Encountering Regrets HIV+

I know dis person he's goin 2 die soon, he too knows it. Dat thing is in his blood. It wont let him go. It slaps his cells for food. It soaks his night in sweat. His days r breaking in pain. He's fearing death. No hand or drug can treat his limbs for love or gain. The VIRUS is killing away his capacity 2 fight.

love was the strange 1st cause dat bred grief in its seed. He was unaware of the gain which had its own laws, 2 establish its place & breed. His hands struggling hard 2 join in attitude of prayer. He loves God but he wont speak of hope or cure coz he knows that it wont do him any good. He has read life. He has foreseen death. The devil devouring him in his magmatic spleen.

He is hopeless, he is helpless, he is in fear- The fear of

how will he go on?

how will he bear this taste?

he is toiling for his last breaths..

he is toiling for his last beats..

His throat cased in a white spawn. It is a waste handshake, he's requesting his loved 1s to b by his steel ward bed & hold him where he lies, coz he says,

"LOVE ME WHEN I AM DEAD

& DO NOT LET ME DIE.."

HOUSE OF GOD

I had been 2 Western Maharashtra long years back. I reached der by Dawn- the ball of sun suspended above a railway track, bt I was in darkness, I had a divided perspective 2wards understanding religion seein the temples in all way dilapidated conditions.
I stepped inside an age old temple. The titanic temple of deities spread around @ each wall.
The Seated KHANDOBA on Ram(goat); The Stood VITTHAL on brick Besides RAKHUMAI in her stoned saree & our very own undetachable MAHABALI HANUMAN (MARUTI) engraved out of a stone.
The roof had come down on the deities heads. Nobody seemed 2 mind, least of all the God himself. May b he liked the temple this better way.
In a corner a mongrel bitch had found a place for herself & her pupies. Past a doorway was cluttered wid broken tiles. The pariah (social outcasted) Puppies lookin @ u & their mother guarding them. A black puppy had gone a little far & I cud hear a tile click under its foot.
A terror strike my heart. I saw a dung beetle makin its way 2 the safety of the broken collection box. The crushing weight of the roof beam was felt by me! I felt sad not for the God's Bt for those ZENDU (marigold) flowers which I always hated as i considered them the flowers for the corpses.
IT WAS NO MORE A PLACE OF WORSHIP - THIS PLACE IS NOTHING LESS THEN "THE HOUSE OF GOD"

Flavours Of Classroom

In my proceeding blog m showin my catty side 2wards my embroidery teacher wen I ws in 6th Grade of my school. I recollected dis wen a similar incident happened wid 1 of my neighbours daughter & I felt like tracing it down on the blogspot window.
My Embroidery Teacher who intervened for the craft's class- The period of sewing, Knitting & embroidery. Dat day she voiced us(all students) 2 stitch a 'petticoat' for a stuffed doll which we had made earlier. I measured, I cut, I stitched, but she scolded me & remarked, "the seam of the petticoat u've cut r worthy of an elephant, My Dear..!"
"My Dear- My Foot- SILLY BRALESS BITCH", I cursed whole heartedly. My classmate heard me. She scandalised me-
"Aneil is calling Bad words, Teacher ! He's sewing up her head for the 3rd time (perhaps the doll)"
though the limbs kept flopping & the cotton kept popping out of the gaps. But I cudn't help, what cud I do? Being a Boy I cudn't sew properly. I upholded the brevity as my hallmark & 2day wen i retrieve the incident I feel guilty for my frustration expressed in those 3 sharp words-
" SILLY - BRALESS - BITCH "
I am Sorry Teacher :(

"Y being Indians are we so Conflicted about SEX?"

When I take my way 2 the streets of the Arabian Sea beaching chowpatty, marine drive, colaba, my view always stretches @ the couples who appear like "homing piegons". They're everywhere, these thieves of love, sitting under umberellas on a bike or if lucky, they're in parked cars, so all u can see is a silhouette of 2 heads leaning 2wards each other. And its not like they're doin smething raunchy either. They jst add 2 the landscape- usually a man standing up & a woman lying across his chest, her arms around him. I suddenly feel like I m a visitor 2 a Zoo & @ my time I m about 2 toss peanuts 2 the performing Monkeys.

"Y r we as Indians so conflicted about SEX?? Sex is everywhere-

its in d bill-boards u see on ur way 2 work;

its d cut of a backless blouse wid the shimmering bronzed shoulder popping outa it;

its d patting of ur pal on ur butts after a win over;

its in d young men on roads & buses who dnt hesitate 2 undress & rape u wid their eyes..

so basically its a testament 2 how much people r havin Sex every day, evry hour, every second? & yet we hide it away as much as possible, pretending it does not exist, pretending dat copulation is so far beneath us dat a pure person of "good ethics" may never ever think of creating other pure people. Since its everywhere, we feel no need 2 talk about it, we feel there is no need 2 discuss it in so called 'polite society'. & possibly there isnt. It doesn't xactly make for excellent conversation either @ my Home or @ a dinner table wid family friends & it remains in the "wink-wink nudge-nudge arena of DIRTY JOKES".

Its mandatory for an individual 2 think, talk about & actually have Sex wen u're SAFELY, HAPPILY MARRIED 2 a SAFE, HAPPY PERSON, but wat if u get knocked-up? Uh-Oh, then the looks of embarrassment abound.

I've seen the lecherous looks on the ways, & I think, "really, is there a PREGNANT CHIC FETISH I havent heard about!" & then I surfed the internet happening 2 find the apparent mass of 'PREGNANT WOMAN PORN' flashing on my TFT.. &...

I guess d logic is, if u've had sex wid 1 person, u shud b okay havin sex wid several, isnt it??

It was a suspended parallel universe which I wid all my oh-I-am-a-Gay- & -oh-I-m-liberated- & -oh-I-can-say-sex-widout-flinching had no part in.

I remember way back in degree college, wen my Business-Communication class faced a row of flats, every even days of tuesday,thursday & saturday(until a teacher intervened) der used 2 b commotion as all the boys gathered 2wards the large window & gazed up in the faraway house. The reason? A lady known for doing Yoga naked in her terrace just around the time. I cud never see her, xcept perhaps a faint shadow in her utkatasana pose in the distance but I was assured she was young, voluptuous & hot.

& wat about these other guys who line up in front of Salman Khans House on his Birthday or every weekend roll?? they swear 2 b STRAIGHT! but dats not the fact , they twist up for his 'andaaz' of coming out in his towel, sayin hello-tata & playin a male stripper role! & these men just wait for dat.

IS DIS WAT OUR PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE APPROACH 2 SEX IS BRINGING ABOUT?

then its a scary thought...!!