I'm draped in 6 yards of fabric, It wraps around my body that I hated when it grew, Attracting unwanted hands that crawled all over it,

Hands that I could chop off if it touched me again, if only someone believed what they did to me then. I love all these fabrics that wraps around my body, I own them, cherish them, desire them, I handpicked each of them, I worked for them, I admire those who admire them more than my body. My body transforms into them, As these fabrics transformed in the intricate fingers of men who touched them delicately, Designed them to perfection, Crafted with backbreaking sweat and love, Men who loved their women and the woman in them. I like it better when I wrap around you the way a saree wraps around me, My whole 6 yards on your 6 ft body, Soft music in the background, No phone calls from your mum or voice msg to interrupt, No complaints or honks from curious onlookers, Just bliss like sunshine glowing on the snows of Calgary in our backyard, When I'm baked in the sun, And the sobriety of miles of mountains that brings happy tears out of me. I would happily weave through your hair to put you to sleep, I'll be the perfect host to your friends - my enemies, Crack jokes, fight over remote control, resist your desire to make love in the middle of the night, Watch crime patrol and slurp on tall dark men, I'll say prayers and blow air all over you but let's not do all that I know you want me to. I know you love my body and all of me, My whims, my mood swings, my breasts, my hips, My skin that melts on your tall hard grip. Burns I cause you, insults I infer, wounds of my words that tears through your heart. I see through your thick glasses Your yearnings, protests, submission, defense. Your poker face doesn't fool me I can see your eyes undo the drapes off me. The world isn't just, I cry out when I can, In cubbies in the bathroom, Or in chat room with friends. My body was taken away from me I want it back And not just to drape it with hundred of yards of fabric I have stacked

By the time you are here 

I'd probably be gone.

In the mean time we will have visited our memories the thousandth time 

And have known by then - they've lost their appeal.

We will have produced children and figured out that blood clots don't work like glue. 

We would have realized we waited too long to figure out what we wanted

to do with our lives and what togetherness ever meant to us.

The tax breaks and joint accounts will have lost their convenience.

We will have discovered that we need faceless men and women in our bed to desire each other,

the distractions will have become our usual routines and we desire less and less. 

Our conversation will be limited to asking each other the pick up and drop off schedules,

The fights will have become infrequent so are the complaints.

Each day will begin and end with just five texts or less,

with replies of yes, no, I'll let you know, ok, bye and take care.

We will be making excuses to not sleep in the same bed for days, months, and then years.

And we will surely know it is time to end it 

when we will want to fall in love and succeed with someone else all over again.

Obituary

You are not here or anywhere,
Not a call away,
Not in any better place or worse than what it was.
You didn't perish in the soil,
You didn't turn into ashes,
You didn't carve a stone in your name and claim a piece of land.

The glass you didn't empty still bears the mark of your last sip,
The ashtray carries burn from the cigarettes you forgot to smoke,
The books you wrote and read stacked in the shelves,
Your photographs, handwritings, edits and editorials archived and dusted everyday.
Your words are recited in gatherings in fond memories of colleagues relieved no one would fuss about their mistakes,
Your doctors no longer worry about not giving hopes
Or frustrated that you'd never quit smoking and you just won't listen.
You were never afraid, never to be tamed or disciplined in any way.
You are no longer a child, a lover, a friend or a father.

I sip a drink before bedtime,
Rewind our discussions about date of births as births of deaths and
Everything that I learned with you,
Unfolding the pains of life you tried so hard to hide from me and failed,
I trained myself to carry on with my 9-5 life in the mean time,
as a mother, a wife, a lover and a friend as well.
The myth and mystery of death invade my days and nights again and again,
I escape in highs in my four walls and in tunnels of memories I make.
It would have been so much better
If we could chat away another evening like old times,
Wishing I didn't hang up so soon.
We've had this discussion- how it all ends,
As if to prepare ourselves all this time for this day
And despite all that and all the years that passed or will pass it hurts no less.

It's not bcoz we live in two continents,
the time zones are just a couple of hours away.
It's not bcoz we're too busy for small talks,
But the daily chores takes hours from the day.

We haven't been high together for quite a few years
But the memory of those sounds plays again and again.

This isn't the end of what we began
It's just that Time ticks hours and days.
I know you are just a call away
I know we'll pick up right where we were.

I may forget to wish you on your days
But I know we don't need these anyways.

I'm too embarrassed to tell you how I am,
I'm fighting my old battles all by myself.

I'm just too tired at the end of the day,
The traffic, commute burns me out everyday.
Although I hide behind my complacent face
I know you'll hear me through right away.

I used to accept my denying self
But these days I face my anger and fear.
The heartburns are over, the angers are shelfed
The fears no longer haunt me my dear.

I'll come see you around one day
I hope we'll pick up right where we were.

A list of to dos incomplete
You and I both disagreed
I've been thinking to call it quits
But both of us want to linger it.

I know your smile when it's just fake
I rub your shoulder to keep awake.
You rolled over my robe sleeping dead,
Just when I was leaving the bed.

I waited on the promises made,
They came too late - I moved ahead.
I fly alone on holidays,
A seat in tour buses is all it takes.

The reverse camera takes average frames,
Shoes and backpack claim I'm there
Strangers ask me if I'm alone,
I pass their queries in soft tones.

I wake in big hotel room alone
The morning prayer calls me at dawn.
The window brings in smells of sea
View of old city with breakfast tea.

Silence wakes my soul from sleep
A hungry nomad craves in me.
I'll be back soon in life of routine
Walls of prison, bubbles within.

I'll come home to sleep with your snores,
In my dreams I'll dive alone.

Mirrors on the wall often lie
I'm not perfect
I'm not there yet.
I have twins, loving parents, husband, work that I love,
a beautiful house on the bay,
Vacation on exotic islands
But I'm not there yet.

My neighbors splurge on LV
I only have Burberry
As if I have all the time in the world,
To hear housewives nag in the middle of my work.
I can't hang up,
I can't say shut the fuck up.

I pay my taxes
I wake at 4 am.
My mortgages are up to date
I'm at boot camp at 5 am.
My loans are all sorted out
I'm at work at 6:30 am.
I climb the stairs. I walk.
I quit sugar. I only eat healthy stuff.
But I'm not perfect. I'm not there yet.
I have that extra .4 pounds.

My buffet menu is elaborate
I decorate birthdays myself.
I want everything to be perfect.
That little kid just scratched my brand new bench.
Mrs X is packing left overs for everyone else.
I've more invitations to attend.
Potlucks, Housewarming gifts, another baby shower event.

My kids should get in Ivy League schools.
I'm worried to death.
I can't sleep. Maybe I should send them to private schools to graduate.
Yes they are just four.
But there is no harm planning early.

Mrs Z invited over to show off her new chaise.
Mr J flaunts his corvette.
My Facebook walls floods with husbands flaunting their wive's success.
Have I made it?
Perhaps not.
I hear nobody singing odes to my beauty or my success.
Haven't I done enough to deserve some envious green flashes.
I hate that middle age married bitch
Flirting and showing off.
I can't wear sleeveless, I can't show off enough cleavage.
I can't be stingy, I can't brag. 
shamelessly put up status on my wall, beat my own drums, shoot some down and put a crown on my head.

My friends say I have it all,
They say I'm glowing
My kids are the cutest.
My husband and I have the best couple shots.
I'm adored. I have the perfect body & health.
I turned 37 today
But I know for sure I am not perfect.
I know I'm definitely not there yet.