Friday, May 28, 2010


That night in december..
You asked me to stay,
The night,
even when you were asleep,
just to be there,
so that you'll feel protected..

And I did..
sitting by your bedside all night,
reading Gorky and sometimes your face..

Even today at nights
I sit by my bedside but alone,
just to feel protected..

Monday, May 10, 2010

Unknown To Me

An afternoon drenched
in the colours of rain,
I view it sitting with a coffee mug on a mahogany table
a crumpled black and white picture
In which I look a stranger
and I smile both in and out of the photograph.
Now,I am unknown to me.

The rains all spent,
the sounds,fragrance and your eyes,
all come running back to me.Until I run,
run with my thoughts.
Its you I imbue.
I am unknown to me

The coffee mug If I see closely, still
has the imprints of those small finger stains,
Though I rarely have coffee
only on noons when it rains.
And when I do, I reminiscence too of you perhaps.
I become unknown to me

The picture, of a summers day spent
while bathing in the rains just like todays
though it rained heavier then
or you held my hand perhaps.
And I forgot myself, I became you.

And now
I think of you almost never
just once in a while like this dripping shower.
and I've almost buried in memories how you took my name,
and the way you hummed it in the middle
then smiled,making me look into your eyes
and I lost myself,
I've forgotten the way
though at times I don't recognize my name.

Ah peacefully it rains soaking all the souls,
it was afterall long overdue.
And it rained out my heart of you,
Perhaps I've wet my eyes too.

And may be now I know me...

Sunday, May 9, 2010

Moon, Tonight

Upthere perhaps its different tonight,
the sky neighboring my window
is coloured with rains and a dotted moon's light.

Through my windows eyes,it seems.
with tears the moon is swell
it too is melancholic tonight perhaps,
perhaps it couldn't sleep as well.

It looks into my eye',
unnerving me,asks
don't you ever cry.

why are you so perplexed then
and look at me this way
with fear I close down
my eyes, my drapes
and the flowing river of thoughts,
my fears make me sway.

...At other nights
when the moon sleeps peacefully
curled among clouds.
The rains still drenches me.
I still look out.

Saturday, May 8, 2010


On other days,
when frigid november winds flow,
I let you in with open arms
to feel you within me,
around me,caressing
with your gentle touches.
And your gentle dance,warmly
all over with glee.

But these days
I dread to look at you,
to know that
you won't comfort me,
your touches would not be caresses
but vehemently wil hold me.
And my pain will be your ecstacy.

I close my windows
cover them through my drapes
and even doors,
I lock you outside
and free myself of you
inside my cage.
and you cry
to be free inside,heavely.

Though you are around always
Yet I ensalve you outside
and we contradict ourselves,
How capricious are we O sun.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

The Telegraph Lied

Telegraph Kolkata

The next day said

A speeding truck kills a man in the outskirts

And that he was from tollygunge all of twenty five

But they didn't say

That his R's at ends were curved,

And Liverpool was the team he loved.

Was still reading Wuthering heights then

Perhaps the fifty seventh time

That when he wrote his poems and even in life

On certain days he just loved to rhyme

That she still remembered his actual birthday

And not the one registered at the college or club.

That he could never cook rice properly

Or even slice tomato in perfect fours

But he said that there will be a wagon of maids

Who’ll take care of all her chores.

She was finally learning to drive a car.

Only Mondays were worthy

Of his intense painful hate

And when Thursday ended he wanted to have some ice cream

or chicken at Chinagate to celebrate

The last date.

Rains still made her gloomy and she still

Looked for him everytime she crossed tollygunge or presidency.

She Still shivered if someone said ,

I am pursuing English honours from presidency

Or I love Keats

Even when someone called out debesh on the streets.

And whenever her husband made love to her she still imagined him.

Her ATM pin was still, sixteen seventy four

Or she never ever heard Sinatra anymore,

Both her sons and their father knew

She was allergic to tulips

And only she knew she wasn't

It just reminded her of a few stolen days in Munich.

And his Maa-Baba still called her once in a week.

She still had saved his old telephone number,

at times she still smiled at their love day sometime in November.

She still watched Bonnie and Clyde

And laughing she wanted to reach him forgetting he had died.

It was all of it that she knew Telegraph didn't write.

Telegraph Kolkata

The next day said

A speeding truck kills a man in the outskirts

And that he was from tollygunge all of twenty five

But what they forgot to mention

Was even she after that wasn't alive.

But one thing she was sure about

That the Telegraph had lied.


Amidst all the hues of scarlet blood and hut muds.
watching all the noises and smokes perverting.
dreaming of the first rains healing me taking me with her
to places where compassion resides,paradox gnawing.

still somewhere there, look serenity arriving..

When words are not enough for verse,
and all the metaphors go unheard.
while protecting self from guns and deaths
so those rubbles of hopes aren't murdered..

revering to fly in the sky, to talk to the winds to be free,
to heal me from the wounds of rhyme from clutches of poetry

Its faith they are marauding
still somewhere there, look serenity arriving..

Redundant hopes,Refused acceptence
yet perseverance and truth colliding..
Don't let me go..

look serenity is arriving...