Friday, December 23, 2011

Christmas Love

Look out of your window,
Hear the bells ring, ting – a - ling- a- ling!
Let life enwrap you in a soothing veil,
As you sing and dance to the Christmas cheer as well!
Rum, fruit cake, chocolates and decorations bright,
Oh my, the world whole, from above, must be such a sight!
Spread the cheer, all you lovely people, mummy, daddy, boyfriend all alike,
I wish you’ll a fiery, peaceful Christmas psych!



So much Christmas love and cheer everyone! <3

Saturday, November 12, 2011

My First Translation


Life – The light and the darkness of the mornings,
And far away a sparkling star,
Lies, myriad unspoken bonds
Petals, which suddenly grows wings,
And the earth stoops to touch the soil
While they, the raindrops, seals the perfect kiss.
Rejoice, as a powerful pandemonium plays in the paddy fields,
An instance, it has a greenish girdle of life.
The tire- less, ever-moving stays still.
Life – speaks of the happiness of the abruptness.

***Courtesy – Shubho da’s Bengali poem.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

**

High up on the mountain, the hawk's eye view,
fills up the chest and stirs up the tension anew.

It keeps on pumping blood, but abhors emotions.
and craves for devotion.

But how stupid! God is dead!

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Holiday

My heart would be hung up , way up on the clothesline,
my body would cling to a slinky bikini,
oh baby, me and you, just us, now thats fine.

The wind prevails, sexy and southern, white rum smooth,
And while we bob our heads to the happy rhythm,
you carry me, fair, to the small, straw top room.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Love Trilogies. PART III. Again........you

You…you were a fire cracker and I the single matchstick. The flame, fire and the wretched desire. It brought me tumbling down, leaving scratches, bruises and the deepest gash which will never heal forever. I lie on the ground with my head and heart mangled. I want to run like the silent, invisible bout of wind touching you everywhere, leaving a red stone in your heart. A part of me in a part of you. It will burn deep with a glow if m happy and burst into a thousand shattered itsy bitsy pieces inside your heart. Then I’d stand and see the blood flow, your blood. Then, I’d like to taste it. Touch, it and embrace it in my womb n let in seep in deep. I want you, and noone else, never. Not even if you don’t want that. I don’t care any more.

Love Trilogies. PART II. she........and he.


She’s my best friend. He My lover. He says She has got eyes that could hypnotize an Arab so that he thinks himself to be an Eskimo. I never found them exceptionally beautiful though, or was I just jealous? Well I prefer the former option better. He laughs when I’m around but gleams when she is. He pulls me up close, sometimes wraps his arm around my tiny waist and keeps hanging in there. He knows I like it though. Sometimes it is nothing sexual. When he talks his eyes, words feel as if they bite at the lowest point of my brain where from my neck sprouts. He’s smart outspoken liberal yet chooses his words very carefully. I……hardly talk when he is around. Mostly I mouth my stuff in my mind and plan to tell him later but never happens. She talks like a sweet virgin spring just born out of a mountain creak. She’s got a big filled head too if you know what I mean. When they talk, converse, sometimes he forgets about me. Though I am the freaky popcorn here. He warms up just suddenly gleams cracks stupid jokes and pinches.( nothing from her side. She is as if a kitten and a cat, both, a mother and a baby.) I don’t feel bad but deluded cornered his shiny face furrows my brows. But he doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to know .He doesn’t realize. He’s fat, no? I never look at them straight I look straight into the gap between them. IT’S all black around me. It becomes very difficult to push through suddenly all the time and grasp the hands of the ticking clock tightly so that time can’t be any different. And then it all stops .She hurriedly takes a taxi. It whooshes past me. Surprisingly one door still open. I look around and he’s limped much further ahead too far away for me to call him back.

Love Trilogies. PART I. YOU........

SO hurt,it's hurting.............me,the absence of a certain human voice .........silently wrenching at my heart...purging...........retching,but not emoting...hold me..........will you?sickly sweet..human emotions..no vices..true colours showing now...the fake walls falling apart...funny we all strive for human perfection...but no-one seems to care for what they've left behind.

Twisters,whirlwinds....and eerieness far n wide..the chill...seers through within me..sending me on a trip divine..hopscotch,a dirty pavement the garbage bin and a white piece of chalk.make me dream of life swaying on a sodden hammock.


i remember you as ..you with me..greedy for love..s.c.sir,van gogh....rainy afternoons..the dishevelled look...the bedroom in a disarray...me and you..my losses..your smiles..my grievances..your hippo tee'..my tears..your guitar strings...my nights..your grub club specials..my diamond nosepin..and your ring..my dreams..were once you as a destiny.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

My - DELL Vostro 1014 Lappie

My last day, at Friday media office! Feels weird. it was a sanctuary, whilst my bad relationship days, a hideout against all the domestic blows and trivial not so peaceful oncomings. A matter of pride about my meager, 5 - 8 K salary - my first expensive buys, prolific taxi rides, high nosed looks to all the random people who could afford to roam about aimlessly in the oh so busy, office time mornings and spent nice early evenings out! HEHE...I will miss broken heartedly all of that and more. But most of all i will miss you lappie. My shiny, DELL Vostro lappie, which, i hated like i hate everyone when i first meet them, but then melted once i got to know its significance. Lappie, i bid adieu to you, here, and give this blog as an ode to you! You have embraced me when everyone left me alone, you gave me company and showered smiles when others grinned and sneered, you enlightened and educated while others demeaned. I love you, but our sojourn ends here. But know this, dear you, you will always hold a special place in my heart forever!  xoxoxoxo

Saturday, July 30, 2011

Does it scare you to realize you are common? Does it makes feel like an oaf. makes you want to run away in to your room and take a deep draw of your cigarette? It makes me scared though. You see all the money, the glam the glitter, the parties, the fancy dinners, the clothes, the cars, yes yes yes! All that money can buy! And let me tell you money can buy just a little bit more than sex, drugs and love, it can buy life! (HAHAHAHA!) And Gandhi wanted non violence! bullshit i say! Is your face all puckered up! Tucking up your leg deep inside your chair? Do it cause that is all you can do all you life! Because you are common! 

****

Its a round rain bow coloured circle. We hop in to it and skip out. We put our hands deep into the mesh and bring it out, bits and pieces of glue ish substance keeps stuck on it. mary went to play but she never came back. Guns and floo pwder and romans, They are not odd i tell no they are not. The click, click, click. i write till it goes wrong!

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

COLORS!

Life has many sorts of colors. Like blue, the colour of the little uniform of the girl scurrying down the sun shine flooded road, yellow like the greasy vomit sprayed near the grubby, dusty and extremely dirty drunken madman lying down on the road. Then there is red, like the thin, from the behind hot and smart looking married woman. The red of her bangles, 'loha' and 'pola' and 'shakha', evident signs of a newly married that i longingly lusted at. Then there is the black of the night which engulfs all your worries, anxiety and deep desires too. There is ofcourse, purple, pink, orange, green the ever effervescent green - ma says it makes your vision better, also i distinctly remember my college years i used walk down the Dhakuria lake road, sometimes hand in hand with someone sometimes alone, how greens seemed enticing, warmed me up, and looked ever welcoming. Then there is ash or a colour very similar to it. The colour of the metal roads, bridges, handles in buses and the window sills. I was used to staring at them till i could look no more. During long bus trips, sometimes while sulking with a cigarette at home. Colours they mean so much to me yet i cannot draw very well. Does it ascertain something?

Friday, June 10, 2011

Focus,Focus & Gone!

Just as you cant pull strings out of needles easily life doesnt work that easily. Oh. And i was about to die today though. Almost. But i have certainly discovered human beings, do not, do not and cannot adjust with ideal situations in life. They yearn, crave, beg, kill, borrow, steal, murder, rape, but eventually as they achieve something even minutely perfect, utopic, ideal in a person, situation or job ideal they scrape out of it with their  nails dug firmly into the rotten ground, pull, haul and wrench themselves out of the deal and announce that they have suddenly attained freedom! I am FREE, I am FREE! hell no! you are not. You are stuck you sick idiot! and you shall never be free! Understand? No. They, dont, wont and will never. Its like as Sarnath Banerjee said- gelusil is the omnipresent medicine for some, some blood, bone and lung, breast bearing creature will never understand life isnt about the ideal but the breath, your breath and how well you draw it.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

EVERY WEDNESDAY, I KILL PART II

......in the half, dim light she peered and wrinkled her brows searching for something intently, as if it was not her own house. Not her own home. Well, it was not her's, ever. She never belonged though. In her whole life, in her own life she had been a drifter, knowing only compliance and consequently silent regret. Sticking to thorough conformity, she had lost her free, lively spirit and her will to choose, opine and reject. She flowed sluggishly through the grim, sawdusty and bad odour of life with a know it all pernicious smile. Even when she was suffering, emotional or physical pain she endured it with a smile asif she saw it coming!
She plonked down on the shabby armchair, lighting the single, loner, tall lamp standing in the corner after several minutes of peering motivelessly into the dark. The murakami was now, on the cups of her roundish breasts, an inch away from her face and the rest of her body lying inertly in a l'shaped manner. Her eyes wooed the book  but her mind was thinking of something else! The dilemma the loss and the haplessness didnot matter to her. Not anymore. Suddenly like a transporting spell, an old distorted memory came back to her. Snowladen roads, hand in hand, the whiskey bottle swinging in his hand and her other held the single pristine yellow coloured rose, that she has just been gifted. It was there 6th date, but while she yearned to embellish every part of his body with sweat beads and hickies , he seemed like a happy patient man swinging her hand and embracing her wet lips every now and then. It was her, it seemed...................................

Saturday, April 23, 2011

EVERY WEDNESDAY, I KILL PART I

the ash fell in a disdainful way...she looked up into the stark yellow light of the cheap bulb hanging overhead. she swept the ash stains across the table n reached out again for the sodden coffee cup. three months pregnant. broke. hormones at a wreck. chocolate craving. almost roofless. a dark dark very dark room. a sparrow twittered at the window sill. cussing at it, she swept her arms across the room knifing the air consequently scaring it away. grubby dirty hair, white tee ,she swept her oily hand across her breast, leaving a mark. brows crossed ever so fiercely she peered into the newspaper, JOBS page. Looked as if she would kill it just by looking. "aaaarrggghh" - she threw away the page in utter disgust,  swept the back of her hand across her cracked lips and dragged her weary body across the room into a stinking bathroom.  Thumping her ass down on the toilet set she snatched a tattered 2003 paperback edition of Murakami - Norwegian wood from a broken wooden rack beside the fluffy pink woolen toilet seat cover. Left over touches from extravagant bygone days. Few seconds ticked by, she pushed the book back inside n completed her morning 'kriya' and almost in an involuntary way leapt out of the bathroom. She looked around in the half light...

Friday, April 22, 2011

what is love, lust and happiness? dont ask, i wont be able to tell you! i see hungry glassy empty hollow yet hopeful yet dead eyes, yellow vomit on the roadside corner, thrown away bits of rotten food, grubby hands scraping amongst those obscure bits and pieces! i see elbows up gentlemen, breasty lady ahoy! i see pushing, shoveling, grumbling, stealing, accusing, shouting, back stabbing, blaming, fumbling, whoring and cussing! The world is a brilliant blue green jean colour and it silently and peacefully goes round and round and round...........WE tumble grumble mumble to hell sordid enough to make flowers wither away. I wish we could live life the Dr. Seuss way! Up up Up and away!!!!



Sunday, April 3, 2011

My father!

he is a fine fellow,
oh how i wish i could say so,
The tree is so-a-so hollow,
no,no,no,it cant be that low...

A dreamer, a lover, an enthusiast, a naxalite, a horny intellectual, a bleeding heart forlorn worried frenzied father, just these adjectives? No, nO, much more. A painter, a poet, a sexist, an intelligent, gentle man. A lonely, broken monster.....who thrives on the blood of waste materials and on the pernicious waters from the crevasses of the dead caves located near the end of the world. A man who gave his everything for his family and got back nothing. A man who tried when Odysseus gave up on Ithaca, a man who fought so hard he could have made Spartacus hang his head in shame.
No man ever lost like that, a glorious loser. A loser who understands what it feels to achieve, win, grab success by it's groin and grind it into power, anarchy and stability. If i had enough balls ( sadly i have none) i would have made a museum on his name, and howled out to the world to let everybody know, how god like he is really, how horrible, heartless, dominating he is and how gentle, thoughtful and artistic he is. I wish him, silently, from my ivory tower, all the best and say, Father, "salute"! 

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Have you ever kissed a corpse? or been raped from the ass hole several times lovingly? Contradictory, right? juxtaposition, or should you say? i have been. Ask me how. and i'll fumble like a beautiful butterfly lost in the heavenly smelling dandelion field. He is an abuser, a saviour, a Santa Claus, a rapist, a father;perfect, ingenious, a boyfriend; responsible,ever cautiously stupendously ferociously correct! Have you ever felt your nose burning, that if you flatten the palm of your hands, along with the creamy air inside, the love would slip away, too!there are so many old houses in south kolkata still, fiercely hidden by Crappy tin posters of useless redundant roll shops, courier service counters and posthumously famous confectionery graves. They are sometimes cream colored, withered, dilapidated, but wreak of love and homeliness. They are funnily shaped and put up bad competition with the new straight dead hollow rude apartments of south kolkata. You steal a glance of the new,flat'ish trams, speedily chumming its way down the road, and you feel like heaving a sigh for the big, heavy dead ones. 
Oh i was talking of being fucked! No? No. It hurts and sometimes it doesn't. You care so much at times and then again understand if your feet is stuck in muck, you have to wait to get back home to wash it off properly. Well for now, i can blame my genes, but then again, "ke sa ra sa ra, whatever will be, will be, the future's not ours to see, ke sa ra sa ra".......    

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Stolen Love!


peaceout, please?


 I did not know life was going to be so sour, grubby gravy laden and uninspiring. Covered with cobwebs and dust topped, horrifying, heart breaking, misleading, uninteresting and pebbled with agony and despair. Everybody is looking somebody but then again you fool, nobody is looking out for anybody. When you call out to someone its seems like you’re weak, looks like you a confounded foolish mess of a blob, you’re not even human. It is true that you really lose your virginity, when you lose your virginity? I don’t feel so. Dirt, mud, grim, poverty, malnutrition and rape, we have conquered, haven’t we? I write in false hope of, futile aspiration and broken dreams of seeing a more heart – “full” world. No am not, despaired about the fury and furor of the disoriented world. I am just plainly disillusioned by the illusions of the world itself.   

Monday, January 10, 2011

me.we.me.we.me.we. who?

the focus shifts and everything blurs. Then clears again. Then a blurry overcast background again.I miss being lonely amidst people and miss people around when  i am alone. As a grow up i grow more perverted. Though not exactly so, if you know what i mean. There is a routine which i love. I love taking notes. Cant autofocus my memory. Vision blurs. Need help. I have been dumb, careless and acid. all of which i thought i was incapable of being. Not very happy with what happened though. The jumpy me has died her carcass sometimes shivers in the cold and the baby inside the me's womb cries for milk. But i cant help them. I ran away to a daffodil field. There i see yellow merry bugs and slugs with cat heads, my head spins for carnal satisfaction while my body shies away. the blood is gone.

Monday, January 3, 2011

***

speaking words of wisdom, let it be, let it be..............!