Thursday, April 30, 2009

I search but find not

I want to follow
The bent curves of your body
To reach the gold spot
To reach the gold spot
The bent curves of your body
I want to follow

Written For: Week Eleven of The NaiSaiKu Challenge

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Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Wild Is The Wind

Whistling across
Illuminating ruffle
Lightening fast
Devastating at times

Influential flurry
Storms away

Tearing silence
Hollow gust
Ever blowing

When it’s mad
It stops for none
Nor you, nor me
Divulges reality

Written for: Acrostic Only

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Tuesday, April 28, 2009


losed in a tank
nly to fake fun
o access to the world
unny for morons
ncarceration in all
ullified mobility
Echoes cruelty of
Entreating freedom
ot just awe
he fishes in glass tank

Written as prompted in: Acrostic Only

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Sunday, April 26, 2009

Walk with me

Hold my hand
Think of us as one
And come; walk with me till the end.
Do not think too much
Right or wrong
Love me.

Written on: April 22, 2009 at: The Writers Lounge.

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Your smell

Your smell
Lingers after you go
Stays with me when I am alone
Your stench

Written on: April 21, 2009 in The Writers Lounge.

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Saturday, April 25, 2009

Irresistible - Your Bare Skin

Asks for
Naked skin
On thy bare body
To touch; to smell; to feel you more
To bring you closer
To my soul
To me


This is the Poem along with the censored picture.
I wrote this on April 23, 2009 at: The Writers Lounge.
I removed the poem from there and I am posting it here for you all.

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The Words
I told you
Whenever I held you
Close to my face, close to my heart
Right in to your heart
"I Love you"
It’s true –

Written on: April 21, 2009 at: The Writers Lounge.

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Friday, April 24, 2009

The Box Made of Bamboo

I stayed back as Nishi left in her red Maruti. I cannot afford to take a taxi back home. I have to walk till the Bus Stop, which is no nearer than almost a kilometer from the gate of our office.

The rain was problem. The early summer rainy weather in Haridashpur tells a lot about the climate here. However, the cool breeze along with the drizzle was invigorating. Spring does not stay here for long. Summer starts almost as winter ends. That means that the rains came after a good seven or eight months. No, it rained during Durga Puja too. Yes, it did – I am sure of it.

Anyways, I was getting late. The last bus would arrive in – hmm – let me see the watch. Yes, the last bus will arrive in twenty minutes. I need to reach the Bus Stop before that.

I held one end of my Dhoti and jostled it in to the waist knot. I held the other end with the two fingers of my left hand and made an umbrella with my leather handbag and stepped into the puddle. The leather sandals got wet the very moment and declined to walk along any further. I stepped back and came inside the shed. I took the sandals and put them into a plastic carry bag, in which I brought my lunch to office and carefully put them inside the handbag. They went in and there were no more snags. I could walk now.

I stepped back into the muddy road – this time, bare footed. The touch of the mud gave my senses a warning; but, my senses winked and cheered me up. I started to walk. The smell of the rain, the fresh zephyr and the stench of the mud was making me nostalgic.

I went back to my childhood. I remembered how I rescued the 3 kittens from my neighborhood in one such rainy day. I remembered the aftermath too.

I walked briskly, for the Bus Stop was not near. The drizzle got heavier and the small handbag could just get wet along with me. The Kurta was all wet by the time I reached the next corner lane. I will get a good spanking today once I reach home, I knew. This is only the second Kurta I have; the other one I received last year, during my sister’s marriage.

I liked walking in the rain. I would remain here forever, getting wet – getting drenched in these pearls that were dropping from heavens and hitting me like sharp nails. I wished the heavens were not that far away.

But I had to move – and move swiftly. I rushed through a few people and a beautiful girl, whom I would have stopped and gazed otherwise. The deserved that; but not in this rain. I ran.

Just before taking the next left towards the Bus Stop, I saw a small dark boy, not more than twelve years old, sitting in the corner of a big building. He was sitting alone; trying to steal himself away from the ever increasing rain. He was shivering; probably in the cold. I did not have time to look at him, so I moved on.


He called me? No! That is just an illusion. I took a few steps further.

“O Babu…”

It was him! Calling me at this time, when the rain is wetting me consistently and the next bus arrives in ten minutes now. What the hell!

I asked him what happened. He showed me the small box made of bamboo that he had beneath him. He was sitting on it all the time, protecting it from the rain. Then he showed me the two dots on his left hand – two deep cut marks. I took his hands on mine.

Snake bites! I was sure about it. I have known and seen snakes every week in my house. They used to visit us weekly – regularly for generations. We killed a lot of snakes in our house; perhaps, I myself had killed some ten snakes till now! I know what snakes are and what their venomous bites can do.

His hands were getting blue. He was not dark, but his whole body was now having a bluish tint. He was bitten by a snake and it has been a long time since that! He fell down, on my feet.

*** Three hours later, in Haridashpur Government Hospital ***

“Are you fine, boy?”

He could not open his eyes. They must be too heavy, after the antibiotics that the doctors gave him. I brought him to them just at the right time. The doctors said that the snake must have been low venomous and the poison did not spread in his body too much; however, if it was not for me, he might have gone into a coma!

“Are you fine?”

“Where is my box?” The boys jumped on his bed and shouted at the peak of his voice.

“What box?”

“The box I was sitting on! Where is that box?”

“There, at the corner. I brought it along too.”

“Oh! Thank you Babu, thank you a lot! Thank you for bringing my box along.” There was a clear sign of relief on his face. I could see that.

It was already too late. I called up home and informed them all about the incident and told them that I might have to stay back in the hospital if necessary. They were ok with it, after they heard all the heroics I did today. I was happy for it. The nurses around were smiling at me; the doctors were patting my back for bringing a road ridden boy to the hospital and saving his life – attention, I am so deprived of!

I was also a bit interested to know the story so that I do not leave my friends halfway while telling them the tale of my gallant efforts. I went near him and sat closed to him.

“What happened? How did you get bitten by the snake?”

“I did not get bitten. It was an accident. Shiva had to bite me. He was helpless too.”

“Shiva bit you? Shiva?”

“Yes, Shiva, my snake.”

“Your snake?”

“Yes. I’m the son of a snake charmer. Shiva is my snake, which my father caught a week ago and gifted him to me. I would maintain Shiva and train him for performances. He is my snake.”

“Then why did it bite you?” asked a nurse, awestruck by the story. The other two came and sat near to hear the story.

“I told you. He did not bite me. Father told me to wait for him in the corner of that building and take care of Shiva. He was trying to come out of the box and I tried to put him back in it. He was frightened; so he bit me in self defense. He never wanted to do that. He even does not know that he has poison in his bite!”

“Why did not you call anyone for help?” Somebody asked.

“I could not leave the place myself. Father asked me to stay there. I had to take care of Shiva too. However, I called out to a few other Babus but they did not come to me.”

Everyone in the room was captivated with the story. A few patients lying nearby sat up to take a look at the young snake charmer.

“Bring me my box please, Babu.”

I went and brought the wet bamboo box to him and held it over his lap.

“Where is Shiva now? Did you catch him?”

“Yes, I did! Here he is,” said the boy in excitement and he opened the lid of the box with a jerk.

The snake inside sprang up and the two nurses sitting on the bed sprang up too and fell down. I do not know what happened to the rest who were pouring on to the discussion; for the first thing that Shiva did after he came out of the box was to bite my hand which was still holding the box. I saw pitch darkness all around me.

When I woke up, there were at least 20 people in that Hospital Emergency Room – all looking at me like I was the last Dodo around. A dark big man was standing along with the boy whom I rescued, smiling at me from behind his big fat moustache. I could hardly see his grin; but I smiled back!

“He saved you,” the doctor pointed towards the big man. He added, “he took out all the poison from your hand and I did not have to touch you a bit,” and laughed away.

The big man smiled again. I smiled back at him.

I looked around. Everyone on earth whom I knew, were there in the hospital room. My parents, my sister, my brother in law were there. Even Nishi and Rajan, my colleagues were there too – all staring at me.

I looked at Rajan and raised my eyebrows.

“Three hours,” he said.

I was ashamed. The very thought of my own heroics have faded long ago. I was feeling insecure, shy and diffident in front of everybody. I wanted to go home.

“Are you fine, Babu?” the little boy asked, with the most beautiful smile I have ever seen and holding the box of bamboo with both hands – perhaps it was the closest thing to his heart.

Written as prompted on:
Tell a Tale : Week # 6: Snake

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Tuesday, April 21, 2009

You put me in bliss

I want to ask you
Are you the one that I love?
Are you the one, miss?
Are you the one, miss?
Are you the one that I love?
I want to ask you

Written for: Week Ten of The NaiSaiKu Challenge

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a - Single Word (an acrostic on Single Word)
y own self
In front of me
Reads my mind
Reveals my heart
Records my breaths
Sizzling truths – naked.

b - One Word Acrostic (an acrostic using one word per line)

c - Double Acrostic (an acrostic ending & beginning with the same letter)
irage, I am
I give you an alibi
Revere your power
Real I am, but afar
Original I am. So
Reflections, I concur
Sincerely, I confess.

d - 2 Column Acrostic (an acrostic , two words per line. Each word must begin with the same letter) - Not a 2 Column Acrostic; both the words in the line need to mean same too.

irror mine
Images incline
Reveals reality
Rears rapture
Obstinate, overriding
Renowned, reorganized
Senses sagacity

Written for and submitted to: Acrostic Poetry Workshop Blog (Workshop 1)

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Once when I was sleeping
Perhaps in a deep dream
Piercing my ears, my phone rang
One of my friends had called
Rudely, I talked to him
Then put down the phone
Unnoticed, what he wanted to say!
Now, he’s in the moon. And
I’m still dreaming. He called me
To accompany, but I did not listen!
Yes, an opportunity was lost!


Wrote this for: Acrostic Only (Opportunity)

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Monday, April 20, 2009

An evening boon!

The day was bad. There was no crowd in the beach that day. I sold only for 6 rupees. The big fat glass bottle of lozenges was still full. I did not know how I would pay the day’s rent of Rs. 10. The rent collector would come soon. It was going to be dark. The sky was painted in all colors – red, white, yellow, orange, grey, blue and black! There was a cool breeze coming from the sea. The birds were chirping. The scantly populated beach was getting more secluded as the few visitors present there were leaving too. I was sad and was preparing myself for a nice thrashing from both my Uncle Abdul and the rent collector, Raghu.

“ए छोकरा, इधर आ” (Hey boy, come here.)

I turned back and looked around. There were not many people around. It was getting dark too, and I could not see anyone. I curved back to my position and looked ahead towards the park, near the beach, hoping for someone to come my way and buy some of my lozenges.

“अबे इधर देख, निचे” (Hey look here, downwards.)

I looked down. A middle aged man, clad in torn jeans and a dark jacket over a bright colored polo shirt was lying down. He was certainly enjoying the cool evening breeze at the sea shore. I was happy to hear the call. Probably, he would buy some lozenges from me. I went to him.

Phew! He smelled like rotten egg. There was a mild smell of country liquor too. I know it because my Uncle Abdul always has it. He goes mad when he drinks. This must be tasty, but then, I don’t know. Everyone says that liquor is not good. They must be having their own reasons; but whatever it is, I never ever tasted that awful thing.

“अबे गधे, सुनाई नहीं देता मैं बुला रहा हूँ?” (You moron! Can’t you hear me calling you?) He said furiously.

“जी साब, बोलिए.” (Yes Sir, tell me) I went to him running; almost tumbling on the uneven hot sand.

“क्या बेचता है तू?” (What do you sell?) He commanded.

“निम्बू लागेंस साबजी.” (Lemon Lozenges, Sir.)

“कितने की है?” (For how much do you sell these?)

“एक रुपिअह में चार, साबजी.” (Four for rupee one, Sir.)

“पानी है?” (Do you have water?)

“पानी?” (Water?) I turned around and looked at the dark sea, behind me. I smiled, “नहीं, साबजी.” (No, Sir.)

“ठीक है. दो लोगेंस दे इधर.” (Ok. Give me two lozenges.)

“मेरे पास छुट्टे नहीं है साब.” (I don’t have change, Sir.) I murmured.

“इधर आ, एक राज़ की बात बताता हूँ.” (Come close, I will tell you a secret.)

As I went near to him, he said with a grin, “मेरे पास भी नहीं है.” (Even I do not have any.) Saying this, he burst into a weird and wicked laughter!

I did not like anything about that man. He had patchy stubble on his face which I did not like. He had a smell of rotten eggs that can be smelled from miles away. He had grown his hair and the way he dressed was weird too. I did not like anything of him. However, I was happy that he called me. I was sure he would buy some lozenges; but, now he was asking them for free? I will not give any even if he threatens to kill me.

“क्या हुआ? नहीं देगा?” (What happened? Won’t you give me any?)

I looked at him. His dark face was barely visible; more so, because he was lying down on the hot sand. I did not reply to him. I held the glass bottle closer to my chest, with both my arms around it. Probably, he saw that and he started laughing again. This time, it was even louder.

“इधर आके बेठ. अजा मेरे पास.” (Come here and sit. Come to me.) He said suddenly.

I did not move.

“अब आजा नहीं तो बहोत मरूँगा.” (Now, come here or else you will have it from me.)

I was not particularly scared; but then, I just did not want to offend him too. I went near and sat there, beside him. He was stinking! For the first time I saw his eyes. His eyes were very much different from his outlook. They were dreamy, half opened; probably because he was drunk, or maybe not. There was a soft feeling in his big brown eyes that twinkled in the dark evening at the beach. The first look in his eyes reminded me of Radhika, the daughter of the sweetmeat seller in my colony. I just fell in love with his eyes and there was a sudden feeling of attachment. I wanted to ask him something I do not know; but his smell kept me away.

He has had enough of that creepy laughter and was almost calm now. He did not detect me noticing him. He was looking down and was silent for some time – perhaps he was trying to accumulate himself to talk further. Suddenly, he looked up.

“तो, मैं पैसा नहीं दूंगा तो मुझे तू लोगेंस नहीं देगा?” (So, you will not give me any lozenge if I do not pay you, isn’t it?)

I took a deep breath and gathered some strength in my voice, “नहीं दूंगा!” (I will not!)

“हम्म… अभी भी नहीं?” (Hmm… not even now?) He took out a revolver from his belt and held it in front of my face. I was freaking stunned and scared seeing the gun in his hand. I went pale. I must have been visible even in the dark now. I could feel my hands shivering!

He exploded again! This time he was laughing so aloud that a few passerbies looked at us. No one saw the gun as it was hidden in the dark; but they wondered a lot, about this curious and strange laughter in the middle of the beach. It took me time to stabilize him. Suddenly he looked up at me.

“अगर तू मुझे दो लोगेंस देगा तो मैं तुझे मेरा एक लोगेंस दूंगा.” (If you give me two lozenges of yours, I will give you one of mine.)

I did not like it. First of all, he was going to exchange one of his lozenges for two of mine – a bad business. Secondly, I need to have money in exchange of my lozenges; I can give his lozenge neither to Uncle Abdul nor to Raghu. I did not like this idea.

His eyes must have done some trick on me. I did not think any further and took out two lemon lozenges carefully and handed over to him. I did not want his lozenge. He can keep it. I will handle the situation myself. I was not afraid of his gun! He asked for water, which I could not offer him. That was my duty, but then I had lozenges, which I can give. That’s fine then! I tried to console myself and justify the act.

He took the two lozenges and popped them in his mouth. I could hear him chew them first and then bite and break them into pieces. I felt a jolt in my heart when my lozenges were crushed brutally between his filthy teeth.

It was dark now and I wanted to leave. Raghu was not here as yet and I was happy. I thought to tackle him the next day, somehow.

“मैं चलता हूँ साब.” (I’m leaving Sir.) I said that and I prepared to stand up. He was searching his pockets as he noticed me leaving.

“मुझे आपका लोगेंस नहीं चाहिए.” (I don’t want your lozenge.) I declared.

He looked up at me, still lying on his one arm.

“नाम क्या है रे तेरा?” (What is your name?)

“अहमेद.” (Ahmed.)

“मतलब क्या है?” (What is the meaning?)

“पता नहीं साब.” (I don’t know Sir.) I was almost irate.

He extended his left arm and opened his fist over my palm. There was sparkling white piece of stone.

“क्या है ये?” (What is this?)

“मेरावाला लोगेंस.” (My lozenge.)

“लेकिन मुझे ये चाहिए नहीं…” (But, I don’t want this.) I tried to return him the same. He held my closed fist with both his hands and stood up.

“लेके जा. कभी याद करेगा मुझे.” (Take it. You will remember me sometime.) He said this, turned back and struggled through the sand and went away. He was lost in the dark within moments. I stood there for a few more minutes, holding the stone in my hand with all the strength I had. I did not want to lose it and I did not want to share it with anyone else. I knew what stone it was!

~: Six Years Later :~

Here I am today, writing about the evening that changed my life. The man I met on that evening was no less than an angel to me. He gave me a boon, in exchange of two lemon lozenges. And by virtue of that, I’m sitting in the 80th floor of the tallest building in Mumbai. It’s my own floor! I own a fully fledged business now. I have my own house and my own car. I need not sell lozenges after that evening. My days with Uncle Abdul were over. I never fought with Raghu again – I never had to. The evening brought me a godsend. The only thing that haunts me now, is the identity of the man, the seraph. Probably, I will never get to know who he was.

Written as prompted on: Tell a Tale (Week # 5: An Evening)

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Saturday, April 18, 2009


A freezing Day
Snow filled the crowded streets
It shines bright, as dazzling marble
All white.

Learnt Cinquain form of poetry from Pratibha at:
Crossposted at: The Writers Lounge on April 11, 2009

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Friday, April 17, 2009

Please don’t go

Not now.
Not after
You made me love you.
For, I would always miss you too.
If you go away
Tell me how
Would I

Learnt this form of poetry at: Of something 'n' Everything
Also posted at: The Writers Lounge
Syllable Count: 1-1-2-3-5-8-5-3-2-1-1

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Mistake: A scary reason


It was a hard fight. Once more. They have been married for two years now and Alex could not remember a single day when they did not fight. Every time they fight, it would end up in a quarrel and they would not talk for hour or even days! They fought again today. It was grave this time. Julie cursed him as much as she could and locked herself in the other room. She threatened to commit suicide, but Alex knew she would not dare to do so. She would come out in some time and everything will be in place. However, it was almost an hour that she has locked herself and has not uttered a single word since. It was scary, but he knew she would come back. He tried to think about the good times they spent together. The honeymoon in Geneva; the trip to Paris, a year ago; the last Christmas! Those were dream time.

He made himself a peg of scotch. He opened the bottle last week when Joanna and George paid them a visit. Alex liked the bottle more because of the long neck. It feels like long legs of the ladies he use to date – smooth and flawless! He took the first sip. It was awesome. The smell itself is worth the money he spent to buy the bottle. Julie liked it that time. He was missing her all right, but never would he go and call her. Why should he? It was not his fault today. He could not see the ego taking over his love for her.

He finished the bottle and puffed the last cigarette he had. The clock ticked two. What? It was 2 o’clock! And Julie was still locked inside her room! He unlocked his door and walked to her door.

“Julie.” There was no response. Probably she was asleep.

“Julie.” He called her loudly. There was no response still. He called a few more times, but nobody answered. He was anxious for a moment. He tried to look in through the keyhole. The sight inside was blurry, but it was clear that there was a mishap. Julie was lying on her bed and her limbs were swinging outside, as if she was falling down from the bed.

Alex shouted, “Julie. Don’t you dare play any prank on me! Come out, you moron. It’s too late now. I’m hungry.” There was still, no response.

Alex was worried now. He banged the door a couple of times and the latches gave away. He broke in and ran to her and perched by her side. She was lying still. A white froth came out of her mouth. Alex checked her breath and her nerves, but could not find any. She was no more! He stood up in fright. There was a piece of paper on the bed with the following scribbled in:

“Al, my love, I’m leaving you. I’m going to some place where I can be happy and I need not answer to your filthy questions. Our marriage is dead. By the time you read this, you will realize that I’m dead too. I never mistook you for any wrong reasons and I’ve given you all the proofs you wanted to prove my sanity. We have spent all dreadful time together. I thought everything will be all right; but you never cared for my sacrifices and you were always a coward to admit those. I have nowhere else to go, apart from where I’m leaving to. I know you will not be sad and I hold you solely responsible for my act. Goodbye, Al!”

He was afraid now. He could not move; neither could he stand up. He was shivering – more in fear; less in sorrow. Suicide – police – court – judge – sentence – jail! All ran through his mind in a single moment. He probably could hear the siren of a patrolling police car. His face went pallid. He accumulated all his strength and stood up. He looked back at her for once and ran out of the room. He banged his door behind him and threw himself on his bed.


After a few minutes, Alex opened his eyes.

Oh! What a dream! Was it? No! His door was open and the dead face of his wife was so very vivid to him; it cannot be a dream. He looked around carefully; her door was closed, his hands were still shivering and his heart beating faster, as if he has came running there. It is so real; it can be, but a dream! His wife was dead. And he was responsible for it. It was a suicide and the suicide note clearly mentions that he was accountable for it. Now, there will be police in his house in no time. He cannot escape the long hands of the law and soon he will be trialed and sentenced, probably with a capital punishment for inducing Julie to kill herself. Everyone in the society will know about it and everyone in Illinois will know once the news gets published in the morning paper. His friends, his colleagues and his long forgotten family members will come to know very soon and will spit at him. He almost cured his bad impression, but now, nobody will listen to him and nobody will spare him. None will be interested to listen to his reasons and all will abandon him. There will be no life, even if the jury spares him. There will be no Alex Graham Fox anymore.

Blood was all over his mind – the heart was beating fastest – the head was spinning; probably because of the alcohol inside, and more so with the fear of losing everything. He looked at the empty bottle of scotch. It was lying on the table. It allured him, somehow. He left the bed and held the bottle by its long neck and hit it on the brink of the table. There was a clatter of glass pieces flying around him and hitting the marble floor. The sharp edges of the broken bottle were chilling to look at.

Blood jetted out of his wrist, as he slit it with the broken bottle in his hand. Within a few seconds there was a pool of blood around him. He stared at his severed wrist. The veins were open and the blood streamed out like dammed water out of a sluice gate. As time passed, he felt weaker and hapless. He held his arm with the other hand and sat there in the puddle of blood. Alex could never know when his eyes closed and when he fell unconscious. But seconds before he lost vision, he could see in the wall clock. The time was exactly 1 o’clock! He instantly realized everything, but could not react before falling out cold.


The wall clock timed 2 AM. The distant church bells rang twice.

The other door knob rotated and the door flung open. Julie came out of her room. Her eyes were already pink; having cried for long hours now. She was feeling hungry too and knew Alex would feel the same. She thought that they can talk over the dinner and settle things, like always. She wanted to forgive Alex for every mistake of his – once more. She was certain to be able to resolve this issue and move on. She came near his door and peeped inside. The sight was bloodcurdling!

“Al, my dear!” she screamed and ran to him. She took his head and put it on her lap and burst into tears. She anticipated nothing of this sort and she was almost broken. The body of her husband lied in front of her, almost lifeless.


It was 5 AM now or the wall clock in the St. Joseph’s nursing home was running slow. Julie sat in one of the benches near the Operation Theatre, holding her head with both her hands. The hands were still stained in blood. She wished not to look back at the world again. She held herself guilty for all the tragedy that was brought into her life in the last few hours. She just wanted to die.

“Mrs. Fox, he is out of danger now. You can meet him in some time, once the nurses finish up.” The doctor said calmly, coming out of the Operation Theatre and wiping his hands. She looked up, for the first time in some time. Her eyes found a reason to glitter again. She wanted to thank the doctor, but then she almost lost the strength to speak.

“By the way, Mrs. Fox,” the doctor added, “Inspector Smith wants to see you for a moment. He is waiting at the reception downstairs. Take care of yourself.”

Her voice was sinking. She needed attention herself; but the thought of getting her husband back was strong enough to hold her upright. She was worried that the police will interrogate her, but then she was stronger now than ever before.

“Thanks doctor,” said Julie.
Prompted at:
1. ABC Wednesday Round 4: M for Mistake
2. Sunday Scribbling #158: Scary
3. Three Words Wednesday: 3WW CXXXIII (Allure, Perch, Vivid)
4. April 14th edition of Heads Or Tails! Week #86: HEADS - "Reason"

Thanks to all the blogs for prompting so wonderfully!

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Thursday, April 16, 2009

Coming back

I let her break in for I never expected her back so early. She had gone for good, I thought. She was all tears and laughing dramatically, as if I was ghost.
“Kiss me.”
We kissed. Heaven broke down upon us. That was the best moment in my life. And we lived happily ever after.

Also posted at: The Writers Lounge
Another Trial at Fiction 55.. Hope you like reading it...

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Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Love Hurts




Tried to write a Sonnet. A Bit Sized Sonnet, as showed by Pratibha. However, A Sonnet has only 14 lines and this poem exceeds that. So, it cannot be called a Sonnet. Hmmm... Will try again sometime... Till then, enjoy this :)
Crossposted at: The Writers Lounge

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Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Meeting in Future

In a chilling evening of Jan
Somewhere in Japan
The sky was red with a hint of cyan
She called out to the blind man
She offered him her flan
She said, “I’m your fan.”

He turned to her span
And stretched his hand.

Tears in her eyes – out they ran
As she looked at the man -
One of her own clan
She could very well scan.

Zoom passed a yellow van
It ruffled the old man.
He fell down and screamed again
As the time when he ran
Away from her, as far as he can.

Her hands trickled the bran
As he fell on the lawn
She whispered aloud, “Tan!”

... thinking of a meeting, sometime, somewhere in the future ... would love to do that, but then, if I can't even see you??

Crossposted at: The Writers Lounge on March 17, 2009

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Monday, April 13, 2009

Amazing you...

Its amazing when you speak to me
Its amazing when you make sense
Its amazing because I can understand
The meanings of your words, so dense!

A step or two, when you take towards me
I can see my world converging in
As you hold my hand and walk around
You make my blue world so green!

I talk to you, in puzzled words
You respond with puzzled looks
You try to learn, and you try to share.
Your smile proves a thousand brooks.

Come, my child and hold my hand
Walk with me into the world
I’ll teach you now, I’ll teach you how
To lead a life with bliss unfurled!

It’s a situation where the father is talking to his baby. The baby tries to talk, but could make no sense; but the father still finds that meaningful. The father talks and the baby cannot sense anything; but the baby tries to find its meaning. Both of them are in the same state of mind, the difference is that we can understand what the father can say and what the baby does, we can just gaze and guess! The above words are of a father!

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ANything FOr U..

Life has been so short
I could do all I needed
But could not love you
As much as I wanted to.

Wanted all for you
I wanted to get you moon
Would bring world to you
Whatever else you want, too.

Alas! I could not
Do anything for you, love
Could not make you dance,
Could not make you smile for once!

Love it was, throughout
Only that you could not see,
Wanted to be yours
I wanted to heal your soars.

I know I have failed
To stand by you in distress
But I would be there -
Now, here, there and anywhere!

Those times were such, and
Life had not been too placid
Told you my notions
I had my limitations.

Come back to me now
Its time, we make our own
New world to live in
And accept all with a grin.

Hope, concur my thoughts
Smile, run back straight to my heart
Come, leaving the rest
Love, for that’s what we do best
Together we’ll touch the crest!

Crossposted at: The Writers Lounge on March 13, 2009

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Sunday, April 12, 2009

तेरे दोस्त हैं यहीं

अपनी ज़हेन में झांक के देख
तेरे दोस्त हैं यहीं

अपने आप में ढून्द्के देख
तेरे दोस्त हैं यहीं

हवायों में देख
फिजाओं में देख
हर वो आइना, जो टूट चूका है
हर वो पल, जो बीत चूका है
उन लम्हों में देख
तेरे दोस्त हैं यहीं

अपने उम्मीदों से पूछ
अपने दिल की गहराईयों से पूछ
हर वो धड़कन, जो धड़क चूका है
हर वो जाम, जो छलक चूका है
उन खाली पय्मानो से पूछ
तेरे दोस्त हैं यहीं

और अगर फिरभी ना मिले कोई
तो ए यार मेरे
मेरे पास आ, तेरा भुला हुआ वो दोस्त
यहाँ है... यहीं पर है

Crossposted at: The Writers Lounge on March 18, 2009

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है तुझे कसम

है तुझे कसम
तूफान में घिरके ना खोना अपने आपको
हर रह तेरी होगी बुलंदियों की और ।

है तुझे कसम
अपनी मौत ना बना लेना अपने खौफ को
उम्मीद से बांधले अपनी जीवन की डोर ॥

है तुझे कसम
काँटों को करने दे अपनी राहों की हिफाज़त
काँटों से घबराकर चलना ना छोर ।

है तुझे कसम
ये जीवन है सुख और दुःख की बनावट
दुःख से घबरा कर अपनी रहे ना मोर ।।

Crossposted at: The Writers Lounge on March 18, 2009

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Saturday, April 11, 2009


It cuts
Gives new identity
Makes lovely dresses out of cloths

As prompted at: Weekend Wordsmith (95. Scissors)
Crossposted at: The Writers Lounge

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Friday, April 10, 2009

Send-off Question

She rushed out and ran to him and stopped him by his collar. She always knew he loves her; but it was important that he spells that out.
“Do you have a reason that I should not leave?”
He got into the car and popped his head out.
The car zoomed past her.

Learnt of this form of story writing at: Rocky Road
Words Count: 55

This is a new style of writing stories. Happy to have tried this. Will write more in time :). Thanks to Rashi for teaching me this...

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तेरा चर्चा आम है
तेरे दर पे भटकना ही तो
आशिकों का काम है...

खामोश तू रही
कभी कुछ भी कहा नहीं
चाहती तो तू, जिन्दगी दे देता, पर
जिन्दगी अपनी तो अब और रहा नहीं...

तुझे धुन्दने को अब जी करता है
तुझे देखने को अब जी करता है
जबसे तेरे होटों पे नाम आया है अपना
तेरे होटों को छूने को जी करता है...

ये मिलन की रात है आखरी
इसके बाद का कुछ पता नहीं
याद रखना या भूल जाना
इसमें होगी तेरी कुछ खता नहीं...

तेरा ख्याल दिल में ही होगा
जब भी चर्चा हुस्न की होगी
तो सिर्फ तेरा चर्चा ही होगा
तेरे जाने के बाद तेरा ही इंतज़ार होगा...

बहोत दर्द होता है जब कोई छुट जाता है दर्द और भी ज्यादा होता है जब कोई अंजना सा ये कहके बिछडे के आप उसके लिए बहोत मैंने रखते हैं कोई कहे और कहके चला जाये, और आपको तनहा, अकेला, बेकरार, बेचैन और परेशान छोड़ जाये, तो दर्द तो होना ही है... ये ऐसी ही एक दर्द भरी कविता है...

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Thursday, April 9, 2009

And celebrate love

The flower in your hair
Makes me to stare
Makes me want to smell you now
Makes me want to smell you now
Makes me to stare
The flower in your hair

Written as Prompted in Sunday Scribblings #157 - Celebrate
Also written for: Week Eight of The NaisaiKu Challenge

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Wednesday, April 8, 2009

The Last Meeting

That was the last time I saw him. He was almost breathing his last, when I arrived. His family was waiting outside his suite in the hospital; crumbled and broken. Ismail came to me and I could see it in his eyes.

“Sudipto, he is…”

I held his hands tightly. He was about to burst into tears; but then, he was the eldest male in the family now. The last thing he could do was to cry. I went to his mother and bent down near her. She saw me and looked away; holding the end of her sari and biting it she started to weep. I glanced at Dolly, Ismail’s sister. She looked at me too, more in distress. I wanted to go in and meet him.

“Ismail, may I go in and sit near him for some time?”

His mother looked up at me as if she wanted to tear me apart and kill me. She still thought it was my ploy and I was responsible for whatever has happened to Md. Haroon Anwar Nawab, her husband. I looked at her too, but I had nothing to say more. I was helpless. If she does not let me to enter, what would I do?

“Yes, you can go in. The doctor said it is fine if anyone goes in; but, don’t make any noise. He must be sleeping.”

Ismail told all these staring at his mother. She was weeping all the time; she did not utter anything. I took out my shoes and got in to a pair of hospital sleepers and a gown stacked in front of the suite. I opened the door and moved the curtains with minimum of sound and got in. It was a stunning sight inside the suite. Everything was so marvelous. The atmosphere was covered in white marvel and the pearly look inside was so pensive. There was only one window and the soft afternoon sunlight was coming in like rays from the heaven! The light rays were flirting with the furniture and the other medical instruments in the room. The tree outside made it look like they were playing hide and seek. I wished if it was not his hospital suite!

I tiptoed towards his bed and sat beside him on the stool. I did not make a noise, but somehow I knew he felt my presence there. He was motionless. The Holy Koran-e-Sharif was on his chest, and his hands were folded over it, as if he was praying to the Lord in these last few moments. The sunrays were falling on his head and his white hair was shinning like white marble. I sat there, listening to the silence that wrapped me from all around.

The sunrays on you
Calling me so much,
My hands shiver
Dying for
your touch.
And I am listening
To the silence in here,
Your sight
invites me
To come more near.
Will I ever know again
What you wanted
to say?
I don’t know this even
If you want me, this way!

Suddenly, his hands moved. I felt so, but I was not sure. A couple of fingers tried to rise as he extended his hand. I went close and caught it.

“Father, it’s me, Sudipto!”

His eyes opened a bit and from the slightest of the aperture he looked at me. I was all tears when I saw him that way. Probably he tried to smile – I would never know if he smiled that time.

“I have come back, father. I will take care of Ismail, Dolly and … and Amma too. You can count on me now.”

I could feel his hands strengthen the grip. I knew he wanted to tell something, but I never heard anything.

“Father, I’m sorry for all what I have done.” There was a long gap. “Please forgive me.”

I held his hand with both my hands. I knew he was taking his last breaths and I wanted to call out to his family waiting outside, but I could not leave his hand – not again – not anymore. His eyes were closing, but he was able to move his fingers. I wanted to hear him speak, but perhaps I never would. I could feel that these were his last moments and I was short of words. A renowned wealthy writer, who has published so many novels and poems of himself, was now searching for words – mere words with which he creates so much of fan following and fame, were not enough today to talk to his own father!

A last few words came out of my mouth, “I love you, father!” and his lips moved. This time he smiled and I could see it. My prayers were heard. Perchance, he had forgiven me. I was so happy. I pulled his hand near me to kiss them, when his hand dropped! It was all over. His hand dropped on the Koran-e-Sharif and I thought, maybe this was how God wanted me to be close to Ismail, Dolly and Amma. I never called her ‘Amma’ like Ismail and Dolly, but I always felt her to be the same.

I stood up and walked towards the door to call them in. It would be hard for them to hear it, but they must have anticipated the same by now. I was sad that my father died, but somehow, I was happy. Was that weird? I still wonder! While I was opening the door from inside, a quick thought came to my mind:

A moment in love is worth more than an entire loveless lifetime.
Written as Prompted in:
Tell a Tale: Week # 4
One Single Impression: Prompt 58 (Listening)
3. 3 Words Wednesday: CXXXII(Flirt, Ploy, Stunning)

4. ABC Wednesday: Round 4: L is for.... Last Meeting

A footnote: Writing short story is fun and I really like it. But at times, the words fail to convey many things. A person from my part of the world will understand that Sudipto is a Bengali Hindu name while Ismail and Md. Haroon Anwar Nawab are Muslim names. The story is of a person who comes to see his dying father. He is a Hindu, while his father and the family is Muslim. He might have converted to a Hindu or may be off a different Hindu mother. This is the backdrop, which was not much clear from the story. I think it may not be clear to people reading it from different parts of the world. So, I wanted to mention this here.

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Tuesday, April 7, 2009


I was not satisfied with the First poem that I wrote here. A few thought, I felt were unexpressed. So, I wrote a new one and this time, tried to follow a Monorhyme form too. Hope you like both the poems.

Feelings so deep
Real they are
I want you to know.
Every step I take
Nears me to you,
Deciphers your thoughts
Silently, my love!
Hope you’ll stay
In all the storms of life
Pleased and by my side!


Forever and a day
Rule my heart, if you may
In every possible way.
Eager to know what you’ll say
Needless to allay!
Don’t go away.
Silly it sounds, but hey
Hear am I to you, all the way
I love you, and again I say
Pal, please stay!

Written as prompted in Acrostic Only (Friendship)
Also linked to: Monday Poetry Train Revisited #22

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Saturday, April 4, 2009


The Email:
Dear Miss Swarnalatika,

Hope this finds you in good mood. I am writing this in regards with the contract that we both have signed a couple of years ago. Hope you remember all the terms and conditions in the contract; I guess you do. Well, this email is to re-mention that the contract is over now and I am sure we do not want to renew the same. So, here I call off the contract. I have paid you enough, in fact more than what was decided upon. Hope you have no grudges (at least) on that now.

Well, it was a wonderful year and I enjoyed your company a lot. Wish I could tell the same about you. You can tell about that better. Your dedication towards your job was admirable and enviable.

I wish to take this opportunity to thank you for your commitment and the level of tolerance and patience that you showed while you were alongside.

Wishing you all the best for your future,
Mr. Rashaal

The Reply:
Respectable Mr. Rashaal,

Thank you for your email. I was about to write about the contract myself, but I did not get enough time these days. Also, I was not sure if we will renew the contract. To tell you the truth, I always felt that you will want to renew the contract yourself, but then, even with the amount of devotion, loyalty and affection that I have shown during the period (that you have also mentioned in your email about), I could not make a niche for myself in your heart. I feel I was always a contracted worker to you; more after receiving your email. Thanks for opening my eyes.

Yes, I enjoyed your company too. I wanted to thank you for that too – for choosing me to be in your contract. The two years of being a contractual wife has given me a lot – a lot of money, a lot of togetherness and of course, a lot of emotional attachments too. I would not forget it in the rest of my secluded and insignificant life. I have done whatever I could do to make everyone feel like I am your real wife. Even your Dad did not question me – neither did your relatives. Everybody knows me as your wife, as Mrs. Latika Rashaal Mukherjee. Hope you have a good reason to tell them, of our separation or of my demise! Whatever!

Anyways, I will not take more money than what was in our contract. I have calculated the amount and I am returning the excess amount in form of a cheque. Trust me, there is no emotional attachment with that. For, money has not been my weak point anytime. I did not come to you for merely money; but I guess you would never be able to know what I came here for. I have given it everything I had – everything, only if you could understand!

Thanks for everything that you have given me. I was wrong in asking you for anything else, as you do not have anything else to give me too. I understand all of you now, as always.

There is one more thing I wanted to tell you, before I say goodbye. I have no hard feelings for you. Nothing in particular; nothing in general!

Have a prosperous and love filled life.

Yours ever faithful,

PS: Say my 'Hi' to Sujata and please mention that I do not have any hard feelings for her too. Whatever she has told was all correct; she showed me who I am – I seemed to have forgotten that of late. And I did not take her diamond necklace; you know that the best. Anyways, hope my cheque helps you.

Inspired By Some Movies...

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Friday, April 3, 2009

I will be what you want

She says I need to grow up.
Now, how do I know if I have really grown up?
I don’t know how was all well earlier. So strange!
I am as I am now but she asks me to change.

How long should I walk
To become a man?
And after I reach
Will I remain Tan?

Will you still love me
If I really change
Or will still search for me
In my exchange?

How long should I live
To have lived long?
Will you be with me
And walk along?

How do I love you
To have loved you right?
Should I be the patsy
Or a burly knight?

Will you ever tell me
How should I be?
I will be what you want
In loving thee.

=== :) ===

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Thursday, April 2, 2009

An Appointment

“I had a crush when I was in college,” she said as she was cleaning the morning dishes.

He did not notice. He was too busy browsing through the morning paper. It looks like the market was to go down further. He sipped on his juice and looked deeper into the editor’s column.

“He is here today; on a business trip; wishes to come down. I called him for lunch.” She pulled the chair next to him and sat with a bang and a futile frown on her face.

“Did you hear that?”

“What? Oh! Yes, I did.”

She smiled holding the last end of her sari and trying to chew it. He stands up throwing the newspaper on the dining table and looks busy.

“Ok, I’m off now.”

He prepares to leave. She extends his briefcase as he fastens his tie. She came till the door to see him off.

“What should I wear?”


Her eyebrows came closer. He could perceive it.

“I mean, anything that would look great on you. After all, you are my wife and moreover, you two might be meeting after a long time, isn’t it sweetie?”

“Yes, after eight years almost!” she exclaims.

He moves towards his car, but stops before getting in and comes back to the door, where she was standing.

“You look good in anything you wear,” he extols her. She smiles at him; her eyes were dreamy.

“Ahem! You did not ask me to come back early today.”

“Oh! Yes,” she says as if she wakes up from a dream. “Come back soon darling. I will ask him to stay back till you come so that you can meet him. Try to come early.”

She tells all these in haste. He looked at her wistful eyes and grinned; and moves again towards the car and stops and turns back.

“What is his…”

“Hmm… Mainaak. Mainaak Sutrodhar.” She almost shouted the name.

He smiles; turned to the car and drove away to office with varied thoughts in mind.

It was almost noon. The environment was frozen and silent like a desert. The main door was closed as usual. The windows were unusually closed too. He came back from office abnormally earlier today. He walked up to the main door and raises his hand to press the calling bell; but then he thought to take a peep in if possible. He checks the windows nearby, but they were closed. There was no chance of him to have a look in. he left the idea and came back to the main door and pressed the door bell.

Ting tong! Ting tong!

Absolute silence! No one attended to his calling. He pressed the bell once again. Same result. His wife has this knack of sleeping in the noon; but then, today she was to be busy with her friend.

“Did she get too busy?” The thought itself startled his mind and he pressed the calling bell a few more times, when the door flung open.

His wife comes out with a dreary face, wearing a bath gown and the weirdest dyed face pack. He almost fainted; but was relieved too, for unknown reasons. His distress and reprieve were both visible on his face.

“Come in,” she smiled and moved away from the door.

“I forgot my meeting…”


“Yes; my meeting files. These are very important, so…”

“So you thought to return home and take them yourself.”

“Yes, absolutely! How do you guess?”

She bursts into a huge laughter, as if she is in a circus and he was the best clown in the town. Rather, she was looking like a clown herself and he was looking like a lost kid. He did not know if he should laugh, but tried to join her in her mirth. She could see all of it in his face.

“Darling,” she says as she hugs him, “you are the best husband in the world and the cutest too.”
He is still speechless; trying to avoid the face pack and hug her.

“Where is your friend? He was supposed to…”

“Wish you a very happy April Fool’s Day, love. I love you.” She keeps on laughing as she utters those words.

“I love you, too.” He hugs her tight; her face pack was all over his face now, as they kiss.

Written as Prompted in:
Tell a Tale: Week # 3
2. 3WW CXXXI (Crush, Knack, Varied)

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काश, you were near!

तारीफ़ क्या करूँ, ए हुस्नवाले
जब से पाया है तुझको नज़रों में
तारीफ़ क्या करूँ, ए हुस्नवाले
दिल हुआ तेरे हवाले
अब चाहे तू हमे भूले
हम मिलेंगे तुझे हजारों में
तारीफ़ क्या करूँ, ए हुस्नवाले
जब से पाया है तुझको नज़रों में

If you would have had a few more moments for me
If you could just wait for long
I would paint my love for you to see
If you would have had a few more moments for me
I could have brought the whole world to thee
I would have sung you a beautiful song
If you would have had a few more moments for me
If you could just wait for long

ये हमारी मुलाकाते
कितनी अधूरी सी है
तुमसे कहनी है जो बातें
ये हमारी मुलाकाते
काटे कटे नहीं ये रातें
पास हो कर भी दूरी सी है
ये हमारी मुलाकाते
कितनी अधूरी सी है

In a world so small
I wish to live with you
In a world so small
Together, we stand tall
And after all
I wish to die with you
In a world so small
I wish to live with you

क्या तुमसे कहूँ
दिल में जो तूफ़ान है
मैं कैसे कहूँ
क्या तुमसे कहूँ
या चुप ही रहूँ
दिल में जो अरमान है
क्या तुमसे कहूँ
दिल में जो तूफ़ान है

There's no one here
Just you and me
There's no fear
There's no one here
We are so near
Nothing else we could see
There's no one here
Just you and me

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Wednesday, April 1, 2009

A Different Letter

Dear Love,

I don't really know how to tell you this, but I wanted to say how much I love you. I think I realized it that I care for you more than anything else, even the brightest of diamonds and I saw you staring at me too, at times when we were not alone. I'm sure you're explicable enough to understand how I feel for you. I'm returning your stares to you, but I'll keep your thoughts as a memory. You should also know that I like the way you talk with your b-e-a-utiful eyes and I will wait for the day when you will come out of the swathe and spell all that you have in your heart.

Hope I need not wait for too long,
Yours Lover
Written as prompted in: My WoRLd iN WorDs
Visit the link to know about the Different Letter and feel free to write something similar and post the link there. You may like to share it with me too ;)

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तेरी निगाह

तेरी हर बात में मुझे प्यार नज़र आता है
तेरी हर मुस्कान पे जान निसार करना चाहता हूँ
तेरी होटों में मुझे इकरार नज़र आता है
तेरी हर बात में मुझे प्यार नज़र आता है
तेरी निगाह कुछ बेकरार नज़र आता है
तेरी हर नज़र में मैं प्यार भरना चाहता हूँ
तेरी हर बात में मुझे प्यार नज़र आता है
तेरी हर मुस्कान पे जान निसार करना चाहता हूँ ...

I tried to write a triolet in Hindi here. I always try to experiment with different forms of poetry and story writing. I enjoy writing in all the languages I know. I started writing in Bengali and English and later on, I moved to Hindi too. I will try to write a few more Hindi poems following different styles. Let’s see if my readers like my trials.
Well, enjoy reading me!

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