Been all that and more…

A sincere 12^th player

A silent observer

A stalker

A lover

Cared for and cursed by

A loner

And a seeker.

Been there

Never belonged

Judged, criticized, slapped

Compensated cruelly.

If the stray curls close to the door

Where does it belong?

Image Courtesy : Anirban Chakraborty

SOL

He is utterly shabby. Couple of loose entangled coils in place of hair, projected randomly in all directions. What I was  first mistaken of as boots were actually socks torn up at ankles and  pulled onto the jeans that made them look such. He wore snug fit dark green jumpers. I am of opinion that they were light green, once upon a time. One eyed I guess, as he could barely open the other, wrinkled skin which had been creased darker with dirt. Old fellow, lost sanity...

 He came to our hostel canteen quite frequently. An object of interest for long, I wanted to know about him. At times when I went to collect my tea he would make way for me politely. I was amused by his mannerisms. Discussing about him with my friend I made up my mind that I would learn more about him the next time I come across and also provide some monetary help as well.

                                                            ---x-x---

He was ordering tea while me and my friends also chatted over cuppa. But sadly I only had fifteen bucks but still, I and a friend rushed after him...caught him at a distance. I panted clutching the money tightly inside my sweatshirt pocket. My friend initiated;

"Hello ! Humein aapse baat karni thhi?"

"Haan boliye?" He replied in a weak voice.

I got numb, had never heard him talk. Couldn't judge if he was normal. I thought he might grow violent anytime.

"Aap kahan rehte hain?" We asked.

"Yahin peeche."

"Peeche kahan."

"SOL (School of open learning) mein." He answered instantly.

I was not sure whether to give him the mean amount or not, I was still clutching it tightly.

"Aap kya karte hain?"  We continued our kya- kyun- kaise  stuff.

"Main registrar huun." He offered us tea which he was holding. We politely declined. I was sure by now that he had lost his sanity. Yo man ! I buy it, you are a registrar. I am queen of Jingalala. 

"Acha, aap kya karte hain wahan?"(See again!) I pestered him, scrutinizing tad too much.

He was a bit irritated by that time I guess, he began;

"Listen ! I am a registrar at SOL. What do you think I must be doing. I work there. The designated work." He spoke this in English with an accent far superior than mine, the money which I had been clutching tightly all this while, dropped inside. It must have taken a humble corner. I did not know what to say now.

 "Oh ! We just wished to speak to you". I flaunted my English this time.

"Alright ! It was nice talking to you people." He departed then.

My friend shouted at me " Saali tu issko pandrah rupaye degi? Wo tujhe abhi sau ka note nikaalke deta! Aur chaar baatein aur sunata!"

I came back, my head sunk low. One of my friend's friend told us on our way back that he lives on streets. Rich once, has given most of his property in charity. These days he writes articles for some magazine or like. And also helps students with assignments who know him around.

What do I say now? World's strange ! 

I would think twice before offering someone money from now on.

And yes, next time If I need some help for assignment,I know where to hit. SOL ! :D

Amidst everything, I get old.

Random steps

Nowhere they lead to

A journey alone

And destination unknown.

The birds there

Must have told you

With them for so long

But to them you don’t belong…

Walking for years now

On same path
I’ve made a mark

Of my presence

…persistence.

No, I’m not complaining

I was made for you

(To be ruined by you).

You have not forgotten me

Just can’t

I believe in it

I believe in the silence around.

--x-x---

The tiny little droplets

Slowly drip away

But remember one thing;

Amidst everything

I get old.

Window

My small window

I had thought

It was to

Bring in some light.

But I failed

To realize

It was also to

Pour out some.

One more time

-->

-->

I flared a smile,

Met by contempt

 You looked down at me.

I did everything

Explained you frantically

You didn’t believe.

You said things

I was hurt

You were hurt.

Did things end?

Yes,

One more time...

-->

ps: To my Bestest Friend.

Disoriented

Opening a book

That I know I would never read

Scribbling on last page of my notebook

Amongst a frantic crowd
Earnest discussions
And one nonsense

Walking the longest stretch at marketplace

With nothing to buy

Ominous silence

And an old friend

Declaring defeat

To avoid further trial.

Never to be visited again…

I won’t write me anymore

It’s as if I pretend

Scribbling unnecessary mirth

Or pouring down exaggerated woes.

Such a show-off

Drawing attention

I make you laugh

When I’m overjoyed

Agonized

I inflict you with same.

I describe things

Metaphorically

That leaves you stuck

Pondering…

I complicate things

Leaving it worded

Entangled in close knit of ideas

I put forward a brief state

And that is;

Never to be visited again…

ps: This blog isn't shutting down ! Paradoxical you may say.

Fountain

I rise from you
Up, ecstatic
I fall back to you
Rejoiced, rippled
Collected in a pool
Tranquilized, possessed.


I am finding myself
After losing 
Into you.

Ace and ...

There is a guy called Ace. How do I know him? That's not important, I am not in this story. 

Now there's someone who loves him beyond words. He loves her too. She has been with him through thick and thin, supporting him, guiding him, encouraging him throughout.

Ace has left the city to pursue further studies.And she's still with him. She calls him everyday.

At times he gets irritated by all the fuss she creates about his little things like why he didn't have breakfast, when did he wake up and what was he studying etc. At this he becomes furious and slams the call.

 She doesn't minds it  at all. She never minds...

Once Ace asked her about her health, her recovery from illness and whether she ate properly and had fruit. To this she replied;

"Nothing seems to please when you are not here. The fruit always gets rotten thinking that you too don't take a proper diet there."

ps: Yes, you guessed it right. Who else than a mother?

pps: If you have a mom, there is nowhere you are likely to go where a prayer has not already been. ~Robert Brault

I Am Home.

Grim air

To light spirits.

Thick accent

To endless chuckles.

Last minute cramming

To laid back readings.

High on caffeine nights

To many coffee tables.
A bunch of greets

To greeting slangs.

Pleasing allies

To hailing sidekicks.
Victory after victory

To relishing life;

I am here,

I am home.
_____________________
ps: For Thakur & Virus.
pps: Blog begins at home. 


And I have something very special to share. For those who've enjoyed "Jab We Met" in the past, they can read everything under the same which was posted here previously (and many more!) on the exclusive blog,  
Divine Puppets. 

Anonymous

Disheveled in mind

Thoughts;

They born, they break.

What pained was

When I didn't reach them

For they had reached me .

And the ones which remained unattended

Were the ones which were amply me

Scattered everywhere

Ranting hard, such a show-off !

Docilely now

I very much stand here

Don't I?

Then succumbed to anonymity

Who was it?

DURGA

A familiar fragrance grows on you
the light smoke
sketching an aura divine.
The vivid vermillion around
spreads strong.
And walking through the string of diyas
Intense.

I stand before her;
Ablazed.

Image by: Anirban Chakraborty

Gift?

The silver box is packed
In the hope to see a smile
The folds pressing love
Layer by layer...


The silver box is opened
In disbelief
And numbness creeps in
With each fold.


That smile slowly fades away
And instead
A tear is dropped.


Wouldn't you love such a gift?

Sweetheart

He: It feels as if I have seen you taking birth, as a toddler, as a cheeky li'l schoolgirl, then gradually turning into a sensible lovely young adult.

I've known you throughout.

---

She: You made faces, I know. Irritated by the unnecessary mirth at times, then, falling for the same silly gal. How casual you looked when I came to meet you.But then the frantic calls when I disappeared.I enjoyed it all from a distance then grew restless myself. 
I know you read all my emotions... pretending not to care..you fought hard inside, I know...

But I had to close my eyes, because,

I could see you seeing me...

On World Photography Day

Insect on a canna lily

                                                "Let there be light."

Photo courtesy: Anirban Chakraborty

Camera Model : Nikon D5000, Nikkor 18-55 VR lens

He loves me/ He loves me not !

A parchment lying

In corner table there

A thin film of dust

Has yellowed it a bit

The corners curved

Frictioned by thick air

That flows

To settle.

A closer look

And the two eyes

Looked straight into mine

Just the eyes there.

Jinxed,

I listen the bitter-sweet-bitter tale.

It's been a while now.

He's not here yet.

---

What shall I call it?

Somber eyes

Or unsketched face.

And it's

Both.

LOST

Cupped your hands

plunging it deep down

you bring me up

to drink it

to your soul.

But

you stopped and pondered.

What happened then?

I fell from the spaces

Trickled down
where I came from;

Not to be the same forever.

Untitled

Diamond

Undiscovered, rare.

And just the rough they saw !

How do I blame them?

For

It needs to be me

To see you.

Utopia It Is…

Today he’s laughing

Today’s he’s enjoying

Full of life, full of love

A day of his puppets

Reflects his verve.

A perfect day planned for them

A classic you see begins;

They yearned for it

So out of reach it seemed

But today they are living their dream.

The subtle fragrance of incense and flowers

Gently wafts in the breeze

Yes truly this is

How it begins!

Purity of hearts

Serenity of minds

That’s how the utopian mates

Were puppets divine.

Gurgling water splashing over stones

The bubbles dance, sings that song

Of the joy that each moment holds

The endless tale of eternal bliss

Putting life to lifeless

Utopia it is…

Making way through those slippery stones

A quest to capture moments so fine

Those cheers and floating laughter

Gawd! It’s all so hard to define.

The melted chocolate

Slaking the souls

Both of them

Enjoying the luxury of their roles

The air of togetherness

Raising the spirits

And those silly attempts to startle, amuse and tease

Aah! Utopia it is…

The master rejoices

For putting up such a fine show

With a heavy heart he drops the curtain

And his tears of joy begins to pour

But the magic of this day will never cease

That’s why we say

Utopia it is

Utopia it is…

Wonder

Ecstasy

is to find 

what you lost

ages ago.

What you dreamt today

can still be lived !

But

to live

a day spent

years ago is;

Wonder.