Ye Meri Hai Kahani ✍️ 🪽

I see a mirror in front of the tiny basin I flinch at my reflection; There is a man behind me  Holding my hair, gently Like a professional hairdresser,  planting a pony tail. I see a mirror in front of the green round basin, I stopped in the moment- As the pause,  While watching a movie with DVD  during the washroom break, Or At times for the freshly danced churmurey. The man played a song from Barfi Placing tiny droplet shaped toothpaste Flavoured with mint, and love. I see a mirror in front of the rectangular gold basin, The man in the reflection had a gentle smile. I fell on my knees Begging the reflection to be of one  Mine, mine alone! The man helped me to brush my teeth; "Clean the tongue, it won't budge me  Rinse the mouth,  There's nothing anxious  if water splashes all over me." Eye level with the cabinet doors,  Sitting still, I see a soap freshly wrapped With elite fragrance 🧼 I feared the swirling froth, Soaking well in my maroon...

"I'm in Delhi for this weekend. Let's catch up." The dialogue looks familiar to many family destroyers: women of a kind and men of immoral values. In July, I received a random dark pamphlet for an invitation out of regret. Readers might end up assuming my beloved's card was filled with cashews inside, but the good news is that my beloved died in the second week of January 2023, crushed under a centipede. Our bond is safe; he is in the grave while I lurch between ugly humans. The screen odor of my past values was rotten in the present then.  BEWARE! My fiction is OUR Reality, not just mine! The pamphlets punched the wall I created to feel safer at the other side. The dialogues filled my skin and bones till I was unable to breathe. We all have heard the sourness of language at some points of our living moments. It became our chronic diseases.  What tears and blood on mouth are to those with lips dipped in wine and Christian Louboutin Rouge Matte Lipstick shades? Nu...