Tag Archives: Love

The Adultress

By Malathy Madathilezham


She stared at his worried eyes. No, she stared through them…into oblivion. What was she doing here? Why was she with him? Tears streamed down her eyes, an ocean of emotions over which she had no control. ‘I am sorry dear, really… I don’t know what to say? Why are you crying?’

His voice just washed over the surface of her skin, in the background. It wasn’t that she regretted having sex with this gentle giant of a man who had become her greatest support during the past few months. She was just surprised and overwhelmed at what could have driven her to do it. She knew he loved her intensely, but she also knew that she did not. He was part of her life right now to help her through this difficult time. Right now, she couldn’t bear the thought of sharing her life with another man! She was repulsed by the very thought.

‘Mridula!!’ Arun’s voice shook her out of her reverie. ‘Look at me dear, you know how wretched I feel when you cry. It’s worse when I don’t know why.’ Should she share her thoughts? No, she decided, it would cause so much pain to him and that she would not be able to see. ‘It happens you know when I get overwhelmed by emotions, tears just flow. Doesn’t mean that I am sad!’ She smiled at him.

It was in college that she first met him. It wasn’t first love but it was in first sight. She was drawn to him in a way she had not known till then. The magic of their first date made her want to meet him again…and again and again. The first time they made love, she had decided that this was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. She could only see the love in his eyes… Love was everything….

Mridula was in stress. Uncertainty in her career, financial burden and the constant bickering and fighting with Anand was taking a toll on her health. She did not know what to do. Her only solace now was Arun. She felt guilty. She felt as if she was using him. But she could not stop. Their conversations and coffee together after work was the only thing she looked forward to nowadays.

Arun loved her. From the first day at work he liked her. He had sensed that she was troubled and wanted to help her. He tried to maintain a distance after he came to know she was married. That did not work! He could not believe what happened today. He felt guilty. ‘She is married!!’ His friends had warned him not get emotionally involved as they did not want to see him get hurt. But he had started hoping for more…looking forward to more… may be….

Mridula was walking home. She had cheated on her husband today. But why wasn’t she feeling guilty? She was, in fact, feeling calm and relieved. The uncertainty in her mind was there no more. She knew now what she wanted. More importantly she knew what she had to do to achieve that. She felt a sense of freedom which had till then eluded her. She was free.

Thoughts on Love on a Grey Calcutta Morning

By Devjani Bodepudi

“When love beckons to you follow him, Though his ways are hard and steep. And when his wings enfold you yield to him, Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he speaks to you believe in him, Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden. For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning. Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth……

But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure, Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor, Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears. Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.

Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; For love is sufficient unto love. And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course. Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.”

But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully.”

Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet


When I was about thirteen, I came across these beautiful lines in a poetry anthology I was given at school to study. I was in love then, so I memorised the lines then, not knowing what they meant. I only knew they were beautiful and talked of love being vast and holier than anything that I had known before.

There is so much love inside us all. The love in me is destructive sometimes. It comes out with a fierce desire to protect and as a result it may destroy. I’m thwarted at every turn because the ones I love will make the choices that they must. I describe it as shouting at a soap character on screen, willing them to make the right choice but they can’t hear me. The script must play out, the show will go on, and in the end, the hero will be heartbroken. There is simply nothing I can do.

The love here, in Calcutta seems magnified. Everyone loves to extremes. It’s like watching a strip of magnesium burn brighter than the sun only to be left with the remnants of a memory. It is a starburst in the darkness and clinical correctness of a laboratory.  I think everyone here is chasing that starburst, that momentary elusiveness of wonder and lust.

I’ve heard stories of couples who have been married for years, have children, respectable positions in society, just let it all fall away because they’ve ‘fallen in love’. It happens everywhere, I suppose, perhaps more so in the West. People get divorced all the time. But somehow, it feels like it’s been sought out here, deliberately. It’s necessary because the poets have written about it for centuries. We’ve taken Romeo and Juliet to heart and Tagore’s heroes and heroines must befall heartache and tragedy, as it is the only way to love. Despair is a prerequisite to happiness and truth, it seems.

Growing up and in my teens we were exposed to the story of Sarat Chandra’s Devdas, in all his cinematic glory. That tragic drunk, inebriated with his own sorrow, the courtesan, made transcendent through her grief, the simple girl next door, within reach but tainted through poverty. As Indians, I think we’ve come to worship such love, but I was able to move on thankfully. I think it’s like dancing in the rain; there is pure joy in drowning in the tears of the gods. To fully experience love, one must drown in it first. One must first be left bereft of hope until an angel appears and lifts you up and whispers in your ear, “you will love again and this time it will be for an eternity.”

But what is Love? I did not know what it was until it filled me up with contentedness and content. It is that which stopped still the longing and searching and swallowed the void until light poured forth from every pore. Every droplet of self was wrung from my being until there was only elation.

Love asks of nothing. It is whole. It will be you, who will give, willingly, as you are nourished with its enduring strength and its midday warmth.

I suppose we must all learn the ways of heartbreak and rejection first, like rights of passage. Perhaps our hearts need to be broken and set in the form of the perfect vessel to allow Love to enter. I wish I knew.

All I know is that I am blessed with Love. I pray that those whom I love, will find it too, that many-coloured bird that sings of joy and strength and patience and peace.

An Abstract Distraction

By Joybrato Dutta


‘Paid sex’, woh standard hai, jo dosto ko pata chale to kamaal hai, par gharwaalo ko pata chale to bavaal hai. Kuch logo ke liye aspiration hai, kuch ke liye redemption hai, aur kuch ke liye education hai. Kuch mere jaise hai jinke liye yeh over-expensive fornication hai.

Maine kabhi try nahin kiya tha. Par kuch dino pehle jab akela apne hotel ke room mein baitha tha, tab realise hua, it’s worth a shot. Making love to a complete stranger seemed adventurous, also knowing that she will be much better on bed, was as effort to succumb chauvinism.

So I made the call. Deal was sealed. 5000/hr.

Exactly 9:30PM ko woh room mein aayi. Shukar hai mai Love @ first sight mein vishwaas nahin rakhta, warna ho jaata.

Cut to post sex (This is not an erotic story. To read a few download from http://www.savitabhabhi.com. If you find any interesting one’s mail it across.)

Me: So, tumhaara poora naam kya hai?
She: Kyun, facebook pe friend request bhejna hai kya?

She started getting dressed. I interrupted. “I paid for 2 hours aur abhi waqt baaki hai”

She: kya karna hai aapko?
Me: Baatein kare?
She (disgusted): Kis barey mein?

Yes of all the topics in the world the one I said was Love.

She: Love? Aapko kisi se hai?
Me: Nahin, abhi kuch dino pehle hi break up hua.
She: ohh so that’s why…..
Me: NO. I don’t use sex as a distraction. It’s love that distracts me.
She: Hmm
Me: aapko kabhi
She: Pyaar waala stage mai kaafi pehle paar kar gayi hun.
Me: to abhi kaunse stage mein ho?
She: abhimaan
Me: Ji?
She: Jab pyaar insaan ko tod deta hai to abhimaan hi hai to usey sambhaalta hai

Jawab nahin tha mere paas. Sahi keh rahi thi ya galat, pata nahin, par sochne pe majboor zaroor kar rahi thi.

Me: Aap pyaar ko underestimate kar rahe hai. Aapko uske taaqat ka andaaza nahin.
She: kabhi mere daftar aana, pyaar ke kamzori ka andaaza aapko zaroor ho jaayega.

Me: You are good with words?
She – Dhanda bistar pe zaroor hota hai Sir, par shuruwat baato se hi hoti hai. Every night’s not the same. I don’t always get a call. At times I have to go out and try my luck. Words help then.

Me: Itne customers rahe honge aapke, kabhi kisi se thoda sa bhi pyaar nahin hua?
She: Hua sahab, kuch se hua
Me: really? I’m glad, phir kya kiya aapne.
She: Discount mein blowjob de diya
Me: Kya?!?
She: Kahin suna thaa ki pyaar mein saamne waale ko khush rakhna zaroori hota hai. Bas wahi kar leti hun.

‘Startled’ will be a wrong word. ‘Impressed’ would be more correct.

Me: Samajhta hun, pyaar aapke dhande ki watt laga dega.
She: galat. Pyaar na hota to iss dhande mein itna munafaa na hota. Hum jaise log, raeso ka shauq kam, harey huye aashiqo ki zaroorat zyaada hai.
Me: Matlab?
She: Ek ladki ka pyaar hi kisi doosre ladki ke pyaar ko bhoolne mein madad karta hai. Aksar meri aankhon mein inn aashiqo ko woh pyaar dikh jaata hai.

Me: pata hai. I’m sure aapko kisi ke emotions ki parwah nahin.
She: Talent hai sir. Bina emotions ko samjhe woh saantvana de jaate hai, jo aksar dost bhi nahin de paate.
Me: What the…
She: A saddened soul asks for instant gratification. Love can’t provide that. Lust can. I am simply the answer to their lust.

Me: to kabhi aap Love bante hai to kabhi Lust. Kaafi naam hai aapke.
She: Na to mera approach badalta hai, na rate, aur na hi mera kaam. Bas log hi hai jo jazbaato ko alag naam de jaate hai.

Me: Kya kabhi kisi ko aapse pyaar nahin hua?
She: Roz. Humare dhande mein bahut taaqat hai.
Me: Aapko nahin lagta ki aapka abhimaan kuch zyaada ki bebuniyaad hai.
She: Sir ek baat batao, jitni pyaar ki baatein pichle aadhe ghante mein aapne mere saath kiya, kya kabhi ek raat mein apne ex-girlfriend ke saath kiya tha.
Me: nahin
She: Tabhi to chhod ke gayi,
Me: Kya matlab?
She: Bura mat manna sahab, par human tendency hai, hum aksar ajnabiyo ko woh sab keh jaate hai to hum apno se nahin keh paate. Kyunki ajnabee kabhi dhoka nahin dete hai. Dhoka woh dete hai, jispar aap bharosa karte ho.

Me: Now you are confusing me. I thought yeh harey huye aashiq aap par bharosa karte hai.
She: Aapka waqt khatama hua. Mere aur bhi appointments hai.

Me: thehro kam se kam clarify to karo.
She: Clarification is the end of conversation. Human nature Sir. Confused rahoge to curious rahoge. Curious rahoge to jawab maangne mere paas baar baar aaoge. Humare business mein isey Insurance policy kehte hai.

She didn’t wait. She left the room. She left me confused. Although I knew she intentionally did that. I knew she does it with most customers to get them to call everyday. I knew this confusion was just a made up strategy. Yet I called her the next day. Human tendency. And look who taught me.

It Started With A Friend Request….

first love

By Rimpy Goyal

An emotionally unstable person that I am, all it took to boost my mood was a friend request in FB. Yes, a boon that FB is to us!!

A casual talk about searching for my boy friend lead to some references. Now how funny it could be that boyfriends could also be chosen by referrals. T’s spouse’s colleague. Yes, You read it right. And all started with Facebook request. Exchanging numbers, talking for hours, coffee outing and rest followed. And with it followed the fun of getting teased too. Something that I had not experienced before.

Mornings at work unusually became exciting. Not because of the work but because of the comments that I received from fellow friends. Someone has rightly said love makes the skin glow. And that glow probably showed in me.

And then came a dinner invite, an invite common to both of us. And with it came an opportunity to meet him. And such was the meeting that it never felt like the first one. I have always felt lonely amidst the crowd. I have always been in search of a friend to share things. Little did I know that I would fall for this guy whom I met through someone and that to on web.

Someone who sang songs for me at the second meeting, who cared about my friendship and my feelings. I was falling frankly and falling loud and fast. A Punjabi song from a non Punjabi guy really means some stuff for me. Yes, Jidha Chandigarh lagda na tere bina dil…Haye Mera Dil..Haye Mera Dil….And I went flat!!

I don’t know if this is called Love. What I know is I have got a good friend by whatever means it may be and I am enjoying this phase of my life. And I would really thank all my friends for teasing me time and again. It was due to it that this journey started!!

If you love someone truly and are meant to be together then even the Lord can’t separate. At the end of the day, for me the crux of the whole matter is that valuing friendship and relations is the only thing that makes life worth it.

The write-up above is a work of fiction.

Love In The Times Of Recession: Chapter 1: Bull Whip Effect


The boys in the class had enough reasons to feel bored and sleepy; they did not need a lesson on the bull whip theory to add to their misery. Some killed their boredom through their i-pods; some did it through playing the oldest fashioned game of book cricket. While Ayushman kept Ashima’s falling hair at bay and tried understanding the concept itself.

Ashima rubbed her eyes every few minutes; she tried concentrating hard on what the professor was trying to explain. Every time she did that, the words on the white board appeared more alien to her.

Ayushman continued making his notes, the class continued to yawn and Ashima finished drawing the caricature of a bored classroom. The bell rang and BIM-B batch five room number 101 had a spring in their stride. Unanimously they seconded the professor’s teachings and rushed out for a desperate smoke break.

Ayushman stood in one corner, reflecting on the class and smoking his roll up. Rahul was standing next to him cribbing about the Bull whip effect; Ayushman though was lost in another world. He tried hard to forget the presence of Ashima sitting next to him in the class. He searched for answers within, why he did not mind the occasional fall of her hair on his shoulder, he wondered what had changed post the summer internship. He finished the roll up stubbed it on the ground and walked towards the bus. Rahul tagged along still cribbing about the class.

Ayushman stared at Rahul, told him that ‘He had used a similar theory last year at a college fest’. Rahul probed further, Ayushman rolled up another joint and patiently explained ‘You don’t have to learn such things, just think what happened when the professor taught you Bull-Whip effect, you didn’t get anything right. That was because the professor wasn’t quite clear of what he wanted to say, and that is what the Bull-Whip effect is all about’. Rahul shook his head in the affirmative but his blank expression spoke another story.

The ride to the hostel was more joyous for the band of boys than the blue lit classroom of management lessons. Some spoke about the latest crack codes to break into pornographic sites, others cribbed about the class, some frowned that the girl’s hostel was a far cry from theirs; others seconded their opinion by adding that the managing committee should have taken lessons from them before choosing the girls.

The one common link that binds this nation and its people together is the lack of electricity. The boys trudged the steps to reach their rooms. None cribbed though about the failed power. Ayushman picked up his guitar and went on the terrace, rolled up another joint and started playing it.

Rahul sat next to him, smoking a cigarette and sipping on chilled beer, when he questioned Ayushman, whether he had seen how beautiful Ashima looked today in the class.

Ayushman continued playing the guitar, as Rahul probed further ‘did you see that white thing hanging out of her closet’? Ayushman took a deep puff inside, circled the smoke in the air and answered ‘mate concentrate harder on your studies and you will experience many such whites all your life’.

Slowly the whole band of boys entered the terrace, and stood around Ayushman clapping with him as his music reached a crescendo.

Rajiv sat in a smoke filled room, working on his laptop trying to understand the dynamics of the project. His phone flashed Ashima’s number. He chose to ignore it. After ten attempts he picked up the phone and faced her wrath.

Ashima was upset that Rajiv was avoiding her; he on the other hand was grappling with the project as there was a presentation the following day. Ashima changed the topic to the happenings in the class, to which Rajiv showed least interest. After several attempts to draw his attention towards her talks she disconnected the phone.

Her phone buzzed, it had fallen on the floor, with the cover on one side and the body on the other. Ashima had slumped next to her cupboard and had tears rolling down her cheek. She remembered a similar day few years back, when Rajiv had walked into her life and had proved to be her guiding angel with a magic wand.

His young boyish charm and humour had her in splits; she continued crying as she reflected upon the past memories.

She remembered the long walks they used to take back home after the night shift. How safe she used to feel with him, in the unsafe capital. The first hug she got from him after his failed attempt at a self cooked dinner date. The phone kept ringing as the tears slowly started changing into a smile.

Ashima got up from the floor; re arranged her phone and tried calling Rajiv again. As the phone rang, she remembered how she lost her virginity to the man she loved the most in the whole world. She frowned at herself, for even thinking twice whether she had made the right choice. The phone kept ringing.

This Book Is A Copyright of the author. Any Infringement or usage on any other website will invite legal action. 

The Photograph above has been taken from http://www.facebook.com/taylor.maries.photos. For more such pictures visit the wonderful page. 

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Love In The Times of Recession: The Last Day



Our Anonymous Author gives us her first, a prologue of yet to be published book “Love In The Times of Recession”. Have a read. 

Till 3 a.m. they were together speaking to each other, both were portraying they were normal, but then there was something in there mind. Tomorrow they will probably see each other for the last time.

The only question in their mind was “Whether they will be able to see each other after this?” Ayushman was going away, to resolve some unresolved questions of life with the hope that he will convert his dreams into reality. But he was leaving behind something, which even if it was a dream was probably better than many realities. What was that?

Ashima was not able to sleep that night. She had waited for the morning with all the breath she could accumulate. At the same time she did not want the morning to come because she knew that that could probably be the last time she would see Ayushman.

There was a certain heartache today that she could feel. Those last four days had been an era for her. She knew that she just might not live like that again or may be this was the beginning of a life where-in everyday would be like the last four days. Four days which made her feel like a princess, most loved and the luckiest person on the planet. As time passed, both continued to struggle with the feeling of “Going Away”.

6 o clock, morning of 5th Jan 2009, Ayushman called Ashima and said. “I am reaching there in 15 minutes….” 15 minutes plus 5 minutes of stay and he will be gone. Gone for no idea what duration. Ashima was struggling again.

The morning was beautiful but as they say Beauty can kill. It looked like one of those days when a beautiful morning was about to kill two young individuals. Ayushman left his hostel. Ashima came down from her 1st floor room, eagerly waiting; her eyes were on that noisy road which was for a strange reason seemed silent for her.

Ayushman was leaving everything behind, those days, friends, his college and now Ashima. Though they were going to meet each other but today there was a sense of melancholy floating in the air. The excitement of the last four days had disappeared.

The auto-rickshaw finally appeared. Ayushman stepped out but for some Ashima could not go towards her. Something was stopping her, maybe the thought that the sooner she meets her, the quicker he will leave. But she has to because Ayushman has to leave. That is how life is, cruel sometimes, lovely on most occasions.

Ayushman was looking in those eyes. Ashima was trying hard to stop herself, asking tears not to disturb her eyes which wanted to see her Ayushman last time. The moment was amazing and unforgettable for her, that last touch, that last hug and that last…………..