My black barbie


Anu is from  a country where co-existed,  fair, dark, wheatish, dusky and more  multi -skinned humans. Where all lived united. But the adverse truth is, that the fair girl always got the better guy. The fair skinned always got through the ramp auditions and the one with the fairer tone got to represent any team or group. A country where even shitty skincare would sell like hot cakes, If only it read “fairness”.Where moms  would try every other ancient recipes to cloak her baby from the time in her womb.

She is 21 now.

Laying on the couch in her living room, jumping channels on the television .She began, “that time, when I was in first grade ,when aunt Daisy had come home for winter vacation from you remember Dad?”. Dad asked, “when?”, reading his newspaper .

She continued, “And I used to pester you, to buy me a Barbie. And you felt it was a stupid toy for me to play with. And you had always denied. And back then, that was all I wanted. ”

“And when Daisy aunt had visited us .She  had asked me, So “tiny one, how many Barbie’s do you have ? Your cousin Christie is so obsessed with this Barbie fashion.  She has a dozen”And I looked up for you to see my puppy face. And you said that you found the toy stupid , And Aunt Daisy convinced you, saying girls of my age love Barbies.And that you should buy me one.”

“The following week ,Sunday  morning, I woke up to see a  pink box  on the table ,with a band of sunshine lighting up the plastic box from  behind ,ornamented with lace  beneath and inside stood some sexy legs. I held the box to see inside a dark skinned Barbie with curly black hair. It wore a purple and white floral dress. I hugged the box tight and ran to see you.. I smiled so hard ,held the Barbie up, to your face and said thanks.”

Her dad said,”Nice, that you remember so much”

“I ran to show it to everyone at home. And then I saw Christie, holding a huge  glossy pink box which said Princess in bold, shiny font. It held a fair, fancy Barbie dressed in a fabulous pink dress which had glitters .It had thick blond hair upto the  knee with pretty pink earrings and similar bracelet and a  grand crystal tiara.Garnished with a hot pair or stilettos.  I stopped, looked at the box in her hand and slowly showed her my box and said “dad got me this!”She didn’t stop to take a look, after all , none would give mine a second look if you owned that caked face fab-Barbie.  She said,
“Your dad got me this too. Ain’t this pretty. I love John uncle.

” My eyes drooped , my face as well. I tried hard not to react.With a million emotions wanting to make its way out of my eyelids,I walked. I walked fast. I stepped onto each step  with my barbie box held so tight on one hand,to my room and wept so hard.”

Anu said, ”You know, dad I actually thought a lot deeper ,If you got that for Christie because she was from a Continent more progressive ,or If you thought she deserved more. Or was It because, She was your sister’s daughter. But I would bog down to this one reason ,did Christie get the fair Barbie because she was fair and I got the darker one because of my skin tone.May be black barbies were actually hotter. But back then, at that moment,sorry my brain refused to think that way. All, that stayed in my mind from this incident through all these years has been:

Why did I get the black Barbie?.

Dad It’s not that I didn’t know you loved me more. But I felt so bad to be, differentiated. It really hurt.”

Anu just wanted him to know how she felt. It was not her intention to hurt him. She  just wanted him to know. And since then she has never differentiated people for the way they looked.She couldn’t. she wouldn’t.

Anu grabbed the newspaper in his hand,that he had stopped reading a while ago directing him to page 8 and pointed out to an article titled, “My black Barbie”.  She  left the television running and walked to her room. Her dad read the article that concluded, “This is the best lesson my Dad had taught me ,lesson on what “biases” meant.”

My glee rush is YOU!!

There are these scenes in your head ,enters in a flash and strikes ,giving you ‘The glee rush ‘. And when that happens you will be  able to actually visualize that moment and every single time that happens your soul travels to relive that moment. And one such moment is what I am about to share. My last day at school .

Hmmm.. This guy , he had a lot of affection for me and I held a lot of fondness for him, He was caring and innocent in every sense.I always knew he would turn out to be this charming, naive,handsome stud. And more than anyone in the world , I waited for him to grow.This superman of mine would always delight me with new skills and  even carry me to prove his strength and would urge me to do the same to defy mine. But I wouldn’t bother even trying and used to shoo him away.

And that was the last day at school , that year ,and everybody was getting each other teary. And this guy, who finds it just impossible to express. Obviously tried really hard to bury what he felt by just clinging onto me all day long. And I knew that,this guy ,could get my buckets filled with tears and I was eagerly dreading that.

When it was his turn to leave. He came up to me and asked ” Could you try carrying me today ?” “mmm.. “At least piggy back.., just try! ” I couldn’t deny that alluring face with innocence bleeding out through his dimples. And so I did. I walked bearing him behind my back. I did , a long way , in and out of classrooms  and corridors. And all he did was grin through this ride he longed. But my eyes had  multiple emotional montages that bore him flashing time and again. I expected to break down to fill  barrels and tanks. But I was gladder than him. I thought to myself ” May be this was  the way to gift each other goodbye ” I was over my guilt of having a favourite in class. Having a favourite student in class. I realized it was normal.I guess you have “those” few kids .

You have those moments and have created those memories not with all but only special souls with whom you bond.And the obvious student  who tops my list , my Superman ,my Sufi. My Sufiyan Khan.


And this one is for you my Sufi darling. I shared this special thing with you. And you’re irreplaceable. I miss you much and sorry but I have built a dream for you . I want you to be the same  charming Sufi but grow up to be,successful and assertive proving everybody wrong and me right ,by making me ,”your teacher”proud.

He left . But parts of him, yet retain.

The only time I had ever openly shared about my smallest of joys, biggest of dreams  and my darkest secrets that I fumble sharing ,both, both lie , within you. Both of my edges you’ve touched , felt and triggered  for it to explode. The skin I wanted to show people, proud and joyful about my dreams that had you and the skin I want to forget I have, the one I want to shed, has you too. Its amazing how even after multiple attempts to forget my way through the memory lane, I am only taken back to  the times I struggled pulling of these extreme shades in life. And things as small as the rain and the  pillow and  as huge as cookies and hickeys remind me of you and your brokenness , your voice and your temper , your love and  your want to escape . The chaos I am unable to sort is that,all this about you has dug it’s way through my bones and flesh and refuse to leave .Time and people help but cant change what we shared and the scars we bear. But I hope it leaves as soon as my soul leaves my body . I’ve been longing to shed these skins and surrender to love and my soul.

For Amy is within every woman..

Warm and cozy  I sat , ready to watch a Focus requisite , flashback, curiosity – loaded  movie.My obvious assumptions, it being a David Fincher movie . I’m somebody who enjoys serious , intense movies and love watching them alone . I was geared , with all my notions tuned for me to enjoy any good movie . My bad , I underestimated a Fincher movie to be just like any other good movie. Needless to say further , the movie was packed with surprises , keeping everyone curious and guessing, appropriate casting  ,gripping script,unfolding to wilder scenes.All of this  compiled to brew a competent screenplay. Honestly , giving credits to every  deserving aspect of the movie ,there is yet one specific strand that left me spell bound,  the million details the lead  character skillfully  depicted. ” The Amazing Amy ” (as in the movie ) has done her part extraordinarily well. Convincing and deceiving, leaving every beholder enchanted by her performance. If you haven’t watched the movie yet please do so , for it would make more sense here on ..

So this girl has lost her mind . I mean it, lost her mind in every sense.From isolating herself trying to abuse herself , to getting herself raped,to staging a play where in  she’s been killed and Tada! going back to her normal life and her man  for whom she had  planned all of this mess. But but but! She is in  love with this guy she ‘s married to.She ain’t a bad person either. She’s mysterious , stubborn , fast , intelligent, attractive and brave.  An overdose ,of all these qualities eat her up and her happiness , a little too much, and her craziness is all that remains.

Curious, what could have possibly been  processing in someone’s mind ,while working to the finest of details  to weave  this  it into  one exclusive character , a character , none would  forget  nor seen before. May be it’s only that ,no has ever ever SEEN, it YET.This  kept me thinking of how,every woman has this insanity wrapped up within her waiting  for it to explode and tries hard to cover up and play along for two reasons being, her loved one’s desires and the society’s norms . If  neither of this existed , a woman could  get wilder than Amy  . Every woman is insecure ,afraid ,possessive ,revengeful , strong ,loves unconditionally  and crazy. Its all about the balancing act she manages to pull off through her life for the people around her. If not for these reasons most women are capable of lot of destruction beyond man’s imagination.

How aggressive you could get with love and also be capable to  take revenge on the same person you loved?   Especially If he had tried abusing her , using her , got wasted with her or cheated on her. She can and  would prove how strong she is , especially when she is treated like a push over . She would teach anyone a lesson on what “PUSH ” could actually mean .The ways a girl could traumatize her ,just for the pleasure of seeing him being destroyed. A girl , a woman, is a fighter ,not the kinds by birth, but the world and her wounds molds her to  become one.She would totally want to pull every string , literally be every string to see him go down , hurt , broken and punished.That is when all her poise drops , shatters to reveal all of  that hiding behind her faux act.In reality , most times these vanish as thought clouds.. she would do none , to make sure she is labelled “normal” or “extraordinary” ,and not “a maniac “. For every now and then, few of these traits pop up and she tries to dab  sponge, in sweet sugar syrup and rub all of it without any trails . And would come out  as cool as a cucumber, having her act in place.


Out of many of those reasons,that you let me go..

I’m just  grateful and glad you did.

For I would’ve been no where close to sanity .

Broken, destroyed , hurt , even killed -Would’ve done this and more to have you . And would’ve done a little more to have you destroyed , wasted,miserable and hurt and finally, OWN you . If  you had used me or for the undeniable times you had cheated on me .If only, a little , just a little bit of  “Amy”  had rubbed off  on me .I would’ve burnt the world down.

I would’ve  loved you like no other ,Yea! But my insanity would’ve driven you insane and away .

Thanks for not letting me come back . For both me and you would’ve been punished…

Will you still love me ?

She woke up to see him stand by the window. His hands across the pane, his  slender fingers held satin curtains around , like royal robes. His shoulders so broad narrowed to his nape , where she had always loved burying her head. A drop of sweat rolled down from right there down to his waist. She watched his skin drink it in haste . Brown streaks of hair , each strand  stood in variant directions form her fingers being run through his mane . For this he longed every single night.His eyes that gleamed across the ocean, without batting an eye ,as though he hadn’t quenched his thirst ,shedding everything for this women, but hunted for more ,to sacrifice. His jaw that bore random stubble ,this he grew for she loved to own it.  She continued looking at his body’s silhouette that stood so perfect against the sun shining bright on him.She felt that the sun is the only one to possibly stand up against him.Because, purity  only belonged to the sun and then, him.Every part of his body looked sculpted to create the finest.She thought how too perfect he was ,for her alone to own. How blessed she was to attain him and his sacred soul.The soul ,that would merely like another, but worshiped her’s.This man,wanted by every woman in the country, stood there, in front of her, for her to lay eyes on, gaze and adore .He let her do this while the whole world waited, outside the gates for he wanted to watch his lady sleep.He swayed to look at her.She shut her eyes in pretence.

He knew her to her soul and back .Conscious , that she was gaping at his body. Conscious that she was another man’s and conscious that she was not his to own. He only needed to know, ” Will you still love me, when I’m no longer young and beautiful?”..


If you haven’t watched or read “The great Gatsby ” You wouldn’t understand the greatness of  him or the love he bore.

He had everything. But needed her. Reverence!

If only  you exist. This  one is for you Old sport !