Midnight musings


Is there someone out there

Waiting for that cute little text in the middle of a rough day

That little bit of motivation

That sliver of sunshine

But whose phone screen remains dark and desolate

Just like mine?

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Mastani speaks


“I’d rather not be mentioned at all,
Than be a footnote in the history of your life
A footnote, in our story
A number
A point of reference meant solely for explanatory purposes
I’d rather be forgotten
Than be remembered as a gift of thanks
A commodity if you may
Because I was much, much more than that in your life
I was, at the very least, the mother of your child”

I was prompted to write this after watching the Hindi movie ‘Bajirao-Mastani’ and proceeding to read more on the complex relationship between the two where I discovered that historians know very little about Mastani and she was more or less a footnote

This completely depressed me.

This morning


There’s a subtle shift of air around everything, where everything is the same as it was before but infinitesimally different. There are little signs of a man occupying this space. Like your watch on my nightstand. The ever lingering scent of your cologne every time I step in to the bathroom and invading every little corner of the bedroom, on the sheets, even in my hair. A dress shirt crumpled in a corner which I absently pick up and pile in with the week’s laundry. My behaviour, my habits. How I seamlessly integrate your presence into my life.

I sit on the edge of the bed and run my thumb over and over along the metal strap of your watch. In the background I hear you taking a shower before work. I press the watch to my lips not even knowing why I’m doing that. It’s just that these tiny things, the small but sudden realisations, they make my heart swell.

You’re really here. Claiming your part in my life. Making it ours.

Moments


I love it when

You’re sleeping on your side turned away from me and I just have to hold you…

…so I first run my fingers along your back to see if I’ll disturb you by waking you…

…and you just reach over and pull my arm over your body…

…then you lace your fingers through mine and go on sleeping…

Comfort


I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, the early morning light throwing soft shards of light across the floor and my body. I run my hands through my tangled curls, closing my eyes instinctively in memory of you buried in them last night. I open my eyes again and lean against the counter. I’m stark naked. A small smile plays on my lips as I run my forefinger along my left shoulder where you’ve left a little pink circle beginning to turn dark and I feel a tiny twinge of pain that gives me goosebumps in a very good way. These marks leave a trail starting from the left side of my neck and fade closer to my breast and I caress the marks, lost in what we did to each other and how you kissed those marks you made afterwards while whispering how sorry you are if it hurts, leaving me stunned and teary. I felt like we were in a languid dream, that if we ever let go of this embrace we’d have to wake up to a world we both dislike. And that’s how you fell asleep. One leg tangled over my body, face buried in my chest as I stared at you, unable to sleep. Not because you were warm or heavy but because I couldn’t believe that you’d given me the whole world in one single night. And how you marked me yours. In your deep sleep you didn’t hear me tell you that I love the scars you gave me because you’ve claimed me, mind, body and soul and baby I wouldn’t have it any other way. In a world where both of us are weighed down by the daily grind of work and monotony, you are my reprieve. As I’m yours. Getting lost in each other is the only way to leave the world behind and forget everything. And I love you for that.

My eyes fly open as I feel you pull me into your chest from behind and kiss my earlobe. You’ve caught me fantasising, I giggle as we look at each other in the mirror, both of us without a stitch of clothing, comfortable in each other’s vulnerability and content with our bodies. Every bit of self consciousness and insecurity melted away last night as we gave everything we got to each other.

You smile sleepily and tell me you’d love to hear my fantasy as you carry me back to bed and I feel your need for me throbbing again as I give myself up completely to languid bliss.