Friday, 27 October 2017

Irfan Pathan - Living my Dream

To believe in fairytales, you got to live one. And, I couldn't have asked for a better version than this for myself. In fact, the reality is far more beautiful than what a fairytale could have been. 

It was December 2003, India was touring Australia and the team's spearhead and my favorite Zaheer Khan was injured and a lanky 19 year old with curly hair and the cutest smile made his Test debut. Little did I know I would be falling head over heels for this 19 year old boy, Irfan Pathan. Initially, it was his bowling that caught my attention. It wasn't just me, the entire nation was swooned by his swinging ability so much that he was touted to be the next Indian bowling sensation. Moving over his bowling, his charming smile and luscious curls made me go weak in my knees. I had been following his game ever since. Every mention of his in a newspaper article would find its way into my scrap book which is kept intact till date.

My fairytale started in 2013 when Irfan joined Twitter. My happiness touched cloud nine. After almost a decade of loving him, doting him, adoring him; I could now express it to him. A place where he would at least read if not respond to whatever I had to say to him. It all began with numerous mentions every day. My day would start and end with salutations to him (It still does. I can't sleep without wishing him good night!). Sometimes he would RT the mentions but never reply or interact in any way. 

It was on Eid in 2014 when everything changed. I wished Irfan and asked him for a 'follow back' as my Eidi half expecting him to oblige. To my utter astonishment, he did! I was elated beyond measures. I was in office and was barely able to contain my happiness. I tweeted a thanks to him and made 'n' number of calls to tell my near and dear ones. I was so excited that I forgot I could now DM him and thank him personally! (I still forget this in excitement!) People who were happy to know congratulated me and the cynical ones added, 'Arey he'll unfollow tomorrow.' Their cynicism rubbed on me and very stupidly I tweeted him asking not to unfollow. Yes, I was that a silly fangirl. I still am. Shall always be for him. #ForeverAnIrFAN :D

After that, I kept bugging him in DMs. Talked, talked and talked and he was sweet enough to reply, to fulfill my silly requests like changing his DP, taking a selfie challenge etc. Not once did he ever wince upon whatever I said or did. Though I made sure to keep asking him if he was being irritated by me in any way. As time passed by, a relation of mutual trust and fondness was built. I was struggling in my career and one point and Irfan was my go-to man. He offered help without being asked for. There was a time when I had decided to give up, but his words of wisdom, motivation and appreciation kept me going. Now, he knew of my existence. I wasn't just another fan for him. He knew me. But, as human as I am, I wanted to talk to him and meet him. So, next year, 2015, I made a wish to talk to him over the phone this Eid. Though we already had each other's numbers, I didn't want to breach that line.

In July 2015, after Eid, he entered Jhalak Dikhla Jaa as a contestant and the show had an arrangement where you could call and talk to your fave contestant via phone. I had just decided to try my luck when I got a call from the show saying that Irfan wanted me to be the one calling him on the show! After that phone call, he invited me to Bombay on the sets and finally on 6th of August 2015, I cherished my 12 years long dream of meeting Irfan Pathan. 
At Bombay, Aug 2015
Jhalak Dikhla Jaa

The journey didn't end there. This is a dream with no end. In 2016 when Irfan tied the knot with Safa, I was certainly heartbroken but he soothed the hurt by inviting me to his wedding. Later that year in November, he was in Nagpur to play a Ranji game and he met my family. The way he and Yusuf bhai met and talked to my family, never felt like they weren't a part of it. Such humble beings they are. My niece has grown fond of both of them ever since that evening.
At VCA, Nagpur, Nov 2016

I have known Irfan from a distance since 2003 and from very close quarters since 2014. And, there's not a bit about him that is different. The only difference, perhaps, is that I have personal experiences to narrate and tell people about his humbleness. To love back a fan the way he did, can only be dreamt of. The ever smiling and calm demeanor of his' can soothe all the restlessness in you. He never fails to provide words of encouragement when needed. Has helped me not only in my personal matters but many a friends of mine who needed help. 

I have always said that words fail me when I have to talk about or tell what and how much Irfan Pathan means to me. Today, I tried to put it in words on occasion of his birthday but I know, for the writer in me, this is not even half close to doing justice to what I feel for him.

PS: You shall always be loved, always ;)

Monday, 27 March 2017

Pandraah Baras

Barso'n baad aaj woh letter pad khola
Jis mein tumhe khat likha karti thi.
Woh neeche kinari pe bane gehuwe phool
Aur upar mein banni udhti chidiya'n.
Main woh phool thi, murjhati aur phir khilti
Tum un azaad panchhiyo'n ki tarah, khud mein mashgool.

Kuch pandrah solah khatt likhey the tumhe
Abhi bhi kuch warq bachhe hain is mein.
Meri nazr uss akhri khatt ki chaap par padhi
Ek dheemi si hassi mere labo'n se chhooth gayi.
Yun to mujhe woh aaj bhi zabaani yaad hai
Har ik woh khatt jo tumhe likha tha.

In lafzo'n pe haath phera to woh zakhm sabz ho utha
Hijr ka woh akhri khatt aaj bhi be-jawaab hai.
Tumhari khamoshi ke kayi'n matlab nikaale the maine
Lekin koi bhi mere dil ko behla na saka.
Aksar sochti hoon agar tum likhtey to kya likhtey
Phir har uss jawaab ke badle main apna jawaab sochti.

Tumhare jawaab ke intezaar mein main waqt ka hisaab bhool baithi
Aaj jab ispe woh akhri khatt ki tareekh dekhi to khud pe hass padhi.
Pandrah baras beet gaye hain uss din ko
Aur main aaj bhi tanhaayi mein uska jawaab sochti hoon.
Shayad tumhe woh khat mila hi na ho
Shayad tumne usse padha hi na ho
Agle pandrah baras yeh soch ke guzaar lungi.

Tuesday, 14 March 2017


sadak ke modh par jo woh khandar hai
aaj usse kareeb se dekha maine
woh waqt se kumlayi mat maili deewarein
woh sar se paer tak cheenkhti daraarein
unhe sun ne ke liye, main bheetar chali gayi

tooti dehleez mujhe dekh muskura di
sehmi se maine ek kadam andar ki or rakha
baase ashiyaan ki bu thi uss khandar me
haan, kabhi kisi ka ashiyaan to raha hoga

dining table pe toote hue do pyaale the
shayad akhri baar unhone yahin chai pi hogi
un baaton ki dhool se mez dhaka hua tha
wahi bagal mein ek pen bhi thi.

theek table ke peeche ek toota photo frame tha
makdi ke jaalo se bhara hua
usme lagi hui tasveer kuch fat si gayi thi
haseen lamhe ko sanjo kar maano thak si gayi thi

yeh khule hue jharokhein intezaar mein jhaanktey hain
aate jaate koi to yahan nazar karey
aaye, baethe phir yahan koi
aur iss khandar ko ashiyaan kare.

Thursday, 23 June 2016

Innocence Raped

His fingers caressed her neck moving around her clavicles. She giggled, innocently, saying, 'It's tickling, uncle. Please stop.' He didn't pay heed to her requests. He lifted her up and straddled her on his knees. She played with the pen in his pocket. Unaware of her uncle's intention. She kept giggling merrily until uncle's hand reached to her panty. 'Uncle, mama said nobody is allowed to touch me here. Not even papa. I'm not liking this.' She tried to jump off his lap. He held her by hand and pushed her closer. 'Okay. I won't touch you there but can uncle give you a kissie?' She smiled, 'Yes, uncle.' He grabbed the opportunity with his lips and sucked her's blue.

Four years old Mia was wounded for life that day. The lascivious intentions of her uncle scarred her in a way that changed her life.

Mia pulled away and jumped off his lap, sobbing. She was too young to understand right and wrong but, she did understand that she didn't like what had happened. That night, when her mother tucked her into bed, Mia was quiet. She didn't want to listen to a bedtime story. Her mother ignored the changed behaviour. Her mother's indifference made her withdraw into a shell. Mia didn't speak about the incidence.

Every other day when her uncle came, she resisted meeting him but, like most parents failed, her's did too and she was made to sit with him, mostly in his lap. A setting where he picked up every opportunity to innocently exploit her innocence. One night, at bedtime, she confessed her feelings to her mother, 'Mama, I don't like to be with uncle.' She clutched to her mother's waist and wailed leaving her mother confused. Everybody thought he was her favorite uncle. 'Why?' her mother asked. 'He touches me where even papa is not allowed to touch. I told him many times that I don't like it.'

Her mother sat still on the bed trying to fathom what she had just heard. How could his brother do that to her daughter! Why didn't she ever noticed his behaviour with Mia?

Today, Mia turned 18 and her uncle stood in front of her with his 7 years old daughter. She was seeing him, today, 14 years later after that night. He smiled at her but she turned away. The wounds of childhood weren't healed. They never will. He is the reason she doesn't trust any man in her life. Not even her father. He didn't only rape her innocence but also dented her mental health for the rest of her life.

Wednesday, 17 February 2016

वोह रात (Woh Raat)

 तुम्हें लिखते लिखते न जाने कितने कॉफ़ी के कप खाली किये थे उस रात मैंने। तुम्हारे जाने के बाद की हर रात की कहानी लिख डाली थी। उन पन्नों पर तुम्हें लिख तो दिया था मगर तुम्हें खुद से अलग न कर सकी थी। उलट पलट के उन पन्नों को बार बार देखा। कईं देर तक देखती रही। फ़िर, एक चिंगारी सुलगाई और तुम्हे फूँक डाला। बरसों बीत गयी है उस रात को मगर आज भी, मेज़ पर रखे उस गुलदान में पड़ी उन पन्नों की राख में तुम्हें ज़िंदा रखा हुआ है। 

Tumhe likhte likhte na jaane kitne coffee ke cup khaali kiye the uss raat maine. Tumhare jaane ke baad ki har raat ki kahaani likh daali thi. Unn panno par tumhe likh to diya tha magar khud se alag na kar saki thi. Ulat palat ke unn panno ko baar baar dekha. Kayi'n daer tal dekhti rahi. Phir, ek chingaari sulgaayi aur tumhe phoonk daala. Barso'n beet gayi hai uss raat ko magar aaj bhi, mez par rakhe uss guldaan mein padhi unn panno ki raakh mein tumhe zinda rakha hua hai.

Sunday, 29 November 2015


Ek lambe arsey baad miley the dono
Saath khaamoshi le kar aaye the
Bahut kuch kehna tha
Bahut kuch sun na tha
Khaamoshi bolti rahi

Un khaamosh lamho'n mein
Bahut kuch kaha dono ne
Bahut kuch suna bhi
Labh unke hiley nahi'n

Sehmi nazar se ek dusre ko taraasha
Woh baalo'n mein ugti hui chaandni
Woh maathe pe waqt ki daraarei'n
Aaj bhi woh chehra utna hi haseen tha

Dheemi si muskaan ke saath
Sharm se usne jhuka li aakhei'n
Maano jaise woh keh raha tha
'Tum aaj bhi utni hi haseen ho'

Haule se guzarta hua waqt
Yakh-basta ho gaya
Beeti sadi ki yaadei'n
Kaano mein gunguna gaya

Baithe rahe woh khaamosh
Aur guftgu chalti rahi
Bahut kuch kaha dono ne
Bahut kuch suna bhi

Ek arse ke giley shikwe the
Khaamoshi se hi sulajhne the
Suljhe lekin..
Waqt ulajhta chala gaya

Wednesday, 20 May 2015

Indifferent Love

He watched an ice cube melt over her navel. She quivered, watching him, as water trickled down. He moved closer and made circles around with his tongue making her let out a soft moan.

He moved over her straddling himself on her thighs. He held onto her hands as he bent down over her navel. The ice cube kept melting. Water kept trickling down her curves making her tickle with passion. He let out a warm breath over the navel and drank the melted water from the goblet of her navel. He poured a drop of red wine into her. Savoring both, her navel and wine, he moved his hands over her bosom.

He cupped her bosom while savoring wine from her navel. She tried to curl her legs but he stretched straight on her holding her legs with his'. She let out a pleasurable moan. He kept licking at her navel. She began to plead, she was being tortured albeit pleasurably. He made her helpless with holding her hands and legs.

He began moving upward leaving a trail of intoxicated kisses from her navel to the bosom. He stopped, looked up into her eyes, gave a notorious smile and bit on her left areola. She screamed, in pain and desire. He crushed her nipple between his teeth, mercilessly. She cried a moan until he began caressing it with his lips, softly.

He moved his hand over her right bosom while playing with his tongue over the left one. Squeezing and stroking one, sucking and licking the other one. She trembled under him. She moved her free arm on his back sliding downwards to his buttocks. She spanked him taking him by surprise. He stiffened and froze when she spanked him, harder, the second time. He let out an astonished moan. A moan that told how much he loved the surprise.
She winked at him. He smiled back as he bent down and locked lips. He kissed her slow. Very slow. She moved her hands over his back, gently, making circles with her tender fingers. She moved them down on his buttocks and pressed him towards herself. He smiled on her lips knowing precisely what she meant. It was time to go down. Her libidinous demons were waiting to be exorcised.

He broke the kiss and began sliding down. On the way he kissed her on chin, moved further down to her neck where he left a trail of wet kisses. Onto her bosom where he said a wet hello to both. A kiss on her cleavage, a run for the tongue between that. He moved down to her belly. His hands resting on her love handles. His lips kissing every inch of her skin. He stopped at the navel and played with it for a while before sucking it. He moved to her lower abdomen, just above her paradise. He drew a line across the area with his tongue kissing slowly all around. At last, he came to her paradise, looked up at her, gave a smile and let out a warm breath over it.

A loud ring distracted him. He turned around and saw the deafeningly ringing alarm clock by the bedside. He shifted in his bed only to realize he was dreaming, dreaming about the lost intimacy between them. She sat across the bed tying her hair into a bun. Her curvy silhouette against the morning sun made him crave for her. He stayed still in his side of the bed. She stood up, without turning back to him, and disappeared in the bathroom. He laid in bed with his dreamy eyes on the ceiling reminiscing the mornings when she used to wake him up with kisses. He let out a loud sigh and turned his back to the bathroom.
The breakfast table felt more like an obligation than family time. Their home was devoid of laughter. Neither of them smiled. They had grown ignorant of each other's presence in their lives, at least they pretended to do so when left within the confines of their home.
He never felt as guilty as he did today morning for that fateful night. The memory of that night was still fresh as a dew in his life. That was the night their relationship took an unpleasant turn.

1 year ago

Ravish and Namita invited envious gaze from everybody around them. They were a couple who redefined marriage with love. Their love for each other grew deeper with every passing day until that fateful night at a colleague's house party to celebrate Ravish's phenomenal success in the company over a very short span of time. Rumours about Ravish's sexual favors to their boss were rife but Namita had downplayed them all this while until that cold December night.

That cold December night

The celebrations were loud with music & dance and alcohol & food. The extravagant show of finesse in every department could barely  miss an eye. Everybody was high in and on spirits dancing all night. Post 2 am, Namita felt exhaustingly tipsy and went upstairs, away from the hullabaloo, in search of a place to relax. She turned to the first room to the left and collapsed on the bed.

The door banged open, at around 3 am, waking Namita from her drunk nap. She could barely manage to open her eyes. Her head was heavy and tizzy. Her vision blurred with sleep. But, her pupils dilated and vision cleared when she saw Ravish in a passionate lip lock with his boss, Mr. Das.

She froze in bed with eyes wide open in astonishment. Her heart stopped beating. She couldn't fathom what she was witnessing. She knew she was neither dreaming nor hallucinating. It was Ravish and Mr. Das, in the act, caught unawares. Breathless, she witnessed the homosexual act of his husband with his boss from under the comforter in that dimly lit bedroom.

Mr. Das's fingers were caressing Ravish's neck and his hands were traveling down into the backside of Mr. Das's pants whilst their tongues were rummaging each other's mouth. Ravish pushed Mr. Das towards him. Mr. Das let out a moaning laugh. Ravish undid Mr. Das's fly and went down on him. Namita didn't want to believe what she was seeing but she didn't have a choice. She couldn't react. She laid numb in that bed witnessing it all.

Ravish cupped Mr. Das's cullion and kissed at his tip. Slowly, he moved Mr. Das into his mouth whilst Mr. Das enjoyed the pleasure with closed eyes, loud moans and pulling onto Ravish's hair. A few minutes later, Ravish stood up and undid his fly. His pants dropped down pooling around his feet. He then turned around and bent over for his boss. Mr. Das spanked him as he moaned aloud. Mr. Das moved a finger between his butt crack before plunging into him. Namita closed her eyes and wept uncontrollably before mustering courage to stand up and confront Ravish.

This day

Ravish wanted to apologize to her for everything he did but couldn't dare speak a word. She sipped coffee while glancing through her newspaper. She stood up and walked towards the main door. She turned back towards him as she opened the door. He waited with bated breath for her to speak something. She did. She said, 'Today's the last day,' and moved out closing the door behind her.