The Tough Goodbyes

You want me to come or not,” she said over the phone. Tears trickled down her cheeks as a turmoil of emotions crossed over her. Worried for the results, desperate to meet him for the last time before his deployment and all this pent up frustration seeping within them. It would be a wait of one year before they see each other again. The last 50 days had been her dream come true. The moments of love, joy, laughter they shared together, the places they travelled together, they little fights they had , the hundred pictures the clicked , her big success, his birthday celebration, the Valentine’s day , she couldn’t have asked for more. Every day she had known him more , she had loved him deeper.

As always there was no point of being angry with him. He would be gone in an hour and she hated regrets and how good he was at melting her heart .

She went rushing to meet him.

Across her he sat, dragging his chair closer, he held her hands. The warmth was enough to fill her heart and make her eyes rain.
“Baby I am sorry,” he said with moist eyes . I am leaving today my love. We won’t be meeting for another year . Will you bid me farewell with these tears ? Won’t I be able to carry your smile in my heart? You have to be strong , for me and for us”, he said while lifting her face to meet his gaze.

“How will I live without you?”, she asked trying to avoid looking into his eyes. “Who will I look at , whom shall I annoy , who will listen to my everlasting lectures of ” you know how … ? ” , who will hug me when I am cold, who will laugh at my devilish tricks, who will dance with me ,and lift me when I throw up totally drunk ,who will order the food for me, who will cover me when anyone eyes me , who will give me those lovely roses?” , she said in a single breath.
He didn’t have an answer. He just had his arms to offer. The arms that were her HOME . Arms that covered her naked soul, her tattered heart , her scars ,her bruises … arms that healed her. Arms that put her to sleep. A sleep where there were dreams … fairytales that she told him. Fairytales that he made her live.

And who will give me these little cute gifts? Who will fold up my clothes while I mess up my whole room, help me shop for formals I never wear, enlighten me about so many things I don’t know about,
read me stories, poems from her favourite books and tell me to quit smoking??? , “his questions were these. Questions that he would never ask. Questions that she read in his eyes.

At the airport they stood , saying the final goodbyes , promising to wait till another favourite hello. They hugged , they kissed . With eyes numb , still managing to smile , she hid herself in his arms and each kiss that he planted on her forehead was a solemn reminder of their love, of their days together, the journeys, the laughs, the tears the new found relation that they had felt. From lovers to being the two best friends. Seeing each other in the messiest , craziest and the disgusted avatars.

She kept on looking at him till his last picture … she kept on stopping herself from crying wanting to turn back now . But couldn’t ,she just couldn’t. He came running through the doorway , saying what he always said to her with a smile …

“I love you baby. Take care of yourself and just keep smiling. I am always there with you.”


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A Tribute To The Mentor


In the world of deceit n loneliness ,
In a world where ur failures appear bigger to everyone than your virtue,
Where ur own blood doesn’t flinch from doubting ur hard work ,
In such a world I was blessed with a guru ,
Not just a guru , a messenger of god to carry me in this vast sea ,
Showing me the light , watching my every step , in darkness enlightening me ,
And today I bow down to you,
In reverence, in gratitude , for u urself don’t know what you have done ,
Even if I wash your feet with my tears it won’t be enough ,
For you have lifted a tormented child , a troubled adult ….
From the depths of darkness to the heights of lights …

Thank you so much
I will forever remain indebted to you for helping me give my mother her life’s only and biggest happiness

– Ambika

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Mission Accomplished


15 Feb 2014 i asked the Indian army a question Do I Have it in me 24 Nov 2015 from chest no 25 … to 4 … to 4+ …to all India rank 2 …   to a medical rejection , to an appeal , and today to a final appeal 17 Feb 2016 it says a big YES

It was impossible without you sir . I owed it to u for all the time that you held my hand lest I fall and watched my every step

And to my lil brother who is my biggest strength, the one and only man I have loved unconditionally like a mother . My witness to all my pains and joys . I love you

And to you Mayank Yadav for believing in my abilities even when I started doubting them , and especially for preventing me from going insane. I love u .

And to the one woman who has loved me more than my mother . My masi . I love you to the core of my heart. I am breathing bcz of you.

And mom this is for all the pain you have endured in your life. Your smile will never stop after this . I hope i made u proud mum.

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Valentine For Hopeless Romantics


Happy Valentine’s day to me and all hopeless romantics like me …
We bash around with little ways to express the love we feel,
We don’t shy around from accepting love,
We don’t give up on love even if it breaks us from inside ,
We DON’T GIVE A FUCK to those who laugh at us thinking doing mushy , cute things for your loved one , writing poems for them is stupid …
We aren’t ashamed of being drafted, or cheated upon , ditched or even broken in love…
We love with hearts open, we sing it loud in our own melodies ,
And those who laugh , we love you too and hope u recover from what scares you ,

Coz the world is beautiful because people like us live,

Coz the world is colourful because we are confident enough to wear its colours
#Valentine’s day

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Our Few Days My Love



I am the moon ,
You are the sky to this moon ,
You are the colour to this canvas,
The hues of your smiles, of the gleam of your eyes , of your million little expressions …
My prayers seek blessings for u ,
My words frame verses for you ,
My smiles fill roses for u ,
My tears are the pearls that I trust you with …
My hands lift to seek the joys of world for you,
When will these moments come again my love,  
When will hearts beat in unison,
When will our warmth melt the chill ,
When will not need words anymore to tell you what I feel for you ,
When again … shall you read my eyes and embrace me with your live ???

When will this moon sleep in the lap of its sky again ???

– Athena

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Lines Of Your Hand


Your hands entwined in me …
While I feel the lines that seep…
Lines covering your hands,
Hands that embraced sleep , hugging me after we make love ,
Our breathing the only sound in the room ,
And we sleep like babies …
They say you are soldier ,
With hands rugged and rough,
They say these lines are fading away ,
By the way you hold your gun and train it away ,
But these lines are my poems ,
My verses on your hands ,
I write them with tenderness so as not to hurt your hands ,
I write them with love ,

With the morning light open your palms someday ,
Read the lines ,
Read the hidden poems ,
Because they say I am going to be a poet someday
– Athena

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Homes like ghettos


In the entire seasons that I spent amidst people called home, most of the times there was silence around the house. Not the peaceful, tranquil quiet but an eerie silence. You see the difference… quietness is just slowing down the fast pace of life , being at peace , and silence is dead… it is like crumbling up on a dark room holding back all the edges of your existence and ur clothes… even the curl of ur toes.

Silence of the ghettos where I could hear the clock ticking and my own hissing heartbeats .

And then there were times, terrible times when the floor of the house smelled of land mines , mines stuffed and your one footstep, ur one utterance of a word would blast the mine … wounding you and the others in a deep cut… oozing tears of blood , again followed by the silence of the cemetery, where lay buried the happiness, the fluttering giggles of children that usually occupy a home . The happy faces.
And in those days I walked , very carefully … not wanting  to leave my footprints . I walked on my toes fearing that I may not stir the air , the poisonous air that floated through that concentration camp . Fearing that I may not get strangled and choked on my own tears .


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Reclaim your space

When we travel long distance in a bus or a train, and whenever the bus stops for a while just like that on some barren highway, why is it the men in the best get down and women don’t… they almost never do??? Why ? Even if its just for stretching themselves for a few minutes .

Tell me truly , isn’t it because we haven’t seen our mothers do it and we feel some kind of inhibition doing so??

We as women need to reclaim our space, step out , in the public domain, sit on that roadside dhaba to have tea, or as simple as get down from the bus .

As long as we do not show our possession over what’s ours , these subtle signs of submission won’t let a new freedom usher .

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