a tramp's song

livin in a sandbox

chokin everyday

cryin out in despair

not knowin what to say.

bitin on a cracked lip

eyes pink with tears

livin in a sad box

wipin all my fears.

tellin me a cross tale

bunchin up my hair

shuttin out the sunlight

crinchin at the glare

livin in a broken well

buildin you in pasts

gatherin up the memories

waitin in the dusts.

How long does it take?

How long exactly does it take

To look at someone and get

Stuck at a point of no-return?

To forget where, when, how

And just for once,

Surrender,

To those eyes without a damn

Care for any pretensions,

awkward deliberations and facades.

Just a surrender into the soothening

cool waves of peace and intense

Joy that seeps inside a soul.

Can one hide what is linked

To your blood,your very existence?

Can one negate one's truth?

How long shall it take for him

To wake up from stabbing oblivions

And throw away his ghostly mask?

How long shall he risk to bear

Treading along broken glasses that

Bleeds us to reddened deaths?

O break the silence before we sink!

a sign

i want to wake up

on a lotus dawn

and ope my eyes

to gaze and fawn

upon a face

that would loom

above mine

and make me bloom

like a mystic ray

of sylvan light

or spread wings

in golden flight.

i could just look

smile and smile

paint a colour bridge

for a hundred mile

i still can feel on

my breath

intoxicating odour

of the magic wreath

of words and glances

unspelt glee-s

at meaningful gaps

prayers and pleas

call it belief

ignorance or fate

i am still on the wait

and would want

to know of you

if flames and hopes glow

on the other side too

Weeping Shadows

Strange feelings ...

Trackless thoughts

Enter my blocked head

Create a ruckus within.

Stop! I yell: No more!

But the heart is deaf,

Ever has been.

Thoughts that ruin me

inside, emerge from

nowhere and fill me

through and through.

In closed eyes I see

none but a faceless

shadow of you.

Clouds and watery eyes...

Hands reach out unknowingly

To receive a sad palm.

I forcefully close my eyes,

To block out the known

deep deep look that

enters my soul and

drinks me down with love

and empties me of all fear.

THOU SHALT NOT

TRESPASSERS SHALL BE PROSECUTED

I step back

And close my eyes

Only to find an embrace

A warm close embrace

girdling my soul like

an twirling creeper

of passion-flowers.

And I melt

All alone ...

I feel warm tears

running down my body

from the back of my neck

as if someone holds me in

a hug and cries uncontrollably.

Why do I feel thus, why?

I look out to the moonless sky

That returns an empty stare.

Strange thoughts fill up my mind.

And heaves the night air,

with sobbing breaths and

restless eyes, expressionless faces.

O do not ask what the heart

finds in such felt teary embraces.

morning blues

its a beautiful morning,
one that could kiss you,
in its golden sunlight,
cold air that would face you,
could soothe your
cramped mind
and remind you of dreams
misspelt and left behind.

you wish you could cry
atleast sob aloud
but your eyes remain dry,
like faint summer clouds.
you know you had loved,
you know you hadnt erred,
you're confused how you went wrong,
and what you had seen and heard.

the morning becomes prettier,
and as enchanting a seraphim,
that tears just might roll out,
and release the stream within.

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

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.

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?

aral

Bhaggish noishobdo ra chilo

noile ami kichu tei aral petam na

nijer bhul bhranti r bokami gulo

bishal akare dhora pore jeto.

Jeno kan pete shunchilam

onner premalap, ba gopon

kono alapcharita, gohon

kamatur goponiyo tae jano

onuprobesh kari, tader

birokti ghrina r dwesh

puriye dite pare amar shorir.

Bhaggish noishobdo ra chilo,

noile ami j bhul kokkhe dhuke

porechilam, sei paap amar khoma

kora jetona kichu tei.

Ami sei moithun drishyo theke

sorey esechi durey, bhito,

sontrosto, onutopto.

Hae hae hae; ki lojja!

Ami kano kichu shobdo

kichu kothar mayae joralam

ja amar noy, poro-kriyae

onuprobesh karini boner pakhi,

k bolechilo tokey upobone dhukte?

Bhaggish noishobdo ra chilo.

Amar kolponar noishobde

chilo neerob garho onubhuti,

atmo-somorpon o nishchinto nibirota,

sei olik kolponar noishobder

chadore nijer glani dheke aj

amar mukhor mugdhota polatok.

Roktakto ak molinota pore thak,

kono mrito akulotar sesh chinho.

Kagojer Sesh Golpo

Ak deshe chilo ak chotto kagojer putul. Ektu domrano tar kagojer chehara ta, ektu kochkano, jor hawae tar kagojer shada ga ektu muchre gache. Ta ki r kora, se kintu sei chotto meyeti roilo, kagojer putul. Nam? Dhora jak Kagji. Kagji tar baba ma k niye thakto. Tar baba mayer gaye koto kotha lekha, babbah! Koto aki buki, chhera fata, futow ache kichu, rong kichu ache, kichu dhue gache. Tar baba mayer gaye besir bhag dukkher golpo r onek chestar golpo. Kagji obak hoe shunto. Tar mone hoto se nijeo golpo banabe, sundor golpo, sopnomoy golpo, joyer golpo. Kagji tar choto shada sorir-tar opor ghosha daag gulo dekhto. Ogulow tar golpo. Tar etodiner kotha.

Kagji akta kagojer putul. Duti binuni, ekti frock porihita choto ak meye. Kagojer rong shada. Kintu ichher rong edik odik pore thake. Kichu taal patar sepaai ashey, chesta kore Kagji k sei ronge sajate. Kagjir boyei gache. Se ki taal-patar sepia chae? Se chae ronger jadukori, sopner rongin alpona aka thakbe tar shada gae. Choto meye, tar melai sokh. Akbar se ak taaler sepaai-r theke rong niyechilo kintu eesh ki baje rong. Se chesta koreo makhte pareni se rong. Kagji jane sepaai ra tar moton noy. Ora onno rokom.

Kagjir deshe akdin mela boshlo. Onek boro mela. Se mela prochur anando, prochur jinish. Desh bidesh theke balloon elo, kagojer aro putulera elo, basher khelna elo, matir putul elo, kacher putulo elo. Elo manusher dol sei somosto khelna, putul, baanshi r tupir poshra niye. Tader koto rokom khela. Keu keu ghurio dekhalo. Kagoj noy kintu omni patla plastic kamon akashe orey. Kagji kintu akashe urte parbe na. se hariye jabe j. Besi hawa dilei se jabe urey, kono dewale byatha pabe, chhirey jabe, moyla hoe jabe. Kagji boro adurey. Se oto kosto soibe kamon kore? Na na. Kagji tai nijeke halka akta dheele bedhe rekheche. Oi tar niyom, tar mot, tar adorsho. Oi badhon khulle se bheshe jabe niyotir kalo andhare. Ak domka hawae oi polka kagojer manush tuku sesh. Kagji shudu obak hoe dakhe r shekhe.

Oi manusher dole Kagji dekhlo ak rong beronger manush. Lokey takey bole shong. Kagji obak chokhe takey dekhte thake. Kia k odbhut manush se. Sara dehey tar ronger chhota, kintu thik kamon jeno. Thik sobar moton noy. Se ektu kachh theke dekhtei jae bepar khana ki? Jei na takey dekha, hotat takey shong dile soriye. Kagji bhari dukkhu pele. Tarpor sorey giye bhable e ki? Dukkho pelam kano? Na na. E ki? Se dekhle tar samne kotto rong. Ektu khani se makhle thote. Achha thak. Se chole jae okhan theke.

Ghurte ghurte thik abar Kagji dekhe samne sei shong. Ebar r shong takey tarae na. Se dekhate thake nana rokom khela. Rongin sopno buney chole se hawae. Sobai tali dae r Kagji kamon odbhut ak ghore chole jae. Ojantei. Tar kamon mone hotey thake ei sob tar jonno. Ei mela, ei etto jinish, ei shong, shonger sob khela, shonger rong, shonger dhong, melar gondho sob tar. Se opekkha kore. Kiser, kano, se jane na. Se rong makhte thake. Notun notun ronge se seje othey praae. Sobai bole kano eto saj? Kiser sopno bunish tui? Ato rong makhchis kano tui kagojer putul hoe? Kagji kichu bole na. Se bujhi peyeche kichur sondhan. Hijibiji kuchikuchi lekhae bhore othey tar binuni duti. Sari sari sopner shuto diye jaal bune se mayar chador jorae. Prithibi rongin hoe othey r Kagji bhison lojja pae, anmone. Sob-e to tar, se jane.

Tarpor akdin ak sundor gari ashe. Rajkumari nabey sei tomtom theke. Shong tar songey chole jae. Se j rajkumarir shong. Eto sobai jane. Desh shuddhu lok. Ei mela Rajkumarir jonne. Eto rong, eto anando, sobi tar upolokkhe. Shong to tari nijer manush. Putul gulow sei rajkumarir rope dishe hara. Sobai k mugdho kore tara biday nae.

Ki korbe Kagji ebar? Kadbe? Na na na na. Ekdom na. Kagojer putulder to kadte nei. R kadbei ba kano se? Tar kiser dukkho? Se to nije nijei akta bishal boro mitthye sopner shuto chhoracchilo. Ebar sei shuto tei nije jorie morche. Ta te dukkher ki ache? Eto tar prappo saja. Tar shasti. Kagojer putul hoe tar atokhani dhrishto ta? Tar to koto bhaggo j desher manush takey chhirey fele daeni. Chotto akta kagojer meye tar abar koto sokh. Ish, ato rong se mekhechilo? Ato saj kano? Ki sob kilbiley lekha tar gaye? Chii chhi. Laj nei, shorom nei, behaya kagojer putul kothakar. Chhhi!!! Sobi mitthye mitthye mitthye mitthye. Sob tar dosh. Chhhi!!! Shong ki bhablo takey? Rong mekhe chola ak nongra kagojer putul? Jar dam nei, nam nei, ostitto nei. Shong kebol rogor dekheche r bhebeche ki boka, ki orthoheen unmad hote pare akti samanno kagojer putul. Putulero kina sesh obdi … hahahahaha … chhi chhi chhi chhi chhi …

Lojja lage Kagjir boddo. Khub lojja lage. E ki koreche se? Kano koreche se? Jokhon sara duniyar lok takey akrokom shuniyeche se karo kothae biswas koreni. Tar nijero onekbar mone hoeche jano esob tar jonne noy, tobuo se kon oshomo sahoshe bhor kore nijeke sajiyeche? Rong mekheche? Nijeke amon koreo keu opoman kore bujhi? Atotao niche namae keu nijeke? Holoi ba se kagojer meye. Tai bole nijer atto-sonman bole ki kichui nei Kagjir? Chhi !!!!

Ebar upay? Se to akta upay bar kora chai. Tar badhon dawa dheeler shuto chhirey Kagji nijeke hawae bhasiye dilo. K bole hawa kagojer shotru? Hawar moton porom bondhu r ache bujhi? Ei to aj hawa tei muktir sondhan pelo se. Chotto kagojer putulti ak jor domka hawae bheshe chollo. Urte urte urte se opore uthte laglo. Praae megher kachakachi. Se megher rong kalo.

Hotat bristi namlo. Kagji bhije galo. Pore galo matite. R golte laglo boro boro bristir fotae. Kagoj gole rokto berote thaklo. Boite laglo se rokto paharer gaa beye. Jhornar jole mishe galo ta. Golapi borno dharon korlo se jol. Garo hote laglo se borno. Kagojer gayeo rokto thake bujhi?

Kagji puro goley gache. Se r nei.

Magic Lamp

A hope

A flame

Burning gold

On a tiny lamp ablaze

The cold wind came

and blew it out

Still did it amaze

The flame

died out

And burst forth again

By no obvious logic

Maybe thats why

they call it

Hope

The love-lamp of magic.

A Note

Looking back again and again

at past moments and magic spells,

wondering if they shall ever be

back and I would have those sudden

seconds of pure ecstasy ever again.

A strange fluttering sensation

within a restless heart

and a feeling of loss somewhere.

I had found a world of unknown

joys and happiness like a dream.

A story weaved by destiny

A dream in words covered in silence.

A dance of imaginations melted into

a reality and fusion of felt similarities,

basking under the same sunshine

looking at the same tiara of the night

from either ends of the rainbow bridge

mysterious smiles,people wondering,trackless...

O I can live by the memories

they make me so happy and I shine

like a little star on the dark wish of night.

Be happy, wherever you are,

whatever you do, and find soulful peace.

May all and all and all your dreams come true.

I thank you for every little drop

of magic that has come in a life

torn, tattered and wounded cruelly.

Thanks for showing that dreams are not dead

and fairy tales do exist.

The world is not a bad place and some emotions

and feelings are as genuine as

i dont know

maybe, love?!

The Symbolic Realm

Would you want to walk into
a tender moment
when the earliest hours
of a promising dawn
peep through the dark curtains
of night and show the delicate
skin of her eyelids
lined with shy sleep?

Would you want to wake up
on a regular morning
full of drab jobs ahead,
to the sunrays playing on her face?
You shade her skin with a hand
that protects and caresses,
as she snuggles up a bit more,
all untidy, messy yet innocent.

Would you want to live through a dusty
day full of travel and tiresome troubles
and crisscross work tables conjoined
at the hips -- pending and reserved?
Yet interwoven with shades of a
laughter and surprised, enveloped messages
across a cup of coffee or sunday cooking together.

Would you hope to share her thrills at
a consumerist evening, window-shopping?
Or would you want to put a rose
in her hand on her stressed days
and surrender in her silly comforts
when you have had a stupid problem?

Would you love to lick an icecream
and walk with her through roads
choked with traffic jam, giving a damn
to the spaceless inferno around,
when you have her and your own feet
to walk on, and this heavily junk city.

Would you close your eyes and drench
yourself in the first monsoon rain
or a sudden shower that would tell
stories of a childhood, or a college memory
or some distant forgotten melodies?
Would you close your eyes and remember
the first love of your life or an old poem?
Interlocked fingers, old stories, drops of rain on faces

Would you desire to light a candle
and float it in a glass bowl,
water decked with rose petals?
A soft music plays in your heart
as you hold her close, too close
and a slow dance
shadows shivering on the walls...

Would you want a walk
under the silver moonlight,
hand in hand and a content whispering
of wet grass under your feet, about
a completeness found under the sylvan skies?

Its all here
in this beautiful life.
Come
Unlock
the chest of mysteries.

Seed

I fold my legs

dig my chin into my knees

and close my fists tight.

Shut my eyes

close my ears

reduce myself

into a foetus

and wish I was never born

being undone thus.

Half weeping

half hoping

half awake

half sleeping

unnerved

scared

fearing a loss

deep inside.

I stretch out my arms

and want to belong

want to be loved

and cared for

a kiss

a tender touch

a breath of assurance.

Where do I find a shelter

for my hurt being?

Cut into pieces and scattered

over the dust and burnt.

I can only weep

and turn like a wheel

from love to despair

from dreams to loss

and be left alone

to put back everything

like a jigsaw puzzle.

I want to go back

into the dark amniotic sac

and the cerebral presence

the umbilical cord

my trace into the womb.

Better still

the zygotic meosis stopped

and me only a possibility.

An idea of a daughter.

Undo me

O undo me, mother!

connections

The mind sets on its own journey

when the heart trembles softly

at the soft buds of blossoms white.

Passions about to bloom at dawn.

Closed eyes see, hear and feel

words, dialogues and essences

that have not any foundings in

reality. Dismissed as idle dreams

they float on heavy air and fade.

Only to come back sometime later

as reality in a sweetly surprised

world of truths and tactile existence.

I wonder how that happens.

Interconnection of thoughts...

moulded into actions and existences...

a connection that cannot be whisked away

as another idle thought or wishful thinking.

Being together on another level

not merely imaginary but perhaps telepathic.

How much has unconscious connections unlocked?

Not merely the heart but a chunk of mind.

What would we call it? what can it be called?

Wonder if you too can feel my bliss

and breath in the air around you.

Wonder if I can listen to your heartbeat

by touching my own pulse ....

The Name

A moment

strikes

like blue lightning

and freezes

in an instant

the throbbing mind

the restless heart

the anxious thoughts

and unquiet silences

framed upon panes of

memories and yearnings.

Fingers had touched

on wet sand

the Name.

The air has breathed

the words many times

with its soulful existence.

The flowers have shaken

their yellow petals

to trace the Name

etched on the soft soil.

A timeless ageless act

rehearsed over and over again.

Over mountains and oceans

rivers and terrains

of green or brown

or ash

the mind has run like

wild beasts

or supersonic sound,

looking for the Name

one has lost or fears to lose.

And then

the moment

that was awaited

with trembling perfection

arrives

and freezes

like

eternity.

Eyes do not meet.

Breathing halts.

Only an invisible

string binds something

somewhere in a deep embrace.

Never to untie again

Not in this life.

Nameless

Beyond closed lids in intimate darkness

A face sketches itself in light

Crayons of moments past

Fills its unmasked expressions

Of unrepressed joy and surrender

Submission to the feelings frothing

underneath an exterior carefully made-up.

Drowning in layers of silk and

chocolatey butter bliss and kiss

of unnamed smiles drenched with

purple mystery and lavender breaths,

I ask myself questions that have

no answers or perhaps lack the answerer.

Words and the power of words.

Faith and the quest of belief.

Trust and the strength of enamour.

The brown darkness engulfs all senses

and shows me deep inside

the silver arc yearning completion.