Oversized Sweatshirt

(An Excerpt)

It wasn’t really for me. My mum had bought it for my elder brother. But man did I fall for it! It’s color was so soft like blanched almonds..And as I tried it on, it felt like a warm hug. And I looked myself in the mirror and felt happy and it was silly because it was just a sweatshirt. I have a closet full of it in different shades and styles. But this just felt right. Though it was big. My mum asked to take it out and let my brother try it on. And I prayed it wasn't his size.

It wasn't.

Had I asked for anything else I would have got but then there wasn’t anything else I wanted more. Not even an extra chocolate cube in my milk at night. They were discussing to get a size bigger for him, when I squeamishly asked if I could keep it? Obviously mum reminded me of the many I already had and also that this was bigger. But I just kept pleading more and more and assured them that I’d grow into it. I guess it was the idea of me growing big that appealed to her the most because she conceded. For she always feels I’ll remain ‘ little’ and so she’s always scared for me. I know and also I wish knew why.

But the happy thing is I got to keep it. And that night and in many more nights to come I realized how perfect it was.

Like, one could play detective, pull up the hood and squish their eyes and meticulously look for mice steps on the carpet. It hides my protruding belly when I eat ice cream for the whole week still making me feel that I am in the perfect shape. And the Kangaroo pocket! Could it beeee any better! Because most of the time I really don’t know what to do with my hands. And this is like panacea.

Also it stores memories so well. Like the delectable curry from last night and chasni drops from the day before. Also once I hid the bunch of white roses I’d bought for my grandma under it. The hoods of the sweatshirts are multi-purpose. Catch hold of a trying-to-run-away friend, a keep house for eggs for my nemesis. And also the other day when I left it on the sofa Oly slept in it and I sat next to it rubbing his ears.

I also think it is the best kind of beach wear. It’s so reassuring to imagine a walk in the night by the sea on full moon nights without catching cold. Easy to collect shells and also the wind could fill it up syncing with the ebbs and flows of the sea. Wow.

It comes with a snack complimentary for the horror movies. (if you know what I mean ) It treasures the unattended tear rolling and records the heart’s wild knocking. It hugs me back when I need it and gives me space when I need. It sure does know me more than my journal.

I really do love my oversized sweatshirt.

:)

Whore.

Poetry you are such a whore.

I wanted you to be my lover and more,

My sun, my moon and stars, the seas and shores,

But it turns out you are just another whore.

Your rosy cheeks and scarlet lips,

That playful smile and curvy hips,

And O those inquisitive eyes lined beyond the tip,

You had me seduced in your first eyelash whip.

Alone as I walked in the crowded fairs, so conscious of my skin and unknown glares

Then you came out of nowhere, sliding your hand into mine without a care,

You pointed to me the colors I’d knowing missed, I guess I was scared,

And I saw the world through your wide grin and mischievous eyes.

And somehow it made sense to talk and laugh and see and live and cry.

So I worked up the courage to kiss you in that crowed street, yeah I did,

Though I feared you’d run away, still I dared.

I’ve never felt so lucky when you didn’t go and stood there, blushing not scared.

But then you did something strange,

The reason you never explain.

I wanted my friends to know you just as I do

But you hid, and they tried to make me let you go.

It was when I hit the rock bottom and lay helplessly on deep ocean bed, rotten,

You hugged me tight and cuddled me and we made love like spirits, forever free,

Suddenly I was not so bitter and sour and sinking, wasn’t a feeling I regretted anymore.

On lonely dark nights, when nothing dares to shine bright,

You silently stand by the door, your breath knocking it up and down,

And you ask me what I want you to be today, ‘Let's have dinner’ I say.

You serve me poison on beautifully laid plates, and I savor every bit of the taste.

There is no wine, I don’t need it anyway, when you are here, it’s already a…. Highway.

Then as you have to leave, I beg silently, ‘you are all I need’,

Instead I, I taunt ‘you are just another whore to me’,

And you raise an eye and I see the infinite minds you botch regularly,

And I pay, pay? Everything I ever had, you make it yours, furtively rob me.

Poetry,

 You are just another whore to me.