A Closed Window

Long time back, a window was kept widely open to let everything enter. The aroma of the living entered through the space provided and diminished the void inside. New colors spread its wings to fly around inside. Vibrancy sprinkled and I was experiencing my child inside. Soon dark clouds began to loom over the bright sky outside. Storm is set to start. Clouds clash for the biggest fight of the night. Thunderstorms predict the density of the newly arrived guest. Rain started, with heavy storm blowing my window panes here and there. Splashes of rain water pierced my room. I rushed to close the window to protect myself. Heavy rainfall continued outside.
Long time after, there was a knock at my window pane. Fresh air with the aroma I ever waited for knocked my window. I opened the window. Circle of life never ends and dark clouds gathered outside again. Thunderstorm and rains continued thereafter. I, closed my window, once again to protect myself. This time rain was pouring inside.

Unforced Errors

The tenacity of achieving the pinnacle of success sometimes embraces with the unforced errors. However much, one tries to break the shackle, the strange laws of nature never let you scarper with ultimate satisfaction. The world which played the stage of mankind, stood silently to watch the waves of time. In fact, the time itself manipulates the entire string of events. It ciphers the strange equation. We, the mere puppets, are just the ordinary variables for that unknown equation.

rong

rong tumi dekhale onek
chena rong-e tumi hole ochena
aaj sob rong mishe geche ondhokare
hatriye khuji nijeke.
sedin chilo rong-e vora
neel akashe chilo ramdhonu
bodle jabar chilo na ishara
aaj bodleche amar otit.
swapne chilo koto aalo
bandok rekhechilam vobishhote
sob swapno mile geche vule
songini amar ami adhare.
rong aar chai na ami
she aaloy jete chai na aar
aaj ai adhare
khurechi notun thikana.

A Girl in the City

Sun has set in the west a few hours back to mark the end of day. Swarthiness prevailed the blue sky. A good old city sneaked under the blanket of darkness and lit itself up with fluorescent lamps. The perforated sky hooked the eyes of every individual to enumerate the glowing bulbs. The sound of Bach played at some unknown distance created the hallucination of illusion. The birds maneuvered the route to their individual nests. Every strike of an hour the clock made lessened the volumes of the man-made machines. The city with its people gets ready for some much needed rest. The beggars clean up their portion of the road for the night’s dream of getting rich which ends up with the morning rays of the sun. Night is here, here at Calcutta.
At some distant place, a girl lies on her bed with eyes closed. Memories come and go by like the waves of the sea, leaving some sweet moments at the shore. She is alone among the entire mass of objects yet she is not lonely as she has ‘herself’ for company. The monotonous day to day ‘struggle for existence’ life starts with the rush for achievements. The mask that is donned at work often becomes the face. Soon work becomes the identity and the ‘inner-self’ gets unnoticed and eventually gets lost into the heap of rubbish items and subsequently thrown out of consciousness. The prized possession that the girl possesses is everybody’s envy. She looked around and found people all over the place. Sometimes their voices reach her ears, sometimes they fade away along the destination. Recollection of her present past state she wonders how on every occasion she stood by her own side. The trust and affection which she pours on herself fortifies her deterministic strength. Relationships that exist in this reality scare her as she hated the word ‘compromise’. Relationships in turn snub her to which she never revolts. Every other people interpreted her but she failed to make them read her. The void that is now felt in the heart is filled up with the fantasies about dolls although she has grown up to a big girl.
A dream came and knocked her eyes. She drew the pillow closer to her body. An exhibition of a smile on her face lit up the dark night and she grasps the happiness firmly. The city sleeps with her with a new hope and a new tomorrow.

2 Days in my Life

This morning I wake up being alive. I walk towards the basin. Brush my teeth, splash water on my eyes, face and wipe with the hanging towel. I look in the mirror and pronounce the words ' I have two days in me, today and tomorrow.'
Thereafter, I turn back and proceed for the rest of the day's work.


Note: I'm left with one day in my life, when the morning I don't pronounce these words and the day is - yesterday. I exist no longer.

A Journey

This blog was born as I was hungry. Some say it’s a fashion to write blogs. Rather it’s a due to an advice made by a close admirer. It started in the winter of 2009 when the admirer popped up a question of expressing the unexplored sentiments in a few pages of the web.
The first thought which flashed through my idle brain “what is the need of such blogs?” turned to some unknown curiosity. Inspired by the admirer’s own blog, it injected the rush in the adrenalin to venture out with a new dimension. Interestingly the first column which I penned down cemented its place in the critical comment section of an article posted by the same admirer. The comment somewhat gave a boost to my novice little fingers to proceed further in the field of literature.
My admirer argues with me about the way I see the proceedings of time. I somewhat fail to interpret the time with its bag full of jests. The examples of the timely events invoke an oddity in me to which I get ‘lost in translation’. Every thought has an underlying thought thereby justifies the existence of layers of other thoughts beneath the simplicity, which eventually sums up to me as something not simple enough. Still he tries to lead me towards the path of simplicity only to end up with restlessness just like placing a thread in the tiny needle hole!
I conceived the blog to portray the vibrant yet random ideas which surprise me with its true colors. There is a thought in me which says “if there is no hard work in unveiling the unknown then where is the joy in completing the work?” As for a consideration the curves of a nude woman fails to arouse the imagination in comparison to a woman exposing her cleavage in some revealing dress. I intend to follow my inner thought process and therefore commenced a journey to which I extend my hand to accompany me..

kon se alor swapno niye dekhi ami..

swapno jokhon sudirgho hoye othe

ak nishwashe digonto choa jay

sunte pacchi tomar konthoswor

sunte paccho naki tumi amay

raat bere chole ak janmer kanna

gumre othe buker ghore

sunno deoale tari pratidhoni

fire ase aro sunnota sathe kore

swapno jokhon sudirgho hoye othe

ak nishwashe digonto choa jay

sunte pacchi tomar konthoswor

adhar poloke akai niralay

jibon jotoi dik na jotil dhada

ghor chere ami beriye porechi thik

hisheb milabo vuler onko koshe

behishabi ami hoboi akkhorik

ak nishwashe digonto choa jay

sunte pacchi tomar konthoswor

sunte paccho naki tumi amay.

Late Goodbye..

The countdown started few seconds back. Every one of us started screaming with enthusiastic voices. And why not? Its the end of a long long decade 2000-2009. Incidents occurred as if they were bound to without the utmost state of eudaemonia. When everything is calculated in seconds time, Usain Bolt marketed himself in flat 9.58 seconds. History repeats itself when in a local derby the five goal revenge is sweetly taken by the arch rivals. If five is the point of discussion then the youth of a single nation was mesmerized with five point someone. The tune of slumdog conglomerated the dignitaries to receive a history made in gold. Sometimes history is made with blood. 2974 or more than that joined the history in some september. If this was man made history then nature has its own quotient to mark its presence in the race. Over 150000 were blown away by 9.3 on the Richter Scale measured in the one of the oceans. 'Yes, we can' was the slogan of the youth, the new generation lead by the young winner for peace. A country with maximum population supported this newly made philosophy and exploded the odds with a massive and extravagant event that surprised the world. Over 2 millions glued themselves to the event. The market fell apart like a crazy ball. With every bounce it made, lessened its height of prosperity. Living in the lap of luxury suddenly turned out to be a dream. Newspapers, television sets, radios etc. nearly everyday impersonate the non realistic ends of lives, paralyzed society with its own examples. Strings of subdued incidents occurred which somehow get into the cover of dust. The theory of everything is the new bread for thought and the secrets of black hole is being calculated in open daylight. I pricked myself and said 'where am I ?'. Is it a real place? Seeing is believing yet sometimes the wonderful things are believed without being seen. Ten years. Transformation from regular uniform to fancy dresses, freedom to dependent, complex beginning to the seeds of complexity. I Lost in Translation. The seconds hand continues its circle of life when it says 9..8..7..6..5..4..3..2..1..0 we say together 'goodbye 2009'.