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Please click on an article or scroll downwards to read this month's Fiction column:
A Boy Taught me How to Kiss a Girl
By Ifti Nasim
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Playing Cricket was praying
Five times at once.
Every evening after
We all gather in the school ground
Like a different sets of animals
Around the watering hole
In Serengeti.
Some playing Hockey
Some Football
Some doing nothing, reading, watching
Some predators.
We both were sweating rather drenching.
We jump in the swimming pool.
My fear of water and drowning came over me.
He knew.
He held my arm and waste and made me swim.
Coming back home at dusk
He looked around.
Under a mango tree
He held my face in his palms
And put his lips on mine.
Fragrance of freshly dropped rain on hot earth
Surged in my palate
I was tasting cloud.
" That's how you kiss a girl."
He whispered in my ear.
 Ifti Nasim
Chicago
5/13/09
IFTI NASIM is an Urdu-language gay poet who lives and works in Chicago, where he was inducted in 1996 into the Chicago Gay and Lesbian Hall of Fame. He is the author of two collections of Urdu poems and has received both an honorary doctorate from the World Peace Academy and the R.N. Tagore Award.
A Mother’s Treasures
By Rungeen Singh
I know, my child, I know. You have to try out your wings
And make a place for yourself in your profession.
Yes, yes, I know you have to go, but can’t you wait a bit?
No?Oh! All right, you can go but first just give me time
To collect the essence of your entity which as memories
Will later be valuable companions of my loneliness…
Let me select the essentials, my treasure, just for myself.
First…I must keep with me, your first cry, heralding
Your entry into my world, illuminating it with magic…
And then… the tender softness when as a baby
You held my finger with baffling strength
In reality, you were holding my heart in your grip
How I wished that you would never loosen your hold
But alas! This traitor Time does not stay still.
You stopped being my creeper and I let you grow…
Next to gather is the naughty chuckle of your childhood
Plus the bubbling giggles of your adolescence
Interspersed with shouts of unadulterated laughter
That I was blessed to be able to hear
The hilarity I must recapture to enliven my waning years.
And… soon the sinful howl of laughter was replaced
By the mature humor of your confident youth today
I will preserve it also to resound in my very being…
Also just let me keep the photograph of each expression
Of every nuance you ever felt. The yearnings and pining
The tears, the despair, the depressions and frustrations
Enough for the abundant albums of my memory…
The main winning trophies of your triumphs of values
I will frame to decorate the four walls of my existence
All this is a part of you that no one can take away
It is mine forever. Now your life is your own,
And later you will belong to your wife, so I have to let go...
But till now you are only mine and every moment
Of your growth and development is close to my soul.
I have the copyright which I will not share with anyone.
Whatever you are till now, is there in my heart and soul
You are a part of us, your parents. This no one can take away. Remember. We love you and will always love you.
As you foray into the world, we will be there for you.
So now you can go, my heartbeat, as I have preserved every breath of your existence that is so linked with mine
And now they are my treasures which will enlighten
Each moment I have to spend without you
I will always carry in my heart, my darling child
This valuable collection of many treasures
That will enrich my existence right till I die. I am sure
They will make the rest of my life, truly worthwhile.
The Rose and the Dewdrop
By Rungeen Singh
The naughty twinkling handsome dewdrop
Craned to kiss the pretty blushing petal
Who curled away coyly, hiding behind the emerald sepal…
The dewdrop smiled with a glittering glow
Caressing her satin face with a tender, feathery kiss
The elated fragile rose, glowed with exquisitely delicious bliss
Her blossoming youth, crimson with shy love,
Deliriously happy surged above
She was elated and swayed to the music of the enchanted breeze
She pirouetted, she pouted at the delighted trees
Who danced to her rhythm and shouted
“You darling beautiful wondrous rose!
Deep in flaming passion’s throes
Enjoy each moment supremely while destiny is still kind”
But the one who could not bear, the jealous thorn
Deliberately pierced the throbbing soul of the happy bloom
As even in the pristine, pure, glistening morn
It spewed cruel poison that brought on gloom
Over the lilting celebrations all the evil prickly thorn did
Was just a demonic deliberate push to make the dewdrop roll over,
And the helpless dewdrop succumbed ending his momentary lifespan
Leaving the distraught shocked petal helplessly seething with grief
No. She could not live without her love
She reeled with shock, her eyes which once used to shine
Now dimmed without him and her heart refused to beat
And she gave in and fell noiselessly without a complaint
Like a pale dead sigh to be united with her devoted beloved
Ironically for ever and ever,
Now, thank God, ecstatically always together…
Rungeen Singh has been a writer since 1992 and an English teacher since 1972. She has written English story books and poems for children, short stories, poems and articles for various Magazines & Newspapers. Rungeen is a Life member of Association for Writers and Illustrators for Children. She lives in India. You may write to her at rungeen.singh@gmail.com
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in these columns are solely those of the writers and do not necessarily represent those of the editor/publisher.
All Material © Copyright KavitaChhibber.com and respective authors
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