When a guy tells you he loves you…

when a guy tells you he loves you
he will never
mouth those words
he will beat about the bush
till you push
him to an edge
and then, blurt it out
stammering and stuttering
i think… i think i love you
but trust me
he has thought
and he has thought it through
talked to himself
a thousand times too
and mustered all the courage
to vaguely say it to you

when a guy tells you he loves you
he might talk about cricket
or the cold food
laugh at your lipstick selection
whining about his parking ticket
but he has looked it all up
research done
about lipsticks and books
and the perfect cologne for you
so, change, redo, reapply
when something, he says,
doesn’t look nice.

when a guy tells you he loves you
he will not take you home
at a family party
with his bunch
but he has had conversations in his head
introducing you to his mom
at a private Sunday lunch
not as his girlfriend, no…
he will say your name
with love and pride
and, look in his eyes
then you will see the love
you were waiting for
all you life.

when a guy tells you he loves you
he wouldn’t reply immediately
or call you back that often
he knows you read between the lines
he will frame an answer
reeking of denial
knowing that he will lose
at every single trial
don’t you miss me? naah!
aren’t you jealous? no way!
were you crying? psshht no!
he knows you will read them
and see through the lies
and send him a hug
a little love in disguise
and ruffle up his hair
and utter into his ears
i’m here sweetie

when a guy tells you he loves you
he will be his complete self
happy and ecstatic
weird and crazy
his passion on the tables
the fire for his quirks
without fear
you will stand by him
he will cry and shed a tear
in your company
understanding you will see him
and his love for little… simple things
just like every other human being

when a guy loves you…
he will fumble
toy with the words
look down on the ground
but he will not be unsure
he did everything
he wouldn’t usually do for no girl
he molded himself
into a different man
worked on his dream a little harder
and on his emotions a little better
he will become you friend
more than a lover
your one stop person
for now and forever
when the time comes
he will resort to ambiguity
and still talk about cricket and meat
when a guy loves you…
not his words
but his eyes will show through.



A night a day…

So, the dark scares you?
When the night falls slowly outside your window?
Or is it the closed spaces?
Locked doors and bolted windows?
When you can hear the wind whistle outside
And people on the streets can’t see you.

But we all live like that, don’t we?
Crying silently, under the sheets
Stuffing our faces in pillows to muffle our heart wrenching screams
Suffocating ourselves.
With our frail, fragile fingers
And meek thoughts.
We lie still,
On our lonely beds.
Eyes shut.
Seeing shapes in the dark.
Shapes darker than the night.
Breaths held still.
Lips shut tight.
Timid hearts.
Sailing through the night…
Every single night.
In torrential rains
And stormy seas
Compasses haywire
And the skies disappear
From over our heads.

But honey,
We were all 15 and in love.
In creased uniforms and oily ponytails.

And ever since then
We have lived through nights like these…
With known and unknown people.
In known and unknown beds.
With old and new thoughts
Dark and lit like the moon.
Nights with full moons.
Nights with new moons.

The early light of dawn lights up the horizon.
You are still fighting sleep.
Tossing and turning.
Hush now…
Lie still and breathe.
Save you struggle for the many more nights to come.
A night a day, Honey.


Quick lil’ update


I know I haven’t been very active here since a couple of months now. But I have been writing for the blog. So, now that I have some time on my hands, I decided to upload all the blogs I wrote in this hiatus to keep up with the 365 day blog challenge that I took up at the beginning of the year.

Trying a new layout of image quotes, all written by me under the name The Brick Lady. There will also be some usually text styled posts.

Let me know which style you guys like better and feel free to constructively criticize.

Also, should I do a QnA or something?

Signing off,

The Brick Lady.

If on a winter’s night, a traveler…

He wore yellow shoes.
That’s how I remember him.
No one wears yellow shoes.
But, he looked good in them.
A few days later, I met him in the cafe. I was unsure at first but I took a risk. I looked up and smiled. He did too. An uncertain one. Maybe the book in my hand caught his attention. Italo Calvino’s, ‘ If on a Winter’s Night, a Traveller’.
In retrospect, it was the book that bound us.
Later that very night, he told me that he had read the book. And loved it. We talked a lot. About other books and art and everything else that came to our minds. Till the moment we fell asleep, exhausted from all the fucking. In the morning, with our slurry words, heavy with sleep, he perused every inch of my skin. Cuts and creases. Marks and bruises. The wilderness from the night had settled down. The storm had ceased. There wasn’t any tugging or pulling. No screams. No nail marks. He cruised through me like a sailor on smooth seas. There was holding and cuddling instead. Moans. And feather touches. Afraid that something extra might break me.
After the coffee he, himself, brewed, we waited back in the bed. Bidding time. The right moment to leave. Set out on our respective paths.
My hand lay on this bare chest, over his scar. The morning sun arced through my ring creating a rainbow pattern on the ceiling. I saw him smile at those colored dots and then glance at my ring. The tan lines around my ring finger gave it away. Yet he didn’t ask me to take it off.
The guy with the yellow shoes and a still sore scar kissed my forehead for one last time and took off.
It was a winter’s night. We both, weary travellers. And just for a night, we found a place to lie down and have a good night’s sleep without any worries of the day.


conjure up a spell
they say you are a wizard
a magician
among us muggles
swish and flick
sleight of hands
tricked with words
lure girls
into your charm
eyes fixated
you steal hearts,
naive hearts
who see blurred lines
between lust and love
naive hearts
of girls
getting used to their bodies
brewing up a storm
in their calm seas
with your perfect potions
raging emotions
spill out through flushed eyes
pink lips
and a leap in the step
the ringmaster
in the eye of the storm
with your magic tricks
try calming down my wild… wild heart.