Where are you?

Click on the Picture to Enlarge.

Continue reading...

বৈঠা হারানো আমার ভাঙা নৌকা।

Click on the Picture to Enlarge

The same post is available here

Continue reading...

পথে পথে – দিকে দিকে

পথে পথে – দিকে দিকে
আমারই এ’ পথ চলা,
ক্ষণে ক্ষণে – মনে মনে
এ’ কার সাথে কথা বলা?

খুঁজে পেয়েছিলাম যারে পথের বাঁকে
ভেবেছিলাম করবো আপন তাকে –
ভাবিনি এত সহজে সে হারাবে,
রাতের আগেই ফুরোবে বেলা।

মন চেয়েছিল যেতে সুদুরে
বেঁধে রেখেছিলাম খাঁচার ভেতরে –
মানলো না, সে তো উড়ে গেল,
বুঝলো না প্রেমের বিশেল জ্বালা।

(July 10, 2005 / Siliguri)

Continue reading...

For me, forever!

And there was this fairy, with a magic wand in her hand, who wanted to write her own story. She started writing on a piece of cloud, with a piece of sandal wood and rains as the ink; but every time she would start to write, she would end up crying, for she had no story to tell; for she was alone in this world. She had none with her to share her thoughts and she felt alone. She cried her heart out. She thought of her childhood and her life till now. She had kept herself busy waving her magic wand over the heads of poor and deserted people and making them happier in life – she was left alone – abandoned! She cried again.

Then she saw me. I was having everyone with me – my friends, my siblings, my parents and my stories! I was a truly happy kid, I mean, a boy (by the time we met). She came to me and asked me to tell me my stories, so that she can write them on the clouds. I told her many of my stories – the way I caught that dragon fly the other day beside our pond; the night I was left with all the gifts and sweets, before my 7th birthday; the day when I first went to school and the day I saw our cow and her newborn for the first time. She was happy after hearing all those. She held my hand and took me up, in the clouds. She made me sit on one while she pulled one for herself. Then she took the biggest cloud around and started writing my stories on it with a piece of sandal wood and rains as the ink. She wrote all my stories. She included my first visit to the church and my last days in my village. She wrote everything I told her. She was too good at writing. I loved it. I loved her. I told her. She smiled. She liked me too. I wanted to marry her. She agreed and she took her magic wand and waved over me – nothing happened. She waved it again – still no go. I did not change into a pigeon or a donkey. I did not understand what she was trying to do, for she was a fairy and she could do what I could not even think of. She tried a few times and gave up. She said that we cannot marry as she was a fairy and I was not. I understood that she wanted to make me a fairy too – but this time, her magical wand could do nothing to change me into one. She looked at me. I looked at her. I was going to say something, before I return to my home. She put her soft tiny hands over my lips and stopped me. I could utter no word. She smiled at me and threw her magic wand into the cloud on which she was writing the stories. The wand vanished and so did her fairy dress and wings. Her looks changed. She was just like me. She held my hand again and said in the loveliest voice ever, “I love you. Come.” And we stepped down from the clouds together. We could see the clouds around us – leaving us. We sped down the forest of clouds without hitting a single chunk of them. When we landed there, just outside the sweetest place on earth, she led me in to a house, made of biscuits and breads. I went in to see the most beautiful house in the world. She cooked me a cake and some pasta. I ate with delight. After I ate, she had me sleep on the bed of flowers with petals all over it. She sang me the sweetest of songs I ever heard and I fell asleep.

When I woke up, I could see her nowhere near me. She left! I came out of the house screaming. I looked all around and she was not to be found. I was almost crying when I heard her voice from behind the house near the stream. She had only gone for a pale of water – for me. She saw me sitting on the mud and crying for her. She took me by my face and put it on her chest. She promised she would never leave me – not for anything; not for anyone. She told that she was mine – forever. From that moment in life, I am always happy. She is still there with me. She will always be there – for me, forever!

Continue reading...

A Small Halt

The bus stopped with a sudden jerk, as my eyes opened. It was almost dawn and we reached the transit point between Assam and Tripura – Churaibari, the place where every bus has to stop for clearance, before they can enter Tripura or go out of the state. The place was almost barren. There was nothing except the small Police Post, a tiny puncture shop and a still smaller tea stall where everyone went for washing their tired faces and probably, for a cup of tea and some cookies. Well, that’s all you would get there. A few hawkers were walking around with their goods – cucumber, masala muri or chanachur, boiled eggs and jackfruits. Nobody had the urge to eat those things at this early hour in the day. Even the hawkers knew that, I felt, for they were not shouting as much. Maybe they were saving the energy for the long day to come. The busses will come and leave, but they have to stay awake as late till midnight and get up again this time tomorrow. Most of the passengers were sluggish to get down from their seats. It was not light as yet. It was hot, but the dawn brought along a cool breeze that somehow made its way through the broken glass window panes of the bus. A few commuters went down and stretched themselves, after the night long slumber. On the way down, one of them came to me and asked if I have a matchbox. I realized that I can do well with a smoke too. I went down, lit the cigarette and looked up, as I smoked out. There was a ray of twilight coming from behind the bus, standing next to us. I showed the same to the man in his mid thirties, who looked at it but did not show any interest whatsoever. I wanted to see the sky more closely. And I walked down the road and tried to see through the windows of that bus, when I saw her for the first time. She was also travelling the same route, just behind me for almost 15 hours now and I am seeing her for the first time. What a shame! I came close to the window as the cigarette smoked itself, to have a closer look. She was asleep, wrapped up in that green blanket. I could see only her gorgeous face, with the same glow which felt like a bud, about to bloom. She did not move; her nostrils were still; the locks of hair on her face were brushing the lips, but she did not move. I threw the cigarette butt – it was useless to hold it when you are not smoking. I just wanted to call her, but my jaws were stuck. Suddenly my bus woke up and gave a nasty call – I had to go now, but can’t I talk to her for a moment? Can I just ask how she is and go? Nope. There was no time and it was too late. My mate in the bus popped out his head from the window and waved at me; my bus was about to leave. I looked at her for one last time – she was calm, relaxed and silent, unaware of any movement around her. The eyes would not open to see me, not even once. The helper swung himself out of the door and waved at me for the last time. The final call! I had to go and I left. I jumped in as the bus crossed the boundary slowly. It is going to run like hell once it crosses the border area. It would not wait for me. It would not wait for her, to come close to us. Her bus might have come here 15 minutes later and this distance in time will be maintained till we reach Agartala. I am not sure where she will get down. I could not think who will be waiting for her there. All I was able to think was her flawless face – I wish she would open her eyes for once. My mate asked in that grave voice of his, “Was there anybody in there, you know?” I was taken aback by this question. Never felt he would talk to me, after this long speechless journey. I don’t know if he heard my answer. I murmured within, “Yes, my wife - my ex wife!” and closed my eyes.

Continue reading...

Cats in Rain (Raining Cats)

[Another Story posted in The Writer's Lounge]

~~*!!(O!$!O)!!*~~

The mother’s lap was very cozy. She did not want to move out. It was almost evening and Mom will soon go out to fetch food. She would be left alone. She wanted to remain inside her fur and enjoy the warmth for as long as possible; but she could not. The mother suddenly rose from her nap and stood up. She looked around with suspicion and searched for something unknown. Cats are always like that. The little kitten has seen it happen when the neighbor’s bull dog comes down for a stroll, but this time, she was unsure of what the matter really was. She peeped out and saw – raindrops! It has started to drizzle. There was a fear in her mother’s eyes. Rain in the evening means there would be no outing for mother tonight, which means there will be no catch, which means they have to sleep without food yet another night. Oh! How much would she want the rains to stop! She is still young, and cannot go out with mother to hunt; yet she thinks she should at least do something to stop it from raining. She sneaked a look out of the old jeep ruins and looked up. It was real cloudy today; it was almost dark. She was about to come out of their shed, which they called home, but her mother’s paw stopped her from going out. The drizzle was gaining might. The mother would not let her child to go out. They looked at each other. Both were hungry. The mother could see it in her eyes. She was all prepared to go out and fetch some food for dinner; but it is raining now. Where would she go and what would she hunt? It was not unusual for her to go without food at night; but those were different days. Her daughter’s father was around and he would render all love and protection. They would go wild teasing, chasing and loving each other and running around the jeep and the hedge nearby. They never felt hunger then. Now, it is a different situation – she has her little kitten to feed. She cannot let her go without food – not even in this downpour. She looked at her. The kitten gave an empty look. She looked up once and sprang out of the shed. The little kitten kept staring at her – mum.

Continue reading...

A Visit!

[Backdrop: I was going through this blog – The Writers Lounge, may be a 20 minutes ago. The very first post was a challenge – asking the blog members to write a story in not more than 400 words about Rain. I found it challenging too. It took me to my old days, when I used to write a page length story in Bengali, for which I got family wide recognition. I thought of giving it a go right away. And here, is the story – of a rainy evening, somewhere in Europe.]

It was raining cats and dogs when I left home. I was hurrying through the drenched streets and making my way to where she lives now. She would be waiting, I knew. She would be getting wet too. I took the raincoat, but forgot the hat – was in such a hurry. Took a bunch of yellow tulips from the florist at the corner; she loves these. I moved nearer to her place. Making my way through the fleeing crowd was toil. I hid the flowers inside the raincoat, hoping they would not get soaked. And I rushed through. Many of the folks had umbrellas. Hush! Why did I not bring mine? – I thought. This small kid, walking with her dog in her lap was trying to get underneath her mother’s umbrella. She was playing hide and seek with the rain and getting drenched – the mother was too hasty to look back at her, as she passed me. Hope they live nearby. The other couple was too busy in each other that they could not see the rushing limousine. And as I thought, the car splashed all the water unto them. They looked at themselves, then the passing car, then at each other and laughed. Weirdoes! They found another excuse to hold each other more tightly. All the people were either walking swiftly towards their destination or running towards a nearby hideout. None had time to look at anyone; neither did I. She was waiting! I hurried faster. I did not have time to enjoy the rainfall. I thought of enjoying the shower together with her. It took me another couple of minutes to be there. I reached her place just in time. I went past her mates in there – they had no visitors. I was the only one there – wet, but happy. I could see the bluish cross – no mistake, it’s her! I went near; sat by her grave. It was all sodden in this evening London rain. I took out the flowers and laid them by her chest. She felt it close to her heart – still thumping as mine. I felt she cried in bliss, that I could make it on her 87th forgotten birthday – even in this downpour. Tears were in my eyes too, but thanks to the raindrops – I went unnoticed.

Continue reading...

Its cold here again tonight

Its cold here again tonight
And I feel so lost,
The buildings, the church, the trees stand alone
Waiting for the frost.

The window pane, the nearby lane
Look at each other in despair,
They are together, for all these years
But, never they could come near.

Its cold here, and its almost midnight
And I am out, in the road
The passer bys, a couple of them
Looked at me with a node.

I wanted to greet, but I didn't
They were running swiftly too,
Someone flew, grinning at me
Why should I care, who?

Its cold here again tonight
And I don’t have a place to go,
I am walking alone, shivering within
Its only that I don’t show.

A tear fell, from my eyes, I suppose
And went straight down the beard,
The hearts are breaking; the legs are shaking,
But nothing could be heard.

Its cold here again tonight
And I am missing you as ever,
You are, of course not to be found
Not here, not there, not anywhere…
Continue reading...

दिल का कारवाँ लूट गया

दिलके टुकरे हो गए तो
अश्क़ ये निक्ल परे
जो बोये सो पाया हैं हमने
अब कैसी शिकायत करे

जीन गलिओं में
हम चले थे
हर मोर पे ठोकर मिला
जिस् चमन का
माली बने हम
एक भी न फूल खिला
वास्ता दे किस्को अपनी प्यार का
कौन हैं जो मेरी वफ़ा पे गौर करे ...

सब कुछ लूटाके
देखा हमने
दिल का कारवाँ लूट गया
देखा था जिस्मे
सुन्हेरे सपने
वोही शीशा टूट गया,
रहा ना जगमे कोई अपना या पराया
किस्को समझाए, किस्के आगे हाथ जोरे ...
Continue reading...