Cruising Alone

  Boy, you need gold coins and chains, To feel that silky touch. Honey, being with you meant My soul needed a retouch... You might like maple syrup, But I could never build anything with that softwood. It was like babysitting way into my adulthood... You think your presence made it feel like Niagara? Boy, it was drier than the Sahara. Who gave you the license to operate heavy machinery? You never deserved to be anywhere near this sanctuary. Asking women to "blow" you a kiss, When you are the one too "slow" to catch up, And all you are good for is a diss... You need to work because you don't know how real FORCE  works. You get high on your stupid   WARS — How would you ever know the language of the STARS ? Isn't it funny you were trying to teach  me  about fingers? When I can get myself to sing more with my  ladyfingers ...

  Call your wife. Call your mother. Tell them how you talk to women like me when no one's watching— But of course, I'm the Outspoken B tch*, and you, the Outstanding Gentleman in your suit and tie. But sure— I’d rather be outclass than be hung like sea bass on your trophy wall, smiling silent while you call me “crass.” Your twisted kinks. Your polished lies. You think I won’t roar? That I’ll tuck in my shadow just to keep your sin safe? I own my dark. Loud. Proud. You will not cage me with your guilt-laced chains. If you were so happy choosing her over me, Then go flirt with her . Not me. Don’t you dare come here with your diluted apologies and leftover lust. I’d rather be The villain in your story Than your sidepiece in silence. Because I remember— You were a playboy then , You’re still a playboy now , And every time you smile and say “We’re still friends”… God, I puke a little. You know your name. Don’t play lost boy. Don’t hide behind your “Good intentions.” I used to care...

  So, you say you have a sister, and now you have to take care of another? That you want to live up to your father's name, and you can't read about my pain, and nothing's the same? Did you forget that your father saw his own daughter in me... when we didn't even know if we were supposed to be? And I couldn't even look in my father's eyes... because I trusted a coward's lies... while you went about building his incomplete legacy... My father's head hung low because of your discrepancy. He saw his daughter cry for years... and aren't you the one who said you hated my tears? So go on, take your glass of whiskey and say cheers... because you only made me stronger than my fears. You might have broken me and left me for dead— but always remember: I am a father's daughter. What you broke, he built every day. Blamed himself for my crooked ways. He tried to shield me when no one was around... and you thought you could laugh at me while I was on the ground...

  Did you think I wanted your shriveled-up lemons? Do you honestly believe it’s that easy to cherish my melons? I’d rather guest star on Jimmy Fallon... Than be with a guy who’s just a petty felon. Maybe you thought you had me beat in tic-tac, But I can devour you like an evening snack. You think I’m some matinee show, And you’re the one who drops the curtain - it all fades to black? Boy, you only think in terms of your software stack, Thought you owned my rack—nah, just another hack. Love calling a woman a bitch? Try replacing the b with w , switch— Then maybe you'd see who's magical, And who’s just another shrew, tragical. Maybe you only know how to feel proud of your wooden leg… What made you believe I’d ever want you to fertilize my egg?

  I wanna be your temptress, Get you down on my mattress. You be the king, I'll be your empress. I already have a clear purpose, You can trace every curve and surface. I've got one mission for you— Are you built for the secret service? Let me take a bite of that apple, Can you make me pray without taking me to the chapel? They call me a wolf, but I will bear your saddle, Make me howl like the moon's lone disciple. Either play this like a boring game of Scrabble, Or get your armor on and be ready for a passionate battle.

  With a single whisper, your pole raises a tent, And you think you're Kal-El or his alter ego, Clark Kent? A guy who thought his stick did the trick, Who thinks he’s smouldering fire—nah, just a thin wick. Not even worthy of the douchey role in a chick flick. The only way you feel like a man is when you have a thick wad of cash, Otherwise, you’re tossed out like someone's Tuesday trash. You treat a woman like a simple accessory, But can't even last long in missionary. So here’s your legacy, stamped and set— A boneless nugget—soft, limp, and easy to forget.

  One fine day, tired of "always my way," I reached for comfort, or maybe just a craving. Picked up a spotted cucumber— Seemed harmless enough, so why not? But the moment I touched it, it pricked. Unwanted timber in my hands, Yet I let it be—what else could I do? Hunger led me to peel its layers, Only to find the filth it hid underneath. Worms writhing where freshness should be, Rot, disguised as something nourishing. I thought it was doing me a favor, But all it did was make me sick. Never knew comfort could leave such a taste— Bitter enough to spill my guts out. Next time, I’d rather reach for something rich, Something warm, indulgent, and worth my time. A smooth, chocolaty éclair— Rather than ever go for such a comfortable, unhealthy affair.

  So, you thought I would simply burn in rage While you quenched your passion with another... And when I spoke up against your ridiculous behavior, You dared to say— If it were not for your own sin, I’d have to deal with your brother. So, you could threaten me as much as you like, But when I matched you word for word, You dared to say I belong in a mental ward. Did you honestly think you can clip my wings, And I will vanish, extinct, like a flightless bird? You can't even handle your own dirty work, Always need one henchman or another To hide that smirk. Do you really believe you are a good guy ? Even Hiranyakashipu and Raavan Sent their sisters first, to burn and humiliate— And you can burn me all you want... Not every coal becomes a diamond in the rough. But honey, I was never just coal to begin with.

  Baby, I am no Snow White, I am hardly fairest of them all. You can try your best to take my kingdom, And have me take a fall. I am not afraid to crawl through a sewage pipe, Give and take 500 yards— And still rise to the top, No matter how much you fumble up with my dealt cards. You can drench that tasty treat, And act as if you had me beat. But if you try to poison me, I will spit it right back on your face— Because I walk my own road, Not a rat like you, Who tried to play me and then said I am stuck in a maze. You are no one's charming prince, Let everyone see you wince. The fact you said you'd rather be with a dumb one, That you are happy you dodged an effing c*nt... That you would rather climb someone tall, And that I am only a runt... If that's true, Go ahead and do a witch hunt. Because you can try— But I rise from ashes, No matter how much I am burnt.

I can't feel you anymore... I feel alive again—and so much more. Everyone can see the shift, How I smile and laugh once more. I lost my smile for a while... Dead eyes, and my soul paid the price. It drained me dry, took its toll— Yet you twisted it into some sick goal. You mocked my rants, Because all you cared about was the girl in hot pants. That motherly care you swore was rare— Yet you pick another, as if we’re all on some timeshare. I was on the floor... Now I rise, ready to stomp once more. When I burned with rage, You made vile remarks about my age— As if I were on a stage, As if I were meant to rot in a cage... And now you preach like you were always a sage. You want to preserve your unborn child... I hope she reads this all one day, A legacy of tears you can never hide. Not just for one, but for all— Who acted as if this witch deserved to be burnt. 

  Wandering through orchards, tasting the sun, Searching for the ripest berry—just for fun. You stroll alone in this earthly Eden, Yet blame every Eve for what was forbidden. Can you even find the way to that cherry, Hidden deep in the fruit of the loom? Or do you still believe only the serpent Knows the routes to diabolical bloom? Not every Eve is misguided by the deceitful viper, She dances to the tunes of her inner piper. She goes on her own quest, no need to impress, Finding the cherry to savor from that sacred chest.

  To the first woman I ever knew, Who carried me close, whose love stays true— My mother, my courage, my guiding star, Her strength and wisdom have brought me far. Then came a sister, a healer so bright, Her hands mend wounds, and her heart gives light. Through every struggle, through every win, She stands beside me—my closest kin. To the teachers who shaped my youthful mind, Urging my light to shine, unconfined. Aunts, cousins, friends and sisters-in-law, Each leaving wisdom that filled me with awe. NishaMadhulika, a culinary queen, Once unseen, now on every screen. Before the internet sang her praise, She ruled the kitchen in the golden days. To women of history, fierce and grand— Kiran Bedi’s courage, Jhansi’s stand. To heroines drawn from ink and lore, Wonder Woman, Hawkwoman, and many more. And Lily Singh, with humor and grace, Breaking barriers, carving space. Nidhi, Jaclyn, Seema Anand, too, Voices that teach, inspire, and renew. Pop stars who sing my spirit alive, Through t...

  As the hands struck two… Can you feel my hands on you? The power of the universe with just us two I am so into you. Who’s counting the minutes? Only we know what we brew. Even if the world fades to dark, We shine brighter in our spark. Your lips brush my nape, Undoing the shyness of my drapes. As your fingertips trace me, I melt like that slice of brie.

  Well, you’re lucky, I guess— That you never really got into me. Because what would’ve happened? I’m a wolf in sheep’s clothing. These words? They don’t touch me. But your ego? That could use a little decomposing. If I were part of the problem, Then where does that leave you? Fumbling through good women, Yet you wonder why you always end up so blue. Oh, yeah— I howl under the full moon’s bloom, Preying and hunting for lamb skin. Aren’t you glad you caught on To my masks so thin? You took one for the team, boy. To you, I was always a faraway dream. Yeah, yeah—go play the fool. Too bad, so sad—not into you.

  You may think you broke me with all the cruel words you spoke, but I have always been a Peacock. I leave those love-colored iridescent tokens everywhere I go. Everyone treasures them and makes them forever keepsakes, even if some of you would love to see me burn on stakes. And you may think you made me cry... but I am a Peacock—I thrive in those downpours... You went around lecturing me to focus on simple chores... while you were trying to grind for those plastic crores... But even the Goddess Lakshmi is often symbolized by a Peacock by her side... and even my name means Gold, and you dared to call me a gold digger... So, while you work in stealth, I am the source of never-ending wealth... Because I am a Peacock... A few have explicitly told me that would like to taste my muffins and cakes... But I am like those rare porcelain sets— not for folks like you with your ridiculous schemes and tests. And I am sure your binary brain would go "but Peacock is manly..." True... becau...

  You might crave your new woman’s touch, long for her embrace like a cherished clutch— but I have wanted to self-immolate because of your touch. Run around, claim you’ve won a jackpot , but it’s not rejection I fear— it’s your filthy gaze, your uninvited touch . You said you were being cruel to be kind? I’d love to press rewind. You begged for my love first, but now you chase another— just hunger, no soul. I know how it feels to be touched without permission . Yet, you—relentless—pressed me to submit, to erase my no as if it never existed. While you laughed, busy painting me as a rejected soul, I spent nights undoing every single touch . So go ahead, call me vile— but even after all that, I was good to you.

  So, you want to make me feel like a woman? Want to make it worth my while? Is that why you got that degree? Well, then you should know, That I am worth more than just a trophy. "But I am attracted to you" Why should I care? When I said I don’t crave you Or feel safe with you. The love I give is a treasure, And it is not for fleeting moments of pleasure... Why would I care if you only care for this body And try to buy me things that are way too gaudy... No matter how much you see me in your dreams Or want to taste that eternal stream... Go on and wonder about that cream, But I will always be a dream. I don’t need you to make me feel like a woman... I’d rather be a legend, untamed and uncommon.

  A boy came to me, asking— "Can you help me improve?" A boy who spent his drunken nights in the arms of a mistress, now claims he was always a good man. He asked me— "Why won’t you play my mother?" Why? Because your parents failed you and your brother? Because you need a woman to mop up your shame while you parade your masculinity and pretend you’ve changed? Well, people are filing FIRs for words filthier than yours. But what about you— the one who left my body wrecked and laughed as I fell? And now you say— "Let it be. Otherwise, who will buy you a lightsaber? Which man will claim you now?" Did that laughter and power disappear from your face now? When you said, "Get lost." When you hid behind your brother’s strength. When you ran, sneering— "Ah, is that why you’re causing trouble? Because you’re not getting money?" Wow. But sure. You are such an amazing man.

  You bow down to a woman, only to do her dirty, Preaching freedom while drowning in hypocrisy. You treat her right when your throat runs dry, Lust-driven hands, masked with a lover’s lie. Did you think she breathes for your vanity? You break her down, then mock her insanity. Does it thrill you, watching her question humanity, While you revel in the comfort of your profanity? You wear your sins like a crown of pride, Hiding behind walls where your cowardice resides. But doesn’t it burn when a woman plays you? Lucky for you, she’s not wielding swords— Or you’d beg for mercy before she slays you. Even Shiva had to bow to still Kali’s wrath— What makes you think you could do a woman dirty And she would go down easy? Me? I could inflict all the pain on you, Be it the trigger's pull or the dagger's kiss, But for now, I hope you die with a thousand cuts, And my words will be forever here— No ointment can heal the stings.

  Dancing under the moonlight, silky rose petals caressing my skin, seeing the reflection of sculpted form in the silver-glazed quartz. Engulfed in lavender smoke, there is only room for moans— not ugly cries. Who says I deserve love? I am Love. Fingers tracing all my curves, as if just learning to ride waves and surf. My lips, matching the shades of a rose, my eyes beaming bright— like pearly sea shells under the starry night. Who says I deserve love? I am Love. The silky tresses fall over my face, dew drops linger on my chin and lips, my torso covered in sacred oils, like a sculptor working hard to make his muse stand out. Who says I deserve love? I am Love.

  Where were these so-called boundaries when I was uncomfortable? When I mirrored your behaviour, suddenly I wasn’t normal? Oh no—seems like I "can't handle rejection"? Yeah, yeah, sure… Or maybe I stayed quiet so I wouldn’t create a scene? Tell me then, MR. GOOD CATCH — Why did you think it was alright to stalk my online profile, Inspecting who commented what? Were you not being a creepy little lurker ? But tell me—did you like the taste of your own medicine ? I guess not. When you can’t tolerate seeing your mother and sister suppressed, When you despise the toxic masculinity in a woman— Then why do you violate her vulnerability in the first place? Where did your laughter disappear when I jested, yaar? Why did you suddenly get so serious? Can’t take a simple joke? How sensitive of you. Maybe you’re overreacting… Maybe you should get a therapist yourself. Geez, have some control over your emotions, man. C’mon, give me a smile… You have such a pretty smile… I really liked ...

With that tiny trunk, you think you’re such a hunk, When in reality, you get passed around like junk. Did you honestly think those bags you carry hold Cheese Whiz? I had to throw away my sheets—what a mess that is. Do you feel proud of the fact you made me cry? Can you tell your in-laws, that you love making big girls cry? Why else would they jeopardize their daughter's life? "A girl who doesn't obey her father, how would she respect me?" Haha, says the one hosting booze parties— Umm, does your daddy know? Me? I learned that swagger from my father, And he stays with his woman, Not running like you to some clueless looker. You didn’t have the guts to face me, Tried to go behind my maker’s back— So don’t you dare come at me Or take my dad’s name in vain, Because you’re not even half the man. Maybe you need to impress with that bank balance, Because personality-wise, you’re an arse. Most people would choose a bear over men like you— Even a wild beast knows loyalty better...

  Labelling me as a failure, while you stand so fly— Did it not hurt when your father died, and you rushed to marry your sister off? But if you hurt me, does it matter? My father is alive, and I have no blood brothers. Oh, so you were just a kid? And who was I—Erin Brockovich? You felt so cool, asking me— "Have you not watched American Pie?" Now you brag about tasting continental sides, while calling me the one full of lies. Telling girls how they’re tight, how you’d want to do them when you're high as a kite. Did you really think you'd mess with me and I wouldn’t bite? "Are you asexual?" "Are you not finding someone else to sleep with?" Well, can you pass the phone to your mom? I’m sure she’s too tired, raising boys like you while your father left to have a heavenly fondue. Failure? No. That title belongs to the man too afraid to look me in the eye.