A.V

What can I say? It’s just that I’ve never been the kind of person someone would willingly befriend. Never the kind someone would choose as family. Too silent, too fake, too far away from the warmth other people breathe in routine. A face always half-turned, eyes never steady, a presence thinning the longer one looks. I am envy wrapped in flesh, swallowing promises I never learned to keep, shrinking into corners whenever life demands spine. Not brave for others, not thoughtful enough to consider a world beyond the echo of my own mind. Out of sight, out of mind  even for myself. I don’t chase people. I don’t even walk toward them. The love others trade so easily  messy, sharp, loud, alive  I was not built for that kind of proximity. I stand behind the line, in the shadows, with frozen feet and a throat that remembers silence better than speech. Worthless, the kind of worthless that doesn’t even try. Who would bother loving something that won’t mov...

आज किसी अंजान के साथ बैठा हूँ। वो दुल्हन बनी है, और मैं दुल्हा। बस एक महीना हुआ है एक दूसरे को जानें। लाल चुन्नी  के नीचे उसका चेहरा आधा छुपा हुआ, जैसे कोई प्रार्थना अधूरी। मैं सोचता हूँ क्या ये कन्या मेरे घर की आग संभाल पाएगी? चूल्हे की गर्माहट, रसोइयों की खामोश राजनीति, मेरी माँ का तीखापन, मेरी बहन की चिढ़चिढ़ाहट, मेरे पिता कि चुप्पी और मेरा अपनापन  क्या सब समझ पाएगी? पर ज़बान चुप है। आँखों में सिर्फ संकोच  है । आज, सबसे प्रिय सखी के साथ बैठा हूँ। वो राधे बनी है, और हम उनके कृष्ण। दस साल का परिचय, दस साल का साथ। उसकी हँसी का सुर, उसके रूठने का रंग, उसकी आँखों कि  हल्की  सी  चमक सब का सब याद है। घूँघट के पीछे भी उसकी आँखें मुझे ढूँढ़ लेती हैं। हम दोनों को पता है ये शादी मंडप से नहीं, सांस से जुड़ी है। मैं सोचता हूँ क्या ये लड़की समझेगी मेरी आदतें, मेरी ख़ामोशी, मेरी थकान, मेरी ज़िम्मेदारियाँ? प्यार की उम्मीद नहीं। पर दोस्ती भी होगी कि नहीं ये भी निश्चित नहीं। दोनों के हाथों में एक दूसरे के रंग की कमी है। सब रस्में हो रही हैं, बस हम दो लोग रस्मों से कटरा रह...

It has been a while. We live afar. But today the distance feels carnivorous. This longing sits inside my ribs like something tearing, slow and deliberate, refusing to loosen. I miss the weight of you resting against me, the way your body shaped mine into something whole. I miss your hair brushing my skin, soft, careless, unaware of how easily it undid me. Your hands. Your breath. The quiet shifts in you that I felt as if they were mine. I miss kissing your tired forehead, your still hands, the warmth you carried long after leaving. I miss the lavender in your hair, how it clung to my clothes long after you left, a small reminder of what the air used to feel like. What rivals being near you? Not the warmth of a winter sun, nor the hush of a soft shawl, not butterflies in sunlight or the tender scent of a rose. Nothing held in these hands measures against you. Now the distance cuts clean. My chest feels hollow in the shape you once filled. I do not want my body to forget the ...

I saw someone today. She was wearing a dark red kurti with golden trims. A loose braid hung from her small shoulders. A silver bracelet rested on her left hand. A tiny bindi sat between her brows, small yet unmistakably present. Light blue pants. Silver earrings catching whatever light the room offered. Her lips matched the kurti. Perhaps her lipstick felt grace from her lips. Green Crocs on her feet. Somehow, they softened her entire presence. She sat quietly, as if waiting for someone. Her eyes were steady, fixed somewhere far ahead. Occasionally, she exhaled, long and slow, her gaze dropping to the floor. Tired, probably. She seemed delicate in that specific way where a few gentle words could make her eyes glisten. Someone who would hide everything behind a small, practised smile. She yawned once, wide, bored. The whole class was, to be fair A.V

STATUS: Impairment Detected CONFUSION: 87 percent BRAIN FOG: Critical COGNITIVE LOAD: Rising CLEARANCE: Not achieved VISION: Online INTERPRETATION: Faulty SELF-WORTH METRIC: Zeroed ENVY SIGNAL: High SUPPRESSED PROBLEMS: Re-emerging ENTITY FLAG: Devils detected TOUCH RESPONSE: Wither effect triggered NOISE THRESHOLD: Exceeded OVERLOAD: Confirmed DESCENT: Initiated DEPTH: Increasing LIGHT LEVEL: Minimal STABILITY: Lost HEALING PROTOCOL: Not ready RECOVERY TIME: Undefined A.V

“To the mornings that never rush enough" Often, for several or sometimes no reason at all, I leave for class at 9:30. Even when the class starts at 9:30. And though it’s barely a kilometer away, it takes me fifteen minutes to reach. Phir kya, as my footsteps find rhythm and the wind brushes past, the green around me begins to hum, and my mind drifts, writing its own stories, a playful smile tugging at my face. As I would reach, I would peek inside the door. “Ma’aaaam, mai aa jaau?” She would looks up to say.  “Kaha se aa rahe ho?” “Ghar se,” I grin. “Aur kis se aaye?” Her eyes narrow slightly. “Gyaarah number gaadi.” “Kya?” “Chal ke, ma’am.” The smile doesn’t leave my lips. “Phir itna late kyu?” “Pata nahi, ma’am. Kaisa dimag hai mera, do mahine ho gaye, phir bhi samajhta nahi ghar se kab nikalna hai.” She laughs, shaking her head. “Accha, aisa hai?” “Haan ji. Aur jab late hota hoon, toh sochta hoon bunk kar lu. Par phir lagta hai, ma’am ka pyara sa chehra dekhne mil j...