My Miss Verma and a poem named KULTA

I had found a close ally in Jayshree and would always confide in her about my troubled relationship with Miss Verma. But the only support I got from her was her chants of “F*** her, f*** her” when I was in their room with both of them. Nonetheless, it was heartening to know that I had a compassionate listener.

So finally, I relented. Man, only I know what one has to go through to get laid. I took my Miss Verma to my home. My mum liked her and chatted with her for a while. It was all “Thank you, aunty, you are so kind, aunty” stuff that went on for a while. I think she was gaining confidence in me now that there was some kind of seriousness that I showed towards her. How can I say that? Well, the very next day, we went out for a movie and smooched all evening in the car but sex, I mean, going all the way was still a distant dream.

It was Holi and so, bhang and thandai were in full swing on the campus. We were all high on bhang. There were colours and water balloons floating all around. The people were giggling and laughing like crazy. No doubt, the effect of bhang had sunk in. Rashmi came to my room “Arrey mottu, agar main tujhse shaadi karungi tho sara jeevan safaaai hie kartein rahun gii” she picked up the broom and started cleaning my room.

“I mean, look at your room. It’s messy like a pig’s room.” she said in an agitated voice.

“Rashmi tu thodi safaaaaii eskey dimag ki bhi kardey, bada marketing bond banta phirta hei.” said Anil Goel who was lying on the other side of the room on his bed.

“Can you believe it? Look at the dust under this man’s bed.” Rashmi picked up the mattress and started dusting it like she was already my dutiful wife.

I was sloshed with bhang and started to see stars in the ceiling of my room. Soon, we were all alone in the room and she sat on the bed with me.

“Let’s get married Mottu. I am sure your folks like me.” she said in a faint voice. There was a bit of fear and apprehension in her tone. I am sure she was scared of getting rejected again.

I stroked her cheeks and kissed her. Soon, we were cuddling and groping on the bed. The passion was peaking and as I was about to unhook her bra strap, the unthinkable happened. I came prematurely. Oh boy, this was like watching a disaster movie. I mean, after all the effort, when the moment of truth arrived, I just couldn’t perform. I came in my underpants. I gave an embraced chuckle and tried to ignore the situation. Rashmi was fine with it. She never mumbled a word on the issue of my performance anxiety right at the last minute. I tried to salvage some male pride by snogging her with all my might and then in the heat of it, we collapsed into each other’s arms. I felt like Peanut John now with my performance anxiety. But yes, again, I can safely say that I still hadn’t slept with Rashmi Verma.

We managed to get back to our senses in a while. To divert her attention from the disastrous sex session that we just shared, I decided to recite a poem for her. “Chal yaar, I have written a beautiful poem today which has been inspired by you.” I said trying to get her distracted attention back.

“Tell, tell Mottu, what is it?” she enquired in an inquisitive tone.

“It’s called KULTA.” I said.

“Tho irshaad Mottu bol apni Kavita bol.” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

As if on cue, I cleared my throat and started reciting, “The poem is just for you, my love and it’s called KULTA.”



nagri ki ek pagaal kultaa

nari jaati ki reeth ko jisney ja palta

nahi dari woh apni bhookh se

ja giri apney mardh ki chati paar

bhoog mujhey jitna chaaye tu

mein jo chahey terey liye kar du.



nagri ki ek paagal kulta

karti apney nagaan sharir ki numaaish

puri karti apney yaarun ki farmaaish

saath puri karti apni khuaish



nagri ki ek paagal kultaa

nahi parva apni biraadri ya khaandaan ki

na apni ann ya baan ki

duniyaa dari ko wo chuudh chali

todh di parampara saari

karti apni bhookh puri

jo hei ek nari ke liye bada zaaroori



nagri ki ek pagaal kulta

apney kapdun ko wo phaadti

apney sharir ko wo taddhti

uski nagaanta hei ekdum paavan

khadi hei apney yaar key sammney

aajaa lutley mera tan badaan



nagri ki ek pagaal kluta

khadi hei chau rahey par

jo chahey tu merey saath kar

yeh sharir tho jhulas jaye ga

meri atmaa ke saath yeh nahi jayye ga

is sharir ka kya apmaan ya samman

atama hie tho hei manushyaa ki asli jaan



nagri ki ek pagaal kulta

daatun se nuuchti apey vastra

thodti apni chudiyaa

langti apney sharam ki mariyada



nagri ki ek pagaal kulta

nahi daar usey sambhoog se

wo pati mooksh apney yog se

kabhi duniyaa paar thuukti

kabi rahh girun par chillati

chodh di usney apni jati

tabh ja kar wo mooksh pati



nagri ki ek pagaal kulta

apney baalun ho wo kheechti

uski cheekh hawaa mein guunjti

karru duniyaa walun jo karna hei merey saath

nahi manu gi par mein tumhari baat



nagri ki ek pagaal kulta

phir ti har gali har chaurahey par

mujhey dekh kar ruk jati jab mein ussey mil jata do rahey par

tum hi tho smaajh saktey ho meri baat

kyon ki tumney bhi choodh diya duniya ka saath


nagri ki ek pagaal kulta

apni jaangun ko kas kas ke wo peethi

zor zor se thaahakey marti

jab chodh diya duniya ka saath

ab tho raab hei thaa mein ga mera haath



nagri ki ek pagaal kulta

ab kis baat ka hei mujhey daar

karna tha wo meiney kiya

nari jaati ka saara vish piya

raand raand keh key log mujhey pukaartey

merey upaar pathaar do chaar martey



nagri ki ek pagaal kulta

is sharir ko jis jis ne bhoga

unko bhi tho kabhi hisaab dena hoga

saab mujh par kyun vyaang kastey hein

is nagri mein  admiyon ke roop mein nar bhakshi bastein hein



nagri ki ek pagaal kulta

mein samjh saktaa uska dard

chahta mein banna uska mard

tum bhi ek din mujhey bhog kar chodh chalo ge

kyun karun mein tumhara vishwaas

mat aao tum merey paas


nagri ki ek pagaal kulta………………..


I finished the poem with a great flourish and with great elaan.

“It’s brilliant Mottuu, waah, waaah!” she said as she hugged me.

“You were the inspiration behind this couplet, my love.” I smiled and retorted.

“So you mean mien Kulta hun?”

“Nahi darling tu tho meri Chandramukhi hei.”

We both broke into laughter. My premature coming was all forgotten. With a hug and a kiss, we fell back into our bed and went to sleep.

All characters and events depicted in this story are entirely fictitious. Any similarity to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: