Since there's nothing to it...

There were stolen glances

The ice was broken

A comfort zone established

More looks, more ease came next

And then time stood still

And that's all there is to it I guess

My Dark Place

Solitude is a prized possession
A power, a resource
Loneliness becomes liberating
When I’m in my dark place

Detachment seems easy
When I’m in my dark place

I stop caring for once
Let go of expectations
When I’m in my dark place

People seize to exist
When I’m in my dark place

Introspection is free flowing
I can be myself, no farce
Nothing is held back
When I’m in my dark place

Questioning god gets easy
When I’m in my dark place

Sniffs and muffles become a language
Feelings are amplified
When I’m in my dark place

Silence is a welcome guest
When I’m in my dark place

Anger finds itself dissipating
I hurt lesser, heal more
Rehabilitation gets under way
When I’m in my dark place

I process and overcome
When I’m in my dark place

My dark place nourishes me
It expands the blank, gives me room to let out
I find myself leading towards the good place
When I’m in my dark place

Just another day in the Metro!

“Follow the pink footsteps, get into the women’s coach of the metro and only get down at your stop.” –instructed my friend for the third time. I stood panic-stricken at the platform called ‘Rajiv Chowk’ my footsteps touching the pink ones she mentioned.
Once inside the metro, I chose to stand. No! I didn’t know what a long journey it would be to ‘Saket’, my stop. I held on to the pole for dear life. Scenes from Speed the movie played in my brain in a loop. Thoughts of possible blasts engulfed my mind. I prayed.
I looked around. The stereotypical women stood round me; the vegetable-bag bearing aunty, the laptop-bag carrying working girl, the lady with her blackberry. Right next to the door was a group of girls returning from an 18th birthday party. One decked up, others more casual. They were in such in high spirits, it calmed me. The comfort though was snatched as the metro halted three stops away from mine.
While I feared that my worst apprehensions were to come true, I looked across at the ‘birthday-girl’ being teased by her friends. Her mother kept calling her up at 30 seconds intervals. From the little I could make out from the conversation I found out that her mother was freaking out. The girls had lied about the party venue, so the girl couldn’t disclose to her mum where exactly they’d got stuck. While the girl tried to stop her friends from giggling she mentioned the words “She’s asking if she should send Papa to save me!”
I laughed as did others. We were stuck in a metro, underground and unless the lady’s husband was superman (which lets face it, all women hope their husbands would turn into) he wasn’t going to be able to do anything.
Ladies (mothers probably) on board advised her while the girl showed mixed emotions. I only thanked God my mom hadn’t called.
When the metro did reach the platform we were asked to evacuate it. At the security check a man got beaten up. I stared from a distance (He was a pick-pocket). Beating people up, is apparently a common thing in Delhi. I realized again, I wasn’t from this place. Some day I say.
Outside, I tried hailing an auto but I found none. I walked a gazillion miles but ultimately had my sister pick me up. That’s Delhi for you I guess! Wonder what it is for people who don’t have sisters to pick them up though.