Monday, September 16, 2013

the low life..

if i wanted to write...i wud write about ur silhouette amidst the sundry ..i would pen down how everyday you live like a ghost in your own world.. how u walk n never leave a foot print.. how you have forgotten to sing..if I wanted to write..i would write about how many times you were raped.. how many times you bled and how often you sin..
But I am not here to write about you, i am here to feel the flame on my fingers. I am here to describe your peels of laughter, your glittering vogue and your favorite Dior.. I am here to remind everything mortal about you – the grace and the glory, the power and the dictatorship ….

If I were to talk to you, I would ask you to leave – pack up your bags, close your eyes and leave.. Leave before anyone can stop you, leave before I can remind you of your chores .. I would ask you to sing – shut your door and hum…shout out your anger and not stop until your tongue bleeds… sing before they can silence your soul, sing before the whole world turn deaf…
But I am not here to talk to you..i am here to  ask you questions, mostly the unanswered ones.. I am here to ask you about the day you were born…I am here to ask you about the day you made love…

If I were here to hold you, I would pin you to the bed and melt you down..all your glitz and glamour and your virginity – I would take them all down and make them look like bundles of thread…I would take you out in the rains and admire your tears, I would choke you and not let you speak…
But I am here to hug you instead. I am here to correct your speech and lecture on the correct use of grammar and punctuations and maybe gift you an Emily Bronte .. I am here to dress you up, I am here to walk by you in the parade …

Of all the things you once told me…the stories of the fall were always my favorite… The ones you ended with the flowing skirts and the white socks - the ones where you had a green briefcase , I could nearly see the smile in your eyes…

I want to write a story, about a little girl..who could live and die at her own will and had somewhere to run… a story where she somehow managed a train ticket and reached a far away land. I want to write a story, the one which would end with both of us waving each other goodbye…

Thursday, September 5, 2013

permit card

She wanted to get away..to a world of sunsets and sunrises...
The telephone sang at a deafening high pitch...

My world boasts of a glorious burning sun and soulful starts...
I gave her the lower note...

She flies now...into an indigo Neverland..
Guess the sun was never as fiery as I thought.. all I needed to do, was take my glasses off.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Brishti...jah..!!

Mone holo tui kadli..
Mon khule kede nili ki..?
Shob raag-hingshe-obhimaan-natok ...
Gaan pagol hoye kadli ki tobu..??

sei hariye jaowa putuler gaan.. dupur belar achar churi ..??
je gaan gulo bhoye bhoye gaitish bathroom er janalaye-e
chondo-poton ghotlo ki tor..??

Barud hoye jole uthlo chokher jol..?
Halka sunte pelam bujhi...!!!
eki.!! hariye galo je abar..
dhore rakhte parli na..?? ekii..!!!

du-haat bariye dhorte gelam toke...hoye galo shobdo-kolpo-druum...

nishchinho hoye galo ghame bheja shorir... tor kannae aj chora balir bhoye..
hariye ja tui...uure ja jhor-er sathe...
fire ele notun thikana khuje debo toke...
praan khola kannar... chokh jorano hashir...

Khete na peye morte gechilo naki..
Brishti r jol e gola bhejali aaj...
Cholna doure beriye ashi...
Domka meghe dhaka .. oniruddha akash...

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Shondhye jokhun shokal-rong e aanka...

sondhye jokhun obujh preme pagol...
sokal tokhun tuuk-tuuke laal saree...

sondhye jokhun badhon chara nouko..
shokal tokhun shanto dupuur ghum...

shondhye jokhun tuumul gaan er ashor..
shokal tokhun ranna ghor er dhoya...
shondhye jokhun kham kheyali jhogra..
shokal tokhun thakuma r jhuli r golpo..

tobe shondhye akhun rattir kalo megh...
shokal tai shanto jol der dhara...

Monday, March 4, 2013

jol er tolae kaadle..jol nilche hoye jaye


pathorer kotha to keu bole na..
boye jaoya nodir gobhir akta konaye..
pore thaake bochorer por bochor -
akta sobder opekhaye - jege thake oklanto raat

kimba onek duur theke bhese asha , akta kono sukno pata..
... pathor tar kotha ta keu bole na-

raat er aandhare jokhun chooto
akta sopno bhese ashe ...
seta chuuye, dekhte iche kore
haat er nagale paye na kichutei
jol ta gobhir boddo
hariye jete chaye..
othocho ....
akta sobdo sunte hobe je
atodin er opekhya... mithye hoye
jabe ki..??
akta sobdo sunte hobe je

etai to amar moner shothik dik -
baki ra to shob bibhranter dol
ba ebhabe boli-
bishakto jol to shwasther pokkhe tyamon ekta bhalo na...
sei raatpaharer pukurer pare bose thaka kishori -
je frock e mukh gunje kande
chul elo melo, paa ta nongra.....tar hathe sei pathor

hothat tup kore hath theke paliye soja joltar onnek tolaye -- --

kichutei dakha jaye na
kadte thaka meye ta- hotat kiser anonde heshe uthlo ??
jano khub mojar khela..
pathor tao hashlo bodhoye ektu
onek duur theke dekhlo meyetake-
chokh muche uthe galo se
pathor tar santi...
acha..
jol er tolaye kadle keu bujhte parbe ki..???..
joler tolaye kandle naki joler rong nil hoe jaye
kimba hoyto megh hoye abar bristi hoe jaye
...ke jane..

jana chilo je ei niil rong-ta boddo kacher....
kokhuno na chute para akta khuub kacher nil rong
roj raat er sopne asha...akta ghum bhangano nil rong..

acha..
jol er tolaye kadle keu bujhte
parbe ki..???..

prem chapiye jibon hoye jaye…

Hariye jaowa duto gaan, aar akla dupurer rod...
Thomke jaowa shondhyer traffic - kimba loadshedding er raat er Rabindrasangeet...
somosto aakashta juure toke lekha kobita...
aaj raat er brishti ta, akanto tor jonno...

Amar beche thakar alo…
Gobhir hoye jaowa tumul bhalobasha…

Ei shohorer raat er akash jamon – shanto, kintu onek shobde bhora,
Tor sathe duto diin dariye thakte cheyechilam…
Shokto haat er kothin ador..shanto sokal er tuumul kalo jhor..
Pukurer paar er ghash – naam na jana onek purono bondhu..
Cheyechilam duhaat khola akash – megher sathe hariye jabar gaan

Shobdo gulo shonge cholte thake
Chayaa eriye chole jaye…
Tor moto mithye kothar taal e… prem chapiye jibon hoye jaye…

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

the fake chastity ...



"wanted to touch the flame in the middle of the night - velvet and glitz and glamour...It was a shadow indeed ... i saw the raindrops rolling down the night, touching and smoldering the velvet arch - by some god-forsaken reason i knew; i knew the blood clotted scratch mark"
               But somehow, i forgot what i left behind - a shadow too deep - reaching every corners of the red splattered depth, or simply my own image smiling at me from another world...??

I remember knowing that i was destined to shiver in my spines - maybe i did; a little... 

Every touch -- the dirty love, the germs, the sanitized cloth,  every breathless moment of  standing in the middle of the civilized persecution - o yes !! i lived it all.. I have lived through the ages of unspoken hatred,  the fire in the gut and the wine in the hands -- ooh..!!! how loud it was..and i lived it all.

They raped every night - the beauty, the unreal sanctity, the bitter truth, the virgin robes - just a scratch and the threads crumbled down. How beautiful they looked !!. Lying naked on the floor - so close I could touch them now, not so inflammable anymore, not so pure, not so fake - they earthed every spiritual abuse for how they lived - real for once.

The blood stains, oozing out of the womb - i smelled it so close i nearly touched the mother. The mornings seemed normal again, the fights seemed original. 

Yet you came to me that night...and the flares of sunshine burned the soul... i knew the venom was your addiction.. but how could I have stopped.. you gave me your poison and I fell in love...The poison was the elixir for that one very day - the day when the skirts swayed and the music boomed and the shadow kissed the lolita...

You silenced the moments when the whole world went blind...the awkward smiles, the much enjoyed juvenile.. You knew what you needed - just the chalice - you called it "Shangri-La" .. a tiny hut to live your sin, a glass of wine to drink your guilt and a bread to kill your murderous gut... But you forgot the girl you "reaped" ... she kept your monster alive - she made love to the monster every night under your bed and you never knew - you never saw. i laugh at the silence of your stinking pure earth , I mock at you because you never hear the lava spew ... 

My night stands here with vengeance in its vain ...... i slay the heart with my mortal blade......wine and blood are brothers here every night - the more i run, i feel the pain.


I despise you - that's all i have. But now , that is all that you will have too......  - "Vengeance is green this time... and yet they say whatever is divine is soul-sublime"