Friday, February 18, 2011

My Beloved Place

Presidency. Presidency College, Kolkata. College Street. Boi-para. The gate. The huge tree beside it. Main building. Lover’s lane. Avenue of shady walks and the great destination called the Tank, where something funny is sure to meet your eyes or atleast some chaapa flowers scattered, enticing you to pick them up. Our postgraduate dept. Every morning I rush like a lunatic for a class, either ending up for an empty class as or an already ongoing class. Sorry, sir … Madam, may I …

Shantiniketan. Admission test. Overheard some girls talking about interview at Presidency the very next day. Exam. Evening. Rushing back home. The department’s computer room. I knew I’ll not get through anyway. So, I may as well be a little cheeky. It’s a lost case. ACM,DB,PR,MA,SD. Intertextual questions, basic questions and my huge answers, referring back to the epics. Everyone listening to me. I laughed aloud suddenly. Things easened up. Clear vibes that I got through. I was leaving. As I shut the door behind, I heard a chorus – o ki bhalo,na? First love. Presidency.

My choice of leaving science and opting for love, literature, was justified in one word. Presi?!!

Our story began. Open friendships. Trying to know people. Trying to understand what and how ACM and DKB taught. Half things going over the head but then, the mesmerizing effect. I could feel my brains being stimulated and encouraged. This is it. This is the place to be. I belong here. A strange new world of intellectualism and ideas, everything that I felt but was refused earlier, came back and got grounds this time. I felt so connected, so intellectually supported and at home. I believed in me once again. Land of faith. I wasn’t alone here.

Presidency gave me a spine – to rise and fight back and come out from a relationship I had been suffering for 4 yrs. An abusive relationship that I had given my best to. Each and every rope I had tied fell loose and I broke, like a glass doll. Till December I suffered. The gap behind canteen -- hide, weep, insults. Presidency te giye to khub nongrami shikhecho. Chhi chhi. Agey koto lokkhi shanto chile. Akhon? @#$%^&*!$&((*^)#$ Presi hugged me with empty alleys, the Geography dept. balcony and a golden sunshine by which I promised I will kill myself. But the very next day, when I was supposed to leave this world, Presi showed me a reason to live, a little love. I lived. I gained.

The roads and walks and pathways around Presi knows my life almost. Each path has many stories, moments, events, incidents, scattered laughter and insane jokes. Friends. The best ones I have got in my entire life. As close as school buddies. A motherly girl and some lovely ladies who would want me as a sister. So much comfort they gave me. And naming me, Virgin Queen which I choose to take as compliment. Food, guys, trees, numerous dogs, garbage, sudden temples, libraries, derozio hall. And some awesome viva days! Some moments to remember.

Two years. Presidency has given me knowledge. I have always felt Presi is my saviour – intellectually, emotionally, even physically. I changed my look slightly here though no weight loss, sadly. And guys! Nice fan following in two years. Wow! Facebbok. Farmville. My beloved blog. October posts. And some of the best creations of my life till date. Dreams and wild conjectures. A half dreamt story … certain simple, ecstatic joys -- romantic, clean and pure.

Leaving Presidency.

It is one word now that has got mixed up with strong emotions of love, hope, dreams, illusions, brokenhearts, adda, stupidity, strong ideas, beliefs, efforts and sheer, sheer love – literature and the people around literature. Words and the lack of it. Chaos and eros.

Presi -- I’m yours.

Kontho

Dana mele ora amar riti
Dokhin hawa amar odhikar
Roktey amar boiche saat somudrer dheu
Jodi kache astey chao keu
To toiri theko uthal-pathal hawae
R neel akasher dakey.
Thakbo ami ranga gulmohore
Kono kalboishakhir unmadonae.
Thakbo tomar chokito sopne
Ba omogh kolponae.
Ami j nibir, ami j gohon
Boro prio, bhishon gopon.
Ami dhulo, ami nishaash
Ami jatona, ami asshash.
Ami unmadona, ami prottoy
Ami mostishko, ami hridoy.
Ami bayu, ami gaan
Ami kabbo, ami pran.
Ami prem, ami dhyan
Ami shanti, ami gyan.
Ami manoshee, ami dabi,
Shoto boddho duare jadu-chabi.
Ami chorom o porom
Ami lirlojja o shorom.
Ami deen, ami heen,
Ami kono shayerir nausheen.
Ami sadhona, ami sadhika,
Amie prem, kishori radhika.
Projapotir alo hoe jabo tomae ghirey
R ushno agun ese dogdhabe
Balir shwet shubhro anweshwon.
Prem
Mrittyu
Jeebon

Thursday, February 17, 2011

A Declaration

*

I have come into the world

To live, to laugh, to light

Up the days of some lives.

The dark cobwebs of remorse

Try to bog me down.

I refuse

To budge, to die out,

To be torn asunder.

I have only loved

And I am not ashamed.

**

It is not a fault to love

And make oneself happy.

Love is all we live for

And live by – a personal emotion.

What is it that belongs to you?

And is entirely yours?

What at all?

Only words and frames of signifiers

That expresses the deepest

Desires and intensities within.

***

I have seen the purity

Of lovely morning mists

And shy poinsettias blush.

And I have felt upon my skin

The odour of kindling passions

And intoxicated moonlights.

I have not erred

I have not sinned

I have just loved

The beauty and the bliss.

****

The rainbows may have left me

But I am drenched in its hue.

I cannot be angry and restless

Nor can I ever dislike you.

Prized, precarious and destined

You are, if at all, a piece of

My diamond dews and crystal affections.

*****

I long for a shower of rain

That could drench in watery blossom

And embrace me tightly in its

Comforts, in its caring manly bosom.

And pounce upon my dry lips

For a hungry mesmerized spell.

I have come to laugh, to live

And trouble your heart so well.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Rog

Basanto esechilo sedin
sei bhora ashwiner
kuashar orna jorano bhorey.
Jokhon upodrob chilo
tulo megher, neel akasher buke,
kichu dustu premer beejer moto.
Tukro tukro meghera tokhon
ghaser boney ful futiyechilo.
Tokhon hariye jawa ak nabik
hotat sondhan peyechilo
kono daruchini dwiper.
R basanto esechilo
chardikey praner plabon niye.
Aj ritu-chokre eseche bosonto,
gache gache praner sonchar,
jongla gachh fule matowara,
shudu osomoyer bosonto tuku
aj dhongshe porinoto,
kono deho-posharinir premer moto.
Shudhu kono rikto bhogno
murtir moto khov o kostey
tar ahoto obosthan.
Sei bosonto shudui ak
bhranto kolpona chilo.
Ak onamni meyer
hariye jawar upakkhan ....

jiggasa

Khub icche kore
ak bar
shudu ekti bar
khub kache jai
ak bar
shudu ekti bar
chokhe chokh rakhi
gole jak
charipash hotat
shudhu ak bar
nirnimesh
opolok sei dristi-te
khuji tar ortho
se ki keboli
nirmom ak upohash?
nisthur roktopat?
ekti bar khuji
tar chokhe
ekti bar kebol
shudhu ekti proshno
rakhi tar kache --
ki oporadh chilo amar
kano aj bondini ami
amari bhul badhone?