Warm-Haveli-Aurora-The Moon Took Me Away From You-I Feel Like A Cat Sometimes-Mental Breakdowns Are Pretty-Lunar-Tail

By Fatima Hussein

I am in the air-conditioned seat Freezing 

But I am warm. Still. 

But I am warm. Still. 

Dust smells like memory 

I feel nauseous 

I was never good at handling the heat Still remembering 

The songs I heard when I loved you 

One was How to Teleport 

So appropriate 

So cold 

Like you 

Gold 

Gold was the color 

Of your compliments Orange were my cheeks 

I could not cover them 

You saw right through me Snow 

Snow was the texture of my seat 

Had to touch it 

You have that effect 

10:36 

It was 10:36 

When you said 

Do not be obsessed 

How could I not? 

You exist 

And it is fun to think 

Yellow were your compliments 

Kind sans 

Kind sans is boring, right? 

Good thing you are not 

Just when you are giving your speeches 

Even your disinterest 

Is worth a hand on cheek 

Regardless 

XI 

You are eleven 

Symmetrical 

Not in the face 

But your legs How you stood tall 

It was not intimidating 

Just commanding 

You do not even need to do that 

But that is just me 

Silence 

Your silence 

Was all I ever wanted 

So I could hear your heartbeat 

Intense 

Your stare is intense 

But I am not afraid 

Should I be? 

Bitter 

You are bitter 

And I do not even like coffee that much 

P.s: I still do 

Love you. For your information. 

Mental Breakdowns Are Pretty 

White room in mind 

Being pushed from behind 

Eyes are burning at every sight Somewhere in a Neptunian dreamland 

Lies a circus with an alien face 

With grace and a dress made of lace 

She tries to be forgotten like their millions 

worth bookshelf 

But they clung to her like glue on skin 

Come on little girl don't be too shy is what they told her 

She found herself with big eyes looking 

back at her 

Their nails the length of her hair 

Their faces like something out of a 

Picasso painting 

They spun her around 

Lifted her on their shoulders 

And she was left with makeup on her white dress 

She wanted to scream but all she could do 

was groan 

Everything was green and bright. She just wanted to be outside, but she ended up rolling the dice. And out of nowhere 

Under the black sky 

She exploded into confetti 

And they said at least she went out as 

colorful as she can 

I Feel Like a Cat Sometimes 

I feel like a cat sometimes, it is great. I freeze and shiver like a king in leather, unsure of my tether, my shivers I call them glitches, more digital, more current, less cat, less social suicide. I hate water, how it sticks and warps, creates droplets of godforsaken liquid matter, pretty but not enough, poetic but boring, wet like melted ice cream, minus all the deliciousness and gagging, now you are wondering do you ever get thirsty? I do, I just do not like thinking about it too much. 

I like fish, omega-3, but oranges too? Still not full cat, the transformation is going to take some time, sometimes I think the 

devil is walking inside my mind, making me think creatively but concerningly, I remain bold but cautious like someone is going to invade my gorgeous sanity, I actually smell everything, every particle, even gone remains in my nostrils, I can smell the strawberries, the perfumes, the zoos, everything in between, the worst part: I can smell it, all of it, my phantosmia and synesthesia blending like two halves of the same soul. 

Here is the sad part, when everyone is asleep, I can still see, I see trees, their shadows big and curly, I can see gothic cathedrals, their spires sharp like the tip of a compass, I can see into windows, couples fighting, families eating, all that boring jazz, sometimes I wish for some light, that can come and take me away from crowds, anyways, back to me, I am 

feline, petite, cute, but with a bite, with a glitch and a paw that slits. 

Lunar 

And other words that sound nice like you 

treat, mine 

gold, rush 

blue, wine 

stupid crush 

fake blood 

try mush 

cacophony, chocolates 

dragon teeth 

still waters run deep elegance in cursive 

coquette lexicon 

mirror of glitter 

fin 

nonsensicality velvet gibberish 

may flowers run down your lips forever 

Tail 

Stop wagging 

we got in therapy 

since our relationship was toxic 

there is a reason therapy did not exist neither do dinosaurs anymore 

What is love if not you in your glasses in the early morning on our grey couch reading your book drinking your coffee 

as you forget them I like you depressed 

as your eyes get those bags I like you shake your head 

laughing like it has been a while 

you fix your posture 

you do not notice the leaning forward not when you are with me 

do I need the question marks 

really aesthetically 

baby please 

yes 

Lock me between your breaths you can use your locket 

you know how much I like 

mirrors as a metaphorical device 

but I like your fancy thready apartment 

more 

it is actually mercury 

dripping in jealousy 

yes, I am looking at you so are we like to be or not 

Haveli: Chapter 1, Cars, Chocolates, Flowers, Mike Is Not Important 

I am rich. Really rich, got ten mansions, each filled with cars chocolates flowers. I am literally omniscient. Do not be scared, I am not that shallow, well, maybe a little. I have my beautiful wife to testify against that, would not you? 

I pulled her closer, she knew she belonged to me, she loved me, she would never fall for anyone else, she would not dare, would you darling? 

She is a dancer, a high-end one, that is how she started, I never stopped her, it is what she loves, besides me, she is quite a graceful dancer, my wife, she moves like she is floating through time drowned in water, sometimes I think she actually is and she might just be. 

She is quite grateful, I taught her, a North Indian native, English, I taught her to say yes in three languages in three days. Helped her through dark times, I paid for everything, I spoiled her, I protected her from men all of them, but I never let her sense that, not even with her amazing sixth sense, but she could smell it, I being the amazing husband I am, I distracted her with goodnight kisses, not much, but enough to turn her attention to globe amaranths, there there now do not go falling in love with me, I am taken, even if I 

was not I would not be interested, I would not be into anyone else anyway, I am a Leo. 

Enter Mike, I hate that man, I am gritting my teeth, right now, you should see me, anyhow, I did not know then what he would turn out to be. 

I think he noticed her beauty, that is only mine to see, but I allowed him, he was paying quite a fortune for his work to be marketed. Now where were we? Ah, her beauty, how could I forget? That clean porcelain skin, her freshly scented wrists, her lexicon, that she learned from me, but beautified with her accent, her love for justice, how she argued with me for hours, quoting laws, her voice, smooth as silk and to be less cliché, because I am not lazy, is made up of colorful vocal strings, you can play like you would a harp, so beautiful, my 

wife. 

Aurora, hi. He kissed the back of her hand, French style, that rat. Actually scratch what I said he did not just notice her beauty, he worshiped it, he made art with it, bad art, but still art, my wife smiled politely, but I knew she was rolling her eyes internally at his eagerness, little did I know she was actually charmed by this, this idiot? 

The idiot got to see my wife perform, in her golden embroidered twenty lakh rupees anarkali. He was delighted, the idiot, which is an understatement, he probably cried himself to sleep, anyhow I slept in peace knowing he would only do it away from her. She would be turned off if she knew anyway, little did I know and there we go again, she thought his sensitivity was confidence. I love my wife, but she can be 

a little stupid sometimes. 

They say ignorance is a bliss, man I wish, the mystery was killing me, what I did not know was hurting me, because what I did not know I imagined and I was spot on. My wife loved that man. He was similar to me, after all, cocky, creative, humble, complicated and in love with her. 

He wanted to talk to her and he did for hours, she told him everything apparently, he was not a stranger anymore, to her. I was erupting for her and she? She was melting for him. Melting. 

When I found out I almost killed him with 

my rifle. She convinced me not to. She propositioned he leave Delhi while she makes me more money with her dancing, work extra hours, recruit other dancers. 

Who am I to say no to my wife? Who I was more angry at, I almost killed her with him. 

How dare you? How dare you come back? Oh, she was angry, when the apple of her eye came back for her secretly, but and wait for it, she pulls him closer by the shirt, how dare you not come back sooner? I hate you. Tears ran down her eyes. 

They ran. They actually ran, even after the danger they both were in. Well, it was years later, when the sky was more blue and I was starting to fall more for my beautiful wife, but I did not forget. 

I caught them, on camera, those idiots forgot, I own the ground they walk on, but they actually did not care, which is why the time was perfect for a little Russian roulette. He was making her laugh, my 

wife? She never laughed with me? 

Do not you dare look at him. You want to play you do it with me. My beautiful wife, grew teeth, I bet they would sound painful scratching glass, you were never omniscient. You are just a tool, she gritted with her gun pointed at me, hands shaking. Leave and never come back. We do not have time for your funny games. 

I am quite impressed I must say. 

You are beautiful, I just knew what he breathed as I left, that duffer, I was almost disappointed. 

And they lived happily ever after... 

Yeah. As. If. You forgot some villains are meant to have the last laugh, they are 

meant to richly laugh while they blow their wives and her male mistress's heads off. 

I gave them time, sweet time in their home sweet home, but when the time came, I, I went not with weapons but with everything, everything she loved. 

I drove my Bugatti at the parking of their embarrassingly small and cozy apartment. The bonnet, actually I meant trunk, but bonnet sounds better, anyhow, it was filled, with a few of her favorite things, her books, love letters she wrote for me before her vows, not knowing they are going to come in handy, her favorite chocolates, in my hand a bouquet that said screw the past. 

Too much, no? Well, I do not care what you think. 

She touched my face, she actually touched my face, as I was on my knees, I knew she had a soft spot for me, she actually did, never mind what she says next, I do not love you, she was not being cruel, evident in the tear on her cheek, just honest. 

So, he is your husband now? I asked shooting daggers, no no, it was right the tip of the dagger pierced deeply in the 

black of his eyes. In spirit yes, she smiled, holding his hand, that idiot, you could have just said he actually was, just lie, I thought, but as big of a liar as she was, she was proud of this idiot. 

Begrudgingly, I took a hint. Wrote poetry about it. A changed man. A distant but desired man. The ladies loved me. She did 

not care. There was a time she would have been jealous, even in pretense. She would 

have done it for me. 

She was happy. Actually happy. Finally. It just was not with me. 

I give up, she gave up, she told Mike, forgot that was his actual name, came back to me, my wife came back to me, with another of her deals, you might have me, but it is his name on my lips, she was cold, pulling away the second I tried to hug her. 

It was like this every day, Mike this, Mike that, she laughed remembering him, that man, other days, she cried remembering him, she kept her promise still, his name, I did not doubt it, she might be a liar, but one with the word of a man. 

It was my turn to get exhausted, get lost, I told her packing her stuff, do not contact 

me, do not look for me, do not even think about me just, just be happy okay? She moved closer, to hug me, I resisted at first, pride eating at me, then melted, whose pride, I thought, she literally started jumping? I laughed despite myself, then pushed her, not violently, for the first time, she might have thought it, among other things she thought it about. I pushed her towards him. 

She left. 

But then ran back. 

To me. 

To give me a kiss on the cheek? That is it. 

Leave before I never let go of you, we do not have to stay married either. Yeah and 

Aurora? Say hi to him from me. 

Haveli: Chapter Two, Throw Me Away 

He died, my soul died. 

He fell off a balcony, I did not scream, did not cry, I could not, I, I gripped the edge, I promised him I would not grieve, I would celebrate him, us, cliché, but that is us, 

gross. 

Then there was him, sighs, I did not have time for drama, I am sure he is a changed man, but still. 

Come, he texted me one morning. 

Never mind. 

I went to his hotel in Dubai it was more like one of his mansions. I went in, smelling the opium. He was sitting there in his suit and bowtie, looking good, yes he is still good-looking to me. 

Why? 

I needed to see you, check on you, he touched my face with grace he never quite showed me before. 

I melted, I am okay, I sighed, he did not believe it. 

Prove it, and I kissed him on the cheek. 

I broke down. 

Why did you do this to me Mike? Why? How am I going to survive this grave? 

Shh that is why I called you. 

Somehow he was the only with the power to get the truth out, he was my husband after all, not in spirit though, never in spirit. 

He had enough of my grief and in a jealous fit, he built me a time machine? 

A time machine? 

Take it, he threw the vintage heart- medalled keys at me. 

I grabbed them swiftly, his aim was still perfect so was I at receiving. 

But I did not want it, not the key, not the machine, not even him but did I need 

them? Yes, but was I going to be weak and 

heartless? No. 

I do not want this, I scoffed. 

What do you mean? He looked baffled. 

I am sorry, I cried, and thank you thank you so much, I hugged him, but I already died a hundred times I do not think I can handle dying for real in front of him like he did me. 

I pulled away, pulled a bat and destroyed it 

away. 

How could you do that? Do not you think he would have taken the time machine a thousand times if anything as much as hurt you? 

I know, a tear fell down. 

Finally. 

Aurora: I Am Okay, Epilogue 

Leave my hand 

I cannot keep one foot in your life while living mine 

see, I used to wonder if I was beautiful you would not let me dare to wonder all this wealth, 

counts to nothing, 

he cherishes me like I am made of violets and he plays she loves me, she loves me 

not 

his electric guitar painting mirrors 

in electric blue lights 

I do not think I have ever been more in love 

his grey sweater my tango dress 

it does not get more verite 

I am tired 

I am famished 

I am fuming 

we do not have a sense of time 

just an analogue that tells us our mood you called me an item-girl 

a song, a filler to ease boredoms 

but I was not camouflaging as decoration I was not an interlude 

I was the writer who wrote you 

here is the important part, 

since you always loved to have the last word 

you did not notice me blowing you a kiss as I left 

The Moon Took Me Away From You: Other Perspectives, the love story of Aurora and her husband 

Her red ghungroos were jealous of her foot he kissed them after all 

her earrings were complex little complexes they were close 

there was no third guy 

there never was 

the air between them suffocated 

they were a cliché 

so close, yet so far 

she wore golden bracelets for him only 

so he would play with them 

make a spectacle 

her lipstick just decoration 

to mark on his cheek 

they were so close 

the clouds rained so they would hug 

just to feel the heat 

I'm Tired, I'm Bored, I'm Nostalgicated, I'm Nauseous, Because I Vomited All My Feelings Out 

Pressure 

You 

Stop 

One 

Hand 

Molly 

Burnout 

Hand-gun 

Submitted 

Panic-attack 

Because 

You 

Fur 

Forgive 

Cold Autoimmune Hemolytic Anemia: Heat Up for Three Minutes 

Cooking 

My favorite 

Noodles with fish 

Fancy 

But not really 

The color of my blush 

Intensified at the heat 

Just forgot a good line It always happens 

Watching a Salman Khan movie 

Laughing at his auto-tune 

Auto-tune is not bad 

Just need to use it right 

The tv glitches 

I just hit it 

My brother leaves 

Wearing his kandoora 

And sometimes I feel empty 

Like it was my mother leaving me 

As a kid 

When I have the house all for myself I pretend I am home alone 

But there are no thieves 

Just books 

And sometimes ghosts 

I invented a new language In fifteen minutes 

It was easy 

Thanks to my brother 

My other brother 

I could never beat my brother at chess, 

Not something to confess 

My other-other brother 

That is it 

There are no more

By Fatima Hussein