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My Wife

  ****

  By Hiranya Borah

  Copyright 2016 Hiranya Borah

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  Preface

  Many of my close friends complain about me that, what I preach, I am not a man of that kind. Hearing those critism, I was feeling something wrong inside me. However, one day morning, few days back, I became free from all guilty feelings of duplicity.

  On that morning, I got a Whatshup message from a young mother who does not have any respect for our culture nor any respect for the elders, who never address an elderly person with due respect, always refer teachers and senior relatives by name gave a preaching on teaching of our children. I do not know if she has ever taught anything about our culture and heritage to her children. I am restrained myself from reproducing it in verbatim what it says. Thanks to her to give me the relief from carrying a guilty feeling of a Hypocrite for rest of my life!!!!

  But in the contrast what I am saying above, I am going to present you something about my bleeding heart. I do not know these are deserved to be categorized as poetic expression or not, but I am presenting for your consumption.

  I am thankful to all beautiful ladies whom I love as mom, sister, daughters and most importantly the girlfriends (not necessarily all of them reciprocated) for their inspiring words and actions which are the mainstay of my life. I am always thankful to my wife who has given me three wonderful children and stayed with me for the last thirty plus years.

  In my poems, I want to emphasize that, first love may not be the lady whom one kisses for the first time or with whom one has slept for the first time in life. A wife is, normally, not the first love of her husband, nor the first lady to be kissed by her husband nor with whom her husband had slept for the first time. Only a very few lucky wives can claim to be the first love of her husband and first for other actions of a male and female.

  Thanks to my readers and friends for their constant support to write something usual and unusual. I love you all.

  Change of Priorities

  After a typhoon,

  Having a trail of destruction,

  Having a resounding silence,

  My mind became as cool as a cucumber!

  How long mind can be kept confined;

  In a narrow steel jacket of,

  Dos and Do nots!

  It is a mind of living human,

  Not a rule book;

  Written in 1882,

  Amended however many a times;

  To govern a state;

  Dependant or a state after its Independence!!

  Government can change priorities;

  What is important today;

  Tomorrow, may be just a bull shit!

  So, do we can;

  Change the priorities of life;

  May bring luck and happiness!

  But we are wary to change our priorities;

  Always we are insecure about our own future!

  I reallocated my priorities;

  I am feeling good!!!!

  Are you with me????

  Difficult to Forget

  Encircling me like an octopus in her arms;

  Asked me whether I loved someone in my life!

  When I said, yes I did,

  She asked me whether she is my wife!

  When I said a no to her question,

  She asked me why!

  I told her, I do not know,

  Somehow it did not materialize!

  Do you still remember her;

  She asked me kissing on my bosom!

  I told her, it is difficult to forget her;

  That is why, I surrendered to your arms!!!!!!!

  Is it your wife whom you kissed first in your life?

  She asked me!

  When I said a no to her question,

  She asked me why!

  I told her,

  I did not meet her as a teenager!

  Do you still remember her;

  She asked me kissing on my bosom once again!

  I told her, it is difficult to forget her;

  That is why, I surrendered to your arms!!!!!!!

  Is it your wife with whom you slept first?

  When I said a no to her question,

  She asked me why!

  I told her, my wife did not rape me

  When I was mere nineteen!

  Do you still remember her;

  She asked me kissing on my bosom!

  I told her, still I hate her;

  That is why, I surrendered to your arms,

  To forget about that long bitter night!!!!!!!

  In Memory of you, my First Love

  I envy the poet;

  Who has the guts to tell the world;

  I loved a girl, whom I ditched;

  Or who had ditched me!

  Whenever I see your smiling face,

  With your husband and your family;

  I cannot tell the world that I envy your husband;

  Like the poet who can tell the world,

  That he is sharpening his pen;

  To write a poem on your obituary;

  Or on the obituary of your husband!!

  I can drink a gallon of wine;

  To forget the memory of the past;

  Sleeping together with you on a floor of concrete;

  In the absence of a cot.

  I can drink gallons of beers,

  To forget the hot kisses on your lips

  With empty stomach for days together.

  But I cannot write a poem on you;

  The moment I think of you;

  I forget the right words for the right feeling

  Of my bleeding heart!!!!

  ‘Can you remember those days,

  When I loved you more than myself!’

  I want to write this in a poetic verse,

  I envy the poet who can write that;

  In a poetic cacophony!!!

  I always envy the poet,

  Who can make others cry;

  Showcasing his bleeding heart!

  Whenever I want to write something about the winter night;

  When you tried to warmth my shivering body with your tight embrace;

  Everyone sees vulgarity in it!

  I envy the poet, when he expresses his vulgar moves;

  In a poetic innocence!

  Now I want to write something in memory of you, my first love;

  Can you help me

  To write a line on your beauty;

  Or on your innocence,

  Or on your honesty;

  Or on your betrayal

  In a poetic verse!!!!!!!

  First Kiss

  First kiss on the lips of a damsel,

  Cannot be erased

  By wiping out your lips by thousand times;

  Stain remains for ever!

  I was nineteen,

  She was eighteen;

  It was dark in the corridor;

  I knew she would not mind for a kiss on her wet lips!

  It smelt salty,

  Tasted rosy;

  Oh, I am sorry;

  I am still faltering in my words!

  Her wet lips tasted salty,

  They looked like rose petals;

  We locked our lips for few minutes!

  She was not my lover;

  She loved me;

  I did not love her!

  I am sorry dear,

  You gave me the first taste of the lips of a damsel;

  But you are not my lover!!!!!

 
Killing the Virginity

  Me sure, all will laugh;

  If I say, I killed my virginity;

  To an elderly girl,

  Before I crossed the barrier of teen!

  They will correct my English to write;

  I lost my virginity to a girl,

  Who arrived this world much before me;

  When I was a free bird of nineteen!

  I was on a holiday trip;

  To a village of knowns;

  A girl of twenty-five,

  Known to me for years;

  Became unknown to me;

  Squeezed me everything out on that fateful night.

  She was not my first love;

  Nor she was whom I kissed first;

  She was known to me for years;

  Became unknown to me on that night;

  She killed my virginity forever!

  I never loved her;

  If role reversed;

  I would have been put behind the bar;

  For raping a young girl by a youth of twenty-five!

  I must confess;

  I did not like the first half of the night;

  But liked the action

  From the second half of the night;

  For the next three nights.

  From the next vacation;

  She was my lone attraction;

  For going to her village;

  Till her marriage to a distant place!

  She was my first lady,

  With whom I slept;

  Whom I never loved!!!!

  She is not My First

  It is my candid submission to God;

  She is not my first lover;

  She is not my first lady,

  Whom I kissed on her lips!

  Even she is not the first lady,

  With whom I slept!

  I cannot recall,

  How many lovers I had;

  I cannot recall;

  How many ladies I kissed;

  I cannot recall,

  With how many ladies,

  I had slept!

  Please give her the power;

  To be the last lady,

  Whom I want to kiss,

  Whom I want to love;

  With whom I want to sleep;

  Rest of my life;

  Because she happened to be my wife;

  Who had sacrificed everything for me;

  Her body, mind and love for someone else!!!!!

  The author is a Government servant and a man of vivid experiences derived from his official postings across the country, travels across India and numerous visits outside India. He is presently placed at New Delhi.

  His earlier publications are:

  1.Random Thoughts through a Coloured Prism

  2. Dilemma of a Young Mind

  3. Funny Statistics and Serious Statisticians

  4. Melody of Fragrance

  5. Akhadya

  6. Few Cities through the Lens of Hiranya Borah

  7. Guilt: Gift of Winter Spring

  8. Beautiful Ghost

  9. Great Fighters: Grace of God

  10. All Blurred

  11. Putting kids to sleep

  12.How to become unpopular

  13. Soulmates

  14. My grumpy Face

  15. Love and Worries

  16. Discussion of own Birth: A Taboo

  17. Interview

  18. Indecent Love Affairs

  19. My Fair Lady

  20.Waiting time

  21. Two Stories

  22. My Mother: Dashami Borah

  23. Parineeta

  24. Manorama

  25. Unwanted

  26. First Attempt

  27. A father

  28. The Portrait

  29. Snapped Thread

  30. Only He Knows

  31. The Stupid Mother

  32. The Same Old Story

  33. The Old Scoundrel

  34. Third Attempt

  35. Some of my First Days and First Nights

  36. Snubbed Twice

  37. Have You Met the God

  38. Frequent Flier

  39. Messiah

  40. Forgive and Forget

  41. To Win or to lose

  42. Call Girl

  43. Beyond Blood Relation

  44. Lady with a Black Car

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