I always manage. I don't have friends, I mean there are people, I guess, they consider me close to them. But how much do you need from them really. I walk toward one of them. She is sweet, easily manipulated, a little clingy and one world class idiot. She is everything I hate about people, pliable. But I am good at what I do, can't blame her completely for her ignorance. She hugs me. She smells like papaya. It's the darn shampoo she uses. She has already started talking, a mile a minute. Irritated by people in her life, going on about how she hates people. I want to shout at her, if she hates people, why get around them, why be close to them. But no she needs them. Stupid girl. But she is easy, she helps me out with everything.  She does my work for...

The old man A clap of thunder, rain pounding hard against the window of the plane. Turbulence, causing the entire plane to rock. I close my eyes. Please don't crash. The child next me has a disgruntled look on his face. I fear he might get sick next to me. It is bad enough that I have to weather this condition the flight is in. The thought of having to tolerate this child sitting next to me, impossible. I hit the switch to call over the flight attendant. This skinny little thing comes over, a forced smile on her face. "Yes, sir?" "Are we going to crash?" I asked.  I was not afraid of the concept of death, but I was afraid of the form of dying. She smiles, it seems warm maybe even close to being genuine. She asks me not to worry,  asks me if she could get me anything to make me feel more comfortable and tries to convince me that turbulence while flying close to land during a thunderstorm was perfectly normal. This is the 4th time that i am calling her over, sin...

Her I woke up to the sounds of snores. I had fallen asleep next to him, again. He smelled a little of coffee and cigarettes. Being an avid smoker, he always had the smell of smoke. I called him "chimney". It was light outside, the sun hit my face, it was impossible to go back to sleep. I had been watching a movie with him, last night. He had made himself a cup of coffee, and I had been extremely drowsy- there had been nothing to keep me awake. I hated the taste of coffee, bitter did not taste any better with a few spoons of sugar. Now, I let myself settle closer to him. He turned over and hugged me. I felt safe for some reason in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt me. Someone knocked on the door. He awoke. "Who is it?" There was no response. I jumped up from bed, it was not against the rules that I was in his hostel room but it was still frowned upon. I pulled the laptop close to me and pretended to work on it. He went to get the door. "I called you sev...

The T shirt The morning of my first train journey alone from the city of Bangalore to the huge city of Mumbai, had me seeing the interiors of a train for the first time in 25 years. The last time I traveled by train I was 5 years old. A lot had changed since then. Flights were frequent, my father had made huge amounts of money, and I never had to bother taking the train. But as a 30 year old unmarried woman, trying to prove herself in a patriarchal society, I had cut off from my family- financially and emotionally. I had my hand sanitiser, wet tissues, pepper spray,  packed food (enough for 3 days), and I was ready to fight the germs and the assholes that could be in the train. I was dressed in my ex boyfriend's t shirt which was a few sizes too big, so as to not "entice" the lewd remarks or actions. A woman shabbily clad in a Saree came and sat next to me with her 3 kids and her husband who smelled heavily of alcohol. They were jittery and excited. There was a stron...

Mother As you age, life is supposed to speed up not slow down. Not in this fast paced world. I have aged, slowly and gracefully. The worry lines and laugh lines of a mother etched deep into my face. It has been years since I have seen my son. My husband didn't approve of his choice in a wife. I never understood why it mattered, he was our son, our only child. We watched him grow up, a spoilt irresponsible boy- until he met her. She brought out a more serious side of him. I saw the change, my husband saw the change, we approved of this. Our son had aged wisely we thought. We never knew the cause behind it. Love. You would think age would bring wisdom on this matter. The only unconditional love age knew was a mother's to her son. Age didn't understand love that would pull a son a 1000 km away to start a family of his own. Age always knew what was best for the son. He had brought home a Hindu girl. A pretty young thing who he met at his work place. He loved her he had said...

Y esterday This is not my first time. I didn't choose today out of any sense of sentimentality.  I chose today because today I feel something is missing. I woke up feeling incomplete. I had fallen in love and had been lying to myself the entire time. There was no violin playing, no live music, no dancers- there was no celebration of love, unrequited love did not deserve that kind of romance. I woke up to the blaring sound of the alarm. I didn't want to wake up, my only thought was, "Can I sleep away my feelings?" I rolled over and watched the ceiling,  I didn't wake up thinking of him, I woke up feeling scared to think of him. I felt like a zombie and I felt like my brain had been eaten away. The constant feeling of my brain being munched on by thoughts of his eyes,  his hands, his voice when he said the words, "I love you." But the word "love" has so many meanings and the meaning he held in those words was- heartbreak. He was not in love wi...