Magic

That I'll always keep fresh curd in the fridge, homemade if I can manage, so there's always a bowl ready when he wants it. That I'll keep plain curd on the table during meals so he can mix it with anything without asking. That I'll save the last spoonful of set curd to use as starter for the next batch, so it's always his perfect taste. That I'll have chilled curd ready in a bowl after he comes back from gym or a long day, no questions asked. That I'll make raita with his favorite veggies and will try to remember how he exactly likes it. Sep-2025

From childhood’s shadowed lanes I’ve walked alone, Carrying storms in a fragile heart of stone. Problems like rain, endless and cold, Drowned my days, turned my nights to gold, Not the bright kind, but the heavy, weary fold of sorrow that clings and never lets go. I dreamed of a partner, gentle and true, Who’d hold my overthinking like morning dew, Who’d understand the knots inside my mind, Not sleep in peace while I lay undefined. There came a man who stirred my quiet sea, His words like honey, yet his heart stayed free. I waited long, with hope as my only light, Thinking time would soften his edges, make him right. But Ego sat first on his throne every day, And my tears were just stories he’d hear and walk away. He praised my strength “No other would stay, you tolerate me in your patient way.” Yet tolerance isn’t love, nor silence a cure, I needed care, not just admiration pure. So now I’ve decided, with quiet, steady grace, I’m walking away without leaving a trace. No explanations, no final goodbye, Just the soft sound of my heart learning to fly. If he returns, drawn by the space I’ve made, Perhaps he’ll see what his ego betrayed. If he came per se, it would be Almighty's best gift, If he doesn’t come, will go with the flow.

She wants to laugh out loud, but the walls hold her back. A joke from her mouth feels like breaking a rule they never wrote down. “Girls shouldn’t be funny,” they say with a frown, so she bites down the words and lets silence drown. Mom throws little taunts every day, sharp as needles, soft as care. They sting and they stay, hidden under her hair Each one leaves a mark that nobody sees, a slow kind of ache that brings her to her knees. Dad looks at the storm in her eyes and calls it a flaw. “Mental,” he says with a sigh, “frustrated—you’re breaking the law of being calm, being good, being still.” As if all her fire is some kind of illness to kill. She almost never fights back, keeps the anger inside. Swallows the words she could crack, lets the hurt quietly hide. And deep in the night when the house falls asleep, she wonders alone where a girl’s laugh can leap if even at home it’s too loud, too deep. 06/06/2025

Should I tell him? What have I planned: That how to decorate our home where his happy parents, his siblings and our kids will live. That I will build a home, for which he will have the urge to get back early. That I will do his skincare and will rub his feet with moisturizer while going to bed. That I will iron his clothes and comb his hair when he freshens up in the morning. That I will save his contact number with the name "Him" and him as my wallpaper. That I haven't planned the names of our kids yet because their grandparents would do so. But I will teach them to call him "Baba". 10/27/2025

For my final act of love: I would take all our 'almosts' and 'could-have-beens' and bury them where they can no longer haunt his sleep. I would spend my last coin of time buying him a moment of absolute peace. I would erase the reflection of my sadness from his eyes so he can see his own light again. I would wash the 'sorry' from his skin until he breathes as if he never owed the world a single thing. I would stand as a wall between him and the chaos, until his pulse slows to a steady hum. I would pray to be the cool side of his pillow that only he knows when to use. I would become the door that closes without a sound, ending the draft that’s been chilling his heart for years. I would slip away like the tide, leaving the shore of his mind clean and quiet.