Two Worlds

The two worlds of our life,
Close together, yet so far apart;
Entwined in deathly embrace
The moment we walked in the door.

Two worlds of disparate equalities
Of truth, lies, hope and delusion
Where the glory and the sheen
Are as real as unshed tear-drops.

Worlds that are manifestations
Of a single basic reality;
Yet so alarmingly alienated
Depending on your vantage point.

But then what is the reality
Cruel cut-throat competition;
Or the soul-search for truth
In Hendrix's flaming guitar?

But then can we really answer,
Is it really possible to know;
Whether the psychedelic Floyd
Can drown out fits of failure?

Who would heed the questions
Asked on grass past midnight;
When smoky curtains lend lucidity
And thoughts run wild and free?

But wait, heed not the ramble
It's all a purely passing phase
For it's hard to be bothered
When you live on instant noodles

But hold on still, take a care,
Many a revolution were lead
And won, on half empty tea-cups
And a fag dangling on the lips.

So there may still be a chance
That we seek Paradise City
A dream, a new world Utopia,
Not to be found but built.

Who knows, may be we have a lot
Or may be have nothing at all
Or is it just that after all,
We have left passion behind?

May be there is no need to worry
And all our tensions unfounded;
All this be but mere illusions
Revealed from the world outside.

The world outside appears a desert
Yet all we do is keep checking
If the grass in the inner world
Is greener on the other side.

It's into this death-dealing desert
We will soon have to walk out to
Once we have finally taken our pick
On whichever shackles we fancy

Lives will be lived on schedule
Days will be governed by rules;
Eight-to-eight, or maybe all-nighters,
Or whichever is the new nine-to-five.

The seed of rebellion lays dormant
Rarely stirring with the life-force,
No longer nourished in this world
While we keep walking to our graves.

We go round in endless circles
Searching for our own self,
In the maze we like to call
The two worlds of our life.

Desolate Nights - একাকী রাত

আমার জীবনের অন্তরঙ্গ সঙ্গী
অনেক অনেক একাকী রাত
যখন অন্ধকারের আড়ালে
সব আবরণ ছেড়ে ফেলে
সম্পূর্ণ নগ্ন, অনাবৃত
আয়েনার সামনে দাড়াই
দৈনন্দিন জীবনের অভিনয়ের মাঝে
নিজেকে বারে বারে মনে করিয়ে দিতে
কোনটা আসল আর কোনটা নকল
কারণ মনের মাঝে একটি সংশয়
হাজার মেকি মুখোশের মাঝে
নিজের আসল চেহারা হারিয়ে না যায়ে
ওই একাকী রাতের আড়ালে
উঠে আসে কত স্মৃতি বিস্মৃতি
কিছু অশ্রু ভেজা খুশি
আর হাসি মাখা কান্না
কিছু হারিয়ে যাওয়া হাথের স্পর্স
যা অনেক ক্ষত-চিহ্নর চেও গভীর
প্রায়ই এ অভিজ্ঞতা আমাকে ভিত করে
মনে হয়ে নিষ্টুর সত্যর থেকে
মুখোসের আড়াল ই তো শ্রেয়
তাও আবার কোনো এক একাকী রাতে
সব পিছুটান ফেলে রেখে আমি আর এক বার
নিজেই নিজেকে কাঠগড়ায়ে দাড় করাই

Humanity - মানব-ধর্ম

ভেতরে এসে বস বাবু,

বাইরে যে হলো অন্ধকার

ডাকলো ফের মা আমায়

এলো বন্ধ করতে দ্বার

আর একটু দাড়াও না মা

তুমিও বস এসে পাশে

বললাম আমি মা কে

যদি বাবা ফিরে আসে

জেদ করে না লক্ষী সোনা

মা বলল লুকিয়ে চোখের জল

অনেকক্ষণ তো বসলি উঠোনে

এবার সোনা ভেতরে চল

এরম কেটেছে কত সন্ধে

বসে পথ চেয়েছি বারে বার

ফেরেনি তবুও বাবা কোনদিন

জানি, সে ফিরবে নাকো আর

বহুদিন পর জানতে পেরেছি

কি নৃসংশ ছিল বাবার মৃত্যু

কত হাজার বছর পেরিয়ে এসে

আজও মানুষ মানুষের শত্রু

সুধু একটি ভুল করেছিল তারা

ছিল না দোষ কোনো অন্য

মা বাবার হৃদয় হয়েছিল এক

হায়, যদিও ধর্ম ছিল ভিন্ন

সেই ভুল এর মাশুল গুনতে

দিতে হয়েছিল বাবা কে প্রাণ

পালিয়ে বেঁচেছিল মা কোনমতে

লুকিয়ে করেছিল আমায়ে জন্মদান

করে সহ্য অনেক কষ্ট 

দিনের পর দিন লড়াই করে

কত অপমান নির্বাক সয়ে

মা আমায়ে বড় করে

সুধু একটা কথা আমায়

মা সেখাত বারে বার

মাথা উঁচু করে বাঁচবে,

মানবে না কোনো দিন হার

সেই শিক্ষাই পেয়েছি আমি

জেনেছি পরিচয় দেয় কর্ম

আশা রাখি আসবে এমন দিন

যখন সেটাই হবে মানব-ধর্ম

Dawn

I had been awake the whole night
All the while thinking only of you
Of the very many days of distance
And the days of nearness so few.

I was standing by the open window
Night had not touched the bed,
The dawn was breaking yonder
The east skies where painted red.

The world was new and fresh
The dew had washed them all;
The green leaves and black stones
And the spring-time water-fall.

The living world was up and about
The birds filled the air with song;
Songs of wordless sweet melodies
That Mother-Earth sang along.

A new day was upon us all
In all its untamed glory, too;
How I wished from my heart
To share this sight with you.

So, I give you this breaking dawn
I give my whole life to you,
Everything that is dear to my heart,
And all that I ever held true...

www.life.com

It had long been a game of mine to look myself up on Google. I prided myself on the fact that, despite having a fairly common name, most of the results on the first page referred to my own web presence; my social media pages, my tech-blog, references to my research publications and even a few news articles on the path breaking research I was an integral part of. 

It was my last day at the US university I had attended for my post graduate and doctoral studies and I was returning to India as one of the youngest doctorate from this prestigious Alma Mater. With packing done and still about two hours to go for the pick-up, I decided to get back to my favourite game. 

"One last time on the campus network," I mused, and switched on my laptop. 

Suddenly, out of a whim, I decided to give myself a break and look up my friends from the undergrad days in India for a change. It was three and a half year since I had left India, and already many relationships had grown dim. There were friends I hadn't talked to in over a year; friends without whom even one day was unbearable at that god forsaken engineering college and hostel in the middle of nowhere. 

I smiled at the promises we had made with dreamy eyes; Sumit, Akash, Neha and me, Deep. Friendship for ever, in touch over chat, mail and Facebook, get-together every year; it all had vaporised into thin air as days rolled by. 

Akash was the only one I was faintly in touch with. He too had turned up in the US, albeit after a two year stint at a IT firm. "Saving up for my studies", he had said, when he had turned down my suggestion to apply for PhD in the US, and taken the humble job in stead. 

It had pained me to think that the best brain in our college was going to be wasted, for people rarely had the will to return to studies once they started earning. But Akash had kept his promise and turned up at one of the top ranked Universities two years down the line. 

We had met once soon after Akash came to the US, but even that was over a year ago. Emails and phone calls were few and far between. But still I had kept hearing about him once in a while. And this Google search strengthened my notion. 

In the small span of less than two years, Akash was busy heading multiple projects and research aimed at making internet and telecom available and easy to use for all. He was clearly destined for great things and he had come a long way from his humble, single parent village upbringing. "If his work goes on in this fashion, he would soon be a household name across the world", I thought. 

I was thrilled at Akash's success. Deciding to give him a call before I left US soil, I now turned to Sumit. Sumit the Rebel, Sumit the freak, Sumit the Superhuman. 

It was a wonder how and why Sumit was in an Engineering college. All he cared about was his health, body building and sports. His dad was a wealthy businessman and kept his son 'well supplied'. Hence, he was our saviour whenever mess food became unpalatable; which happened pretty regularly, like any other hostel. He used to take us to the fruit juice stall outside the college and while we sipped the sweet juice, he himself chewed on the sugarcane directly. "Juice is for the sick and ailing, be a man", he used to scorn at us. We always ignored is remarks and preferred to concentrate on our glasses. 

Sumit never had good grades. And neither did he care. Akash and sometimes I were there to ensure that he at least did not flunk and that was enough for him. He represented the college in six different sports and won laurels in all. That kept him happy enough. 

It was Sumit who had introduced the group to Facebook. So I decided to look him up there first. At first, I found it hard to believe what I saw. The lean, mean fighting machine, that's how Sumit referred to himself, looked more like a rounded meatball. Only his bright eyes and ever present smile seemed to be the saving grace. He had failed to grab a job offer on campus, which hardly worried him, as he anyway would have gone on to join his father in their family business. We had rarely been in touch since. 

As I scanned through Sumit's photos in disbelief at what less than half a decade of business life had done to him, a bigger shock awaited me. I found an album full of Sumit's engagement photographs. And the fiancee was non other than our very own Neha. 

Neha, the anti-thesis of the modern urban Indian girl. The make-up less, uncombed hair, jeans kurti clad warrior for the basic rights of every human being. The girl who voiced her opinion on every matter of person, organization, state or nation. The girl who fought for every cause and never ever gave up. The girl who opted out of campus placements and chose to teach children in a village school. The girl who openly admired Akash for his struggle for excellence and secretly loved him for it. 

Neha looked so out of sorts in those pictures; all decked up and laden with jewellery. And it turned out she had got herself a Facebook page as well. "Marriage change people", I thought, "So Facebook is no longer a silly 'bourgeois' luxury to you any more, is it?" Well, when your soon-to-be husband was an out-n-out capitalist, those sentiments no longer make sense I guess. 

It is from her Facebook page that I got to know that she and Sumit were planning to settle down in Europe. Things like women's empowerment and education for all were surely things from a distant past for her now. 

"So much has changed, we all have moved on so much in life. I wonder what they would have so say about me and my current life." 

During our college days I had been the first one to profess a desire to escape from India; from its poverty, corruption and all other problems. And yet today, I was refusing major offers from US corporate houses and universities to return to my nation as a research scientist for a Govt. funded research centre. During our college days Neha had at some point of time kindled a spark within me with her speeches. That spark had caught fire during my stay in the US and today it was and all consuming fire burning within me. A desire to be a worthy son of my motherland filled my heart. 

It pained me to think that as the fire kindled in my heart, it fizzled from that of Neha. And suddenly, I remembered Ananya. Strange are the tricks our minds play on us. I had no idea why I had thought of her apart from the fact that it was Neha who had introduced her, there was no other connection. 

Coming to think of it, I realised that every detail of meeting Ananya was still vividly etched in my memory. Given that it was four years ago and that I had known her for a total of no more than 12 hrs, that was saying something. 

We had met at our annual college fest. It was our final year at college and with the placement tensions over, we had all let our hairs down. Ananya was a guest at someone else's invitation, but found her friend more engrossed in her own boyfriend and somehow ended up striking a friendship with Neha. One thing led to another and she landed in our group for the day. 

There was an instant chemistry between the two of us. We seemed to have so much in common. "Picture perfect masala bollywood movie", Neha teased us. We were enjoying each other's company so much, we simply laughed at the joke. We danced away the night. The rhythm and beat flooded our veins. 

Sadly, all good things end. It was dawn and time for her to go. She had to take an early bus to be in time for her college. As we waited at the Bus stand, she kissed me goodbye. It seemed the most natural thing to do, and yet it was as surreal as it could be. The bus arrived soon and she departed. There were tears in our eyes and smiles on our lips.

I still felt like in a trance when the four of us had met up for breakfast. "So lover boy, did you take her contact?" Sumit asked me. My blank stare was answer enough. Even Neha knew little more than what the rest of us did. She had left me behind with a name, town and date of birth. 

I really felt miserable for the first few days. I kept on wondering how she must have been waiting all the time for me ask for her number. But I was too lost to realise. There was no point crying over split milk; yet many a tear-drops were shed. However, the end of college was nearing and there were too many emotions flowing around the myriad meandering of life to stay pent up in one. With time she had been relegated to some dusty attic in my mind; seldom, if ever, visited. 

What made me key in her name on Google today I will never know. But key in I did and the results were in front of me. The very first page was a matrimonial profile on one of the many such websites that had cropped all over the internet like mushrooms. I wistfully clicked on it. There were no pictures, but my eyes were fixed at the date of birth. My heart refused to believe that it was sheer coincidence. 

Scanning the site, I saw that a phone number was listed. This time I could not delay. With trembling hands I picked up the phone, and dialed...

Silence

Life was getting just too overwhelming,
Inundated in chaos, drowned by noise;
Desperate for an escape from this world,
I couldn't even listen to my own voice.

I chose to be a recluse, a world of my own,
A world without Saints and beyond Sin;
So I built towering walls all around me,
All alone, I just closed myself within.

I shut the doors, blocked out the sights,
The world was now a distant fading past;
Was finally starting to enjoy the silence,
The frayed nerves were soothed at last.

But peace did not stay, silence got dreary,
And thoughts in my mind were now chained;
All I heard were eerie echoes of my voice,
Soothed nerves now started to be strained.

It no longer made sense to stay cooped up,
It was time to bring those walls down;
It was time to make my presence felt again,
And once more find my own niche in town.

Silence keeps playing its tricks on us all,
It always was a curse as well as a boon;
It appeared never too late to displease,
Its soothing touch was never too soon.

The Ride

Finally. Ah, finally after four months, I was back home and soon would be back on my bike. If you know the feeling, cheers; else, pity you. This is one relation where distance sure makes the heart grow fonder.

I stroked the seats lovingly. "Missed me, haven't you?", I smiled.

Mom was looking at me from the balcony. She shook her head exasperated, convinced that hostel life had turned her little boy into a lunatic. She pleaded, "Its just 5 am. Can't this wait? You reached home after midnight. Go get some sleep."

I looked up and smiled. She knew the discussion was over before it started. She ceded and went inside, returning to her long list of daily chores, before leaving for office. I wished to assure her that her son was still sane, just a bit love-struck; nothing to be alarmed of. But then that could wait.

I mounted the bike and inhaled the fresh morning breeze. Everything felt fresh and new. It was time to take out my darling for a date. But she decided she would behave like any other normally upset girlfriend and expose me to her mood-swings. She simply refused to start up.

I was dying to hear the sweet melody of the 150cc engine powering up to life. But no, she refused to speak to me. No matter how much I coaxed, pleaded and prodded, she just stood there silently. Things were not going to plan. I had to allay her pride and soon, if I had to have a refreshing ride before the glaring sun and the maddening crowd took over.

It was getting late and still she refused to budge. I had tried every trick in the trade. I even promised her shopping and jewellery, (well, servicing and accessories actually) but still no response. It seemed she was too upset at my four month long absence. I checked every gauge, wire and connection. She was perfectly fine; just acting prim.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone coming down the road. "Another health freak out for a morning walk," I thought, "And soon they will be out in hoards." My plan was all but down-the-drain. Distraught, I looked up, and then I saw her. It was as if the clocks had rolled back to a distant past, that had till then gone dim in the mists of time.

I really could not believe I was seeing her. Ten long years and yet time seemed to have stood still for her. The same square framed spectacles, the same waist length ponytail and the same lost look on the face. It could as well have been the day I was trying to convince her to try to ride my bicycle. Or even the day I first met her.

---

Relocating is a harrowing experience for kids; it's a truth few adults realize. It was no different for the eight year old me, who trudged to this MIG govt. housing complex with his parents in the suburbs of this Metropolitan Monster from the vast open fields and dusty by-lanes of the Steel town.

Dad had a promotion to get, Mom wanted a better school for me. The added allowances and both their increased salaries would take care of the additional expenses of owning a house. Better opportunities they said; plus there was no more rent to be paid on the first of every month. No one gave a thought to what I wanted.

At first, it was even more difficult than I ever imagined. Everything was new and unknown. And there was no one to share it with. The first day at the new school had gone anything but well, and there was no prospect that the evening would be any better. Mom had taken the day off from office and despite my protests, insisted on accompanying me to the locality playground and help me make friends.

It was there at that small playground that I first saw her. The sight of a spectacled girl with a long long ponytail playing cricket with boys, was one sight I had never seen before. Even later, after getting to know her so well, It was still something I found difficult to digest.

Mom went on introducing me to all the kids. "Mom, you can go back now. I will be fine," I pleaded. She made as if to return but stayed back a little further away. My day had not been any good so far and it was not going to improve any bit further. They took me to play with them and literally being the 'new-kid-on-the-block', gave me first bat. And I screwed it up. I was bowled first ball; and that too by a girl.

And yet, we struck on a friendship from that very first day. Maybe it was because the eight year old me had figured out that the only way to ensure that this was never repeated was to be in the same team with her from then on.

It was a mismatch of epic proportions. Here I was, missionary schooled, sports loving, daring, adventurous, always getting into trouble kind of a boy. She on the other hand was the darling girl of the most well to do family in the neighbourhood; going to the top regional board school in town, taking dance, music, art and what not lessons from morning to night. The only blip in her perfect repertoire was the love for cricket. I still have no idea how she managed to convince her parents to let her play with us. Their house was right next to the field, and the first lesson we kids learnt was to keep the ball as far away from their house as possible.

---

There is an old adage that says opposites attract; and we were bent on proving it. We were practically inseparable; spending whatever time we could together. She would often turn up at my home in the afternoons when I came back from school and have a late lunch with me. I had, on the other hand, never dared visit her home. At least not then.

We complimented each other perfectly. She used to teach me maths and science and helped me with my homework. I made her my confidante in every adventure I undertook; from stealing mango pickle in the sultry summer afternoons to climbing to the top of the water supply tank.

She was a brilliant student. I owed a lot to her in that department. It was her constant persuasion and clever anecdotes on science that led to me being in one of the few prestigious engineering colleges of our country. She made such mundane things like definitions and formulae interesting by attaching funny stories to them.

I on the other hand was the prime and only other source of fun apart from cricket. With time, I had slowly learnt to forget the fact that she was a girl and never gave a second thought to the dangers involved in our adventures.

It was my twelfth birthday when I got the biggest gift of my life. Dad had recently had a raise and bought me a bicycle for my birthday. I already knew to ride one; having learnt from my elder cousins when we went for a visit during the summer vacations. It was the proudest moment of my life and I could not wait to show it off to her.

The very next day, I was out with my brand new bicycle for a spin as soon as I got back from school. As I was coming out of our home, I found her coming towards me. I rushed to her and exclaimed, "Look I got a cycle for my birthday."

She was overjoyed at my happiness. She gave me a beautiful hand-made greetings card. She had made one for me every year since we met. They used to be my most cherished gift; but this year there was something better.

I decided the best course of action for the day was to teach her to ride a bicycle. There was nothing we did not share, after all. She was afraid at first but after a little convincing decided to give it a try. Soon she was getting the hang of it and, with her fears allayed, started to enjoy herself.

I was starting to get a bit impatient and wanted to get a ride myself. She was riding pretty well now and I ran behind her calling out, "Ok, my turn now." She seemed in no mood to stop and hence I reached out and grabbed the cycle from behind.

Things went horribly wrong from there on. She lost her balance and tripped. I could not hold on to the cycle and steady her. We fell down pretty badly. Her head hit a pavement brick and she fell unconscious.

I too was strongly shaken but not hurt in any way. I called her but she did not move. I tried to wake her up, and saw that her face was covered in blood. Her spectacles were shattered. There was a deep gash over her forehead. Brushing aside the panic that was setting in, I somehow picked her up and rushed her to her home.

It was her Dad who opened the door. She had, by then, come back to consciousness and was trembling in shock and fear. He gave a single look at us and called out to her mother to take her inside. Then he turned to me and said, "I don't want to see you ever again. Remember that." I was too afraid to say anything and ran back home.

It is said that trouble never comes alone. When Dad came home, he noticed that the cycle was not there. When he asked me where it was, I remembered that, in the rush I had completely forgotten about the cycle and left it laying on the road where we fell. It was already over three hours late and despite the obvious futility of the search, we went to look for it and as expected, it was nowhere to be found.

Dad had never scolded me. And he did not break the rule that day. After hearing the entire episode from me, all he said was, "Think over what you have done. Not only were you irresponsible about hard earned things, but you also did not pay attention to the safety of your friends. Do you realize your mistakes?"

---

All that seemed a long time ago now and a lot of water had flowed under the bridge since then. She stopped coming to our house or to the evening games at the playground. Or anywhere else for that matter. I too was upset with myself and distraught at having lost the best friend, the only real friend I ever had. I buried myself in studies and did well enough to land myself in a prestigious engineering college in a far away place. Slowly over time the memories had began to fade as I started getting involved in other things.

She, on the other hand, went on staying cooped up at her house. We had hardly met after that day and never spoke to each other again. I seldom heard any news about her except when she ranked among the top ten in the state at the board exams or when she featured in the local newspapers for winning the some music contests. Life had well and truly separated us with an insurmountable barrier.

I was surprised how vivid the memories still were even after so many years. I thought I had gotten over them in the hustle we call Life. I was under the impression that all I cared for now was Engineering College, hostel life, my hostel buddies, the prospect of joining the lucrative job I had been offered, another six months down the line. And yes, my beauty, my bike; bought with my own money from last summer's internship earnings. The only beacon from past were the four hand-made greetings cards tucked away safely among my personal belongings. But things were somehow going haywire within my head. There was a hollow, a fathomless pit nothing could fill.

Pulling myself out of the reminiscence, I found that she had walked up to me. She too seemed lost in memories at this unexpected encounter. But somehow she looked more desperate than the normal lost and faraway look she always wore. It seemed to me that there was something else that was worrying her.

She seemed to brush aside the indecision in her mind and blurted out to me, "Dad is not well. Can you take me to a doctor? Mom left home and went away yesterday; left a note saying, Don't come looking for me. She had gotten fed up with the constant fights with Dad. Dad is devastated. He has been crying all night. Despite his hard exterior, he loves us a lot."

My mind was still in a whirlwind, but I knew what needed to be done right now. I jumped onto my bike and said, "Hop on." Somehow, I knew I only had to push the self start button. My darling will listen to me now. This is going to be a smooth ride.

New Story - नयी कहानी

चलेंगे जहाँ ले चले यह ज़िंदगी
बह चलेंगे इन लहरो के सहारे
चाहे बीत जाए कितने लम्हें
चाहे छूट जाए सारे किनारे

सपनो को पिरोके सच के धागे में
सज उठेगा हर दिन अपने दम पर
ज़िन्दगी चलेगी अपने शर्तों पे
होगी ख़ुशी की जीत गम पर

महक उठेगी यह दुनिया हमारी
हर पल कर चलेगी हमे दीवानी
रोज़ होगी एक नयी शुरुआत
लिख्हेंगे रोज़ एक नयी कहानी

Trade

Would you make a deal,
If you knew the risks involved?
Would you face your Nemesis
To get all your problems solved?

Would you exchange;
Would you take tears for gems?
Would you confront your fears
And wipe out from whence it stems?

Would you choose your means,
Whether it be beg, borrow or steal?
Or would you give up your wants
To truly get to know what you feel?

Would you readily trade;
Would you give up today for tomorrow?
Would you live for a dream,
And willingly trade happiness for sorrow?

Wish - ইচ্ছে

আমি মহাকাশের বুকে নক্ষত্র হতে চাই
এক ক্ষুদ্র নিহারিকা এই বৃহত সংসারে
তুমি সূর্য হয়ে রাঙিয়ে দেবে ভোরের আকাশ
তোমার আলোয় বিলীন হয়ে যাব বারে বারে

আমি হতে চাই এক ক্ষুদ্র বালির কনা
দিগ্বন্ত বিস্তীর্ণ কোনো নির্জন মরুপ্রান্তরে
তুমি ঝর হয়ে উড়িয়ে নিয়ে যাবে আমায়ে
রেখে যাবে তোমার স্পর্শ আমার অন্তরে

ইচ্ছে হয় হতে এক বিস্ফুরিত অগ্নিশিখা
যখন তুমি হয়ে ওঠো বন্ধন মুক্ত দাবানল
তোমার আলোয় আলোকিত হয় পৃথিবী
আর তোমার ভয়েই হয় মানব কোলাহল

সুধু চেয়েছি হতে ভোরের অলঙ্কার
একটি তৃণর ওপর পবিত্র শিশিরবিন্দু
কারণ ক্ষুদ্রের মধ্যেই থাকে বৃহত গুপ্ত
থাকে জলের কণা তেও সাগর-সিন্ধু

Why - কেন

বৃষ্টি ভেজা সকাল বিকেল
মনে করিয়ে দেয় তোমার কথা
মনে করিয়ে দেয় সেই চুম্বন
ফিরিয়ে আনে বুকের ব্যথা

মনে পরে কি সেই দিনগুলির কথা

যখন তুমি আর আমি এসেছিলাম কাছে
ভেঙ্গে দিয়েছিলাম সব বাধার দেয়াল
হয়ে উঠেছিলাম এক ও অভিন্ন

মনে পরে সেই হাথের স্পর্শ
মনে পরে সেই প্রেমের আবহমন
যেখানে গচ্ছিত আছে কত অশ্রুধার
আছে সঞ্চিত কত অসমাপ্ত চুম্বন

কেন ফিরে আসবে না তুমি, কেন
কেন বন্ধ কপাট বাহির ও অন্দর
কেন তুমি আর আমি রয়েছি আলাদা
কেন হবে না আবার দিনগুলি সুন্দর

Hide-n-Seek - লুকোচুরি

দিন আসে দিন যায়ে,
নব নতুন সাজে
সবই তাও একই থাকে
জীবনের মাঝে

সুখ এসে গেল চলে
দেখ বার বার
রয়ে গেল মন-মাঝে
সেই অন্ধকার

আলো আঁধারের লুকোচুরি
এই জীবন মাঝে
মন তাই আজও হায়
টুকরো হাসি খোজে

খোজ খোজ বলে মন
কিন্তু বোঝে না হায়
যা কখনো ছিলোই না
তা কেউ কি খুঁজে পায়...

Horizon - দিগন্ত

ঘরের বাঁধন ছিড়েছি আমি
আমি দেখেছি স্বপ্ন অনন্ত,
হতে অচিন পথের পথিক
হোক শীত বা হোক বসন্ত।

প্রেমের মোহক মায়াজালে
জড়াতে চেয়েছ বার বার,
আগলে রাখতে চেয়ছ
চেয়েছ রুদ্ধ করতে দ্বার।

এই পথ নয় সহজ সরল
এই সত্যি তা আমি জানি,
তাও পারিনি ফিরিয়ে দিতে
ওই সুদুর দিগন্তের হাথছানি।

তাই করেছি যাত্রা শুরু আমি
নিয়েছি এগিয়ে চলার সিদ্ধান্ত,
এই আকাশ তোমার আমার
তবু যার যার নিজের দিগন্ত॥

Pujo - পুজো

বাড়ি ছেড়ে অনেক দুরে বসে আছি আজ
বাড়ির পাশের ছোটো মাঠে, আজ পুজোর সাজ
আনন্দ আর হইচই দিয়ে হবে পারা মাত
কত গল্প আড্ডা নিয়ে সবাই জাগবে সারা রাত
ছোটো বড় সবাই মিলে দারুন মজা হবে
আমি কিন্তু থাকতে পারবনা এই সবে
মন তাই আজ আকুল - বিকুল ফিরে যেতে চায়ে
পুরনো সেই বন্ধুদের ফের কাছে পেতে চায়ে
মনের আশা মনেই থাকবে পূর্ণ হবে না
ফিরে যেতে চেয়েও আজ আর যাওয়া হবে না

Goonj - गूँज

ज़िन्दगी कुछ अलग नहीं हमारी भी
हमारे आँखों में भी आंसू ही बसते हैं
जीते हैं हम तो उन्हें छिपाकर ही
भारी गम में भी शौक़ से हँसते हैं

गूँज सन्नाटे के साथ चलती है
तन्हाई में लिपटी ये सब रस्ते हैं
मंजिल के सपने धुन्दले हैं आज भी
इसलिए हम खुद पे ही तरसते हैं

अनजान राहो पर भटकता एक राही मैं भी

अपने अरमानों की खुद बलि चढाते हैं
पर ये दिल हार नहीं मानती आज भी
तभी तो आंसू पीकर भी आज हँसते हैं

Smile

Smile,
When the world departs
And you are all alone;
When no one feels the anguish
And the pain is unknown.

Smile,
When the sun goes down
And everything is dark;
When you see that you had tried
But still missed the mark.

Smile,
When Time itself is the enemy
And nothing is in your hand;
Happy moments are washed away
Like words written on sand.

Smile,
When the game is over
And you know you have lost
Smile still and don't give up
Smile, Smile at any cost.

Ties

There are some things, you can't leave behind,
No matter if you find,
something new that you mind
Takes a fancy for.

Time and time again, you have to come back,
Even if there is nothing you lack,
To things buried deep in a stack
And lost in time.

Even if we pretend, that we are all right,
And there really is no fight,
Yet things in plain sight
change us all.

You are always tied, with invisible strings,
From the paupers to the kings,
By all the things
you can't leave behind.

Delusion - বিভ্রম

কি হবে এত ভেবে
স্বপ্ন দেখতে ভুলে
আলেয়ার পেছনে
রাতের পর রাত জেগে।

কি লাভ আঁকড়ে ধরে রেখে
কিছু টুকরো টুকরো স্মৃতি
যা হারিয়ে গেছে কোনদিন
সময়ের অচিন তেপান্তরে।

কি হবে আর লড়ে
নিজের সাথে এ লড়াই
আজ নিজের কাছেই নাহয়
একবার হেরে গেলে।

কিসের আশায়ে তাকিয়ে থাকা
ওই সুদুর দিগন্তের দিকে
যখন ভালবাসার হাথছানি
রয়ে গেছে চোখের আড়ালে।

কেন নিজের কাছেই আজ
নিতে হয়ে মিথ্যের আশ্রয়
কিছুই কি যাবে পাওয়া
নিজেকেই ভুল বুঝিয়ে।

কেন একটুকু শান্তির জন্যে
অন্বেষণ সারা পৃথিবীর বুকে
যখন বুক ভরা কষ্টের মাঝেও
আছে সুখের নিবিড় আশ্রয়।

Why

পূর্ণ হয়েছে সব চাহিদা,
কিছুই তো নেই বাকি;
তবু কেন আজ ব্যথিত হৃদয়,
অশ্রু ভেজা আঁখি?

पूरे हुए अरमान सारे,
कुछ नहीं है कम;
फिर भी क्यूँ ये दर्दे-दिल,
आँखे क्यूँ है नम?

Desires are all fulfilled,
Nothing more to get;
Why then the wrenched heart,
Why the eyes are wet?

Mask - মুখোশ

আজ মানুষ মাত্রই একটা মুখোশ,
কেউ জানেনা তার আসল পরিচয়।
হারিয়ে গেছে তার পেছনের মুখ,
কেউ জানতে হায় আর চায়ে ও না।

তাই আমিও আজ মুখোশের আড়ালে,
তাই আমার ঠোঁটের কোণেও আজ হাসি,
কোনো কষ্টই আর ছুটে পারে না আমায়,
আজ সবাই ই যে আমার বড় আপন।

আজ মুখোশ ই আমার বন্ধু,
আর নিজেকেই ভুলতে চাই,
নিজেরই সাজানো এই মেকি স্বপ্নে,
আজ নিজেই নিজেকে হারাই।

এর ই মধ্যে এলে তুমি এক ঝড় হয়ে,
তোলপাড় করে দিলে আমার অস্তিত্ব,
কেড়ে নিতে চাইলে আমার মুখোশ,
চিনে নিতে চাইলে আসল আমাকে।

ভালোবেসে কাছে এসেছিলে তুমি,
খুলে ফেলে দিয়েছিলে আমার মুখোশ,
কিন্তু হায়, হয়ে ওঠেনি তোমারও জানা,
মুখোশের আড়ালেও ছিল আর একটি মুখোশ।

Talash - तलाश

आज भी मेरे होँठो के बीच
एक हंसी दबी सी बैठी है,
उसे खिलखिलाती मुस्कराहट बनादे
कुछ ऐसे पल के लिए प्यासा हूँ।

आज भी मेरे कानो में
एक मीठी सी धुन गुनगुनाती है,
उस धुन को सुरीला गीत बनादे
ऐसे लब्ज़ोँ के इंतज़ार में हूँ।

आज भी बंद आँखोँ में
कई सारे सहमे से सपने हैं,
उन्हें सच करने की हिम्मत दे
उस भरोसे के लिए तरसता हूँ।

आज भी दिल के किसी कोने में
कई अरमान छिपाके रक्खे हैं,
उन अरमानो को पंख फैलाये उड़ने दे
एक ऐसे आसमान को खोजता हूँ।

आज भी ज़िन्दगी के किताब में
कई कोरे पन्ने बाकि पड़े हैं,
उन पन्नो को सजाने के लिए
कहानियोँ के तलाश में भटकता हूँ।

ये तलाश आज तुम्हारे पास है ले आई
तुम, जिसने मेरे गीतोँ में लब्ज़ दिए,
भरोसा दिया मेरे हर इरादे को
मेरे दिल के सारे अरमान पुरे किये।

तुम से है मेरी ज़िन्दगी की शुरुआत
और तुम्ही पे आके ख़तम होती है,
तुम्हारे बिना अधुरा ये जीवन मेरा
उन कोरे पन्नो में कहानी तुम्हे ही लिखनी है।

Mohabatt - मुहब्बत

मुहब्बत क्या है,
किसी की मीठी सी आवाज़,
या फिर कोई मोहक अंदाज़,
दिल को छु लेने वाली बोली,
 या शरारती आँख-मिचोली,
हमे तो बस मुहब्बत की प्यास है।

मुहब्बत क्या है,
कोई दिलासा देती हाथ,
किसी अपने का साथ,
कहीं कड़े धूप में छाया,
या मोहमई कोई काया, 
हमे तो बस मुहब्बत की तलाश है।

मुहब्बत वोह है,
वो जो दुःख में साथ निभाती है,
वो जो गम में भी हंसाती है,
जो भरोसे का एहसास दिलाये,
जो हर पल साथ निभाए,
हमने उस मुहब्बत को जाना है।

मुहब्बत वोह है,
जो बेझिजक तुमसे प्यार करे,
जो दुनिया से यह कहते ना डरे,
जिसके बिना ज़िन्दगी अधूरी है,
जिसकी ख़ुशी सबसे ज्यादा ज़रूरी है,
हमे उसी मुहब्बत को अपनाना है।

Hunger

The day had started like any other,
As usual I was talking to myself;
It did not seem at all unnatural,
Yet I was apprehended, frowned on.

I told myself, “I am hungry”,
I responded, “Go get your food”;
“Where do I get it?” I requested.
“Earn it”, came the curt reply.

Neither was I sure how to do that.
Nor was I aware how to learn;
Nevertheless I decided to try,
I could not afford to go hungry.

I treaded down the path I was on,
There were so many people around;
They were all busy in their own work
Inundated in a world of their own.

A curtain parted in front of me,
It was all suddenly so lucid;
A fog seemed to melt away,
I could see the horizon and beyond.

It was painfully obvious to me then
Everyone was busy at the same work,
They were all pursuing the same goal,
To earn the bread for self and family.

The more I looked the more it was evident.
An overwhelming curiosity pegged me on,
All other feelings and sensations subsided
Had to find the underlying cause and reason.

It's now time to turn in,
I am full and well fed,
There's one thing I learnt today,
As I toiled for my bread.

By sweat, blood or toil;
By means evil or good,
No matter how things stack up,
We had to earn our food.

Rudropolash - রুদ্রপলাশ

আজ হাজার মানুষের ভিড়ে
মন একা বসে ভাবে,
শৈশব এর সেই হাসি
আবার ফিরে পাব কবে।

ফিরে পেতে চায়ে মন
সেই ভোরের আকাশ
শিশির ভেজা মাঠ
আর বন্ধু রুদ্রপলাশ।

দিয়েছ কত সঙ্গ আমায়
শৈশবের সে দুপুর বেলা,
দেখেছ মোদের মাঠ জুড়ে
চু-কিত-কিত, হা-ডু-ডু খেলা।

কত হাসি-কান্নার গল্প নিয়ে
তোমার সামনেই কৈশোর এ পাড়ি,
তোমার ছায়ায়ে ছিল আমাদের
এক অনাবিল আনন্দময় সপ্নপুরী।

ফুলের গালিচা পেতে ডেকেছ,
কোনো সুখ ই দিতে রাখনি বাদ,
আজ প্রতি মুহুর্তের ব্যস্ততায়
হারিয়েছে সে সব আনন্দ আস্বাদ।

তোমার ছায়ায় বসেই পেলাম
সেই প্রথম প্রেমের চিঠি,
তার পর এক বছর ধরে
কত ভালবাসা, খুনসুটি।

তারপর হঠাৎ ই একদিন
তোমার ছেড়ে চলে যাওয়া,
একবার, সুধু একটিবার,
আমার দিকে ফিরে চাওয়া।

কত কান্না বুকে চেপে রেখে
বলেছিলাম, "ভালো থেকো"
সুধু এইটুকু ছিল প্রার্থনা,
আমায়ে চিরকাল মনে রেখো।

এত পথ পাড়ি দিয়ে এসে
তুমি আজ সুধুই পুরনো স্মৃতি,

তাও কেন যে ভুলতে পারিনি

সেই প্রথম প্রেমের চিঠি।

অমলিন সে চিঠির লেখা
আজও মনের মাঝে,
সযত্নে রাখা আছে সে ফুল
বই এর পাতার খাঁজে।

ঘর ছেড়ে আজ অনেক দূরে
এই স্বেচ্ছা কারাবাস,
আগলে রাখি তোমার স্মৃতি
হে বন্ধু রুদ্রপলাশ।

Unspoken Words

18:30 – Durgapur Station

---

Stepping on to the platform panting and drenched in sweat, the first thing I noticed was the crowd. It was extra strong for a Thursday. Then again, it was not your regular Thursday. 

The daily passengers today were augmented by the horde of students from the neighbouring engineering colleges. They were all headed home for the extended weekend of "Kaali Pujo" and "Bhaifota". There were smiles on most faces, in anticipation of the celebrations and festivities.

I too, was one of the later; eager to get away from the dreaded dreariness of an engineering college hostel. The thought of a comfortable bed at home then was more alluring than the promise of manna from heaven.

We did not have to wait long. The announcement for the train was followed by a flurry of activity. It was a blurred cacophony. The whistle of the incoming train – sudden restlessness – the train rolling to a halt – a mad rush and scampering – the whistle again and then on our way. 

It ended as suddenly as it had begun. As the train picked up speed everything quickly settled down. Fate, it seemed, was generous to me. I was elated to be by the window. It was not that I was given much to the scenes passing swiftly by in the twilight, but now that the train started picking up speed, the wind rushing in had a great soothing effect on the tired and sleep deprived mind of mine. I dozed.

19:00 – Panagarh Station

---

I was jolted to full consciousness as the train slowed to a halt. The train had arrived at its next stoppage. It was a repeat of the same scene over again. The cool wind had refreshed me. “Winter is on its way at last,” I thought wistfully.

Amidst the rush, I three new faces took their seats beside me. A lady with her two young daughters; clearly headed for her maternal home for the festivities. Their father had come to see them off.

The younger daughter was pestering her mother for not having a window seat. Her sister, trying to act all grown up, was trying to dissuade her.

 “It’s all dark. There is nothing to see.”

“But there are so many lights in the dark. They are so beautiful.”

Amused, I invited her to come and sit by my side. Their mother looked at me suspiciously, but the kid was by my side before she could say anything. 

Their mother thanked me and engaged in some small-talk. I could sense she was apprehensive and was trying to gauge if I had any ill intentions. I realized a hectic day at college and a near impossible dash to the station to catch the train had left my appearance far from convincing. Nevertheless, the terms Computer Science Engineer and National Institute of Technology do work wonders.

19:30 – Bardhaman Station

---

The last half an hour had made it clear that I had a new friend. And I clearly couldn’t resist getting a chocolate bar for her from the hawkers who boarded the train as it rested a while at Bardhaman. Her sister, Mampi, too got one in her honour. She took it, thanking me politely and submerged herself in her comic once again.

Their mother Mitin did not seem to mind my friendliness towards her daughters any more. Having established the safety of my intentions some time earlier, she was lost in her thoughts. Constantly fiddling with her mobile phone, she was probably awaiting a call.

And then there was Munni. She clearly was of a different mettle. She was undoubtedly the most vivacious and garrulous 8 year old. She had talked constantly and inundated me with everything I thought she could tell me and more.

From her, I got to know their names, that her sister was 12 and was the brightest student in her class, that they were headed for their Mama’s place in New Alipore, that her dress was brand new; having been bought by her father only yesterday and hundred and one other odds-and-ends she could think of.

While I was admiring this human Elixir of Happiness, she had neatly finished her chocolate and was tugging at my arm. She had more to tell me. I found myself smiling. Clearly, her happiness was infectious. I turned to her and immersed myself in her story.

20:30 – Bandel Station

---

The spell was broken by Mitin’s words. “Here, Mama wants to talk to you,” she said, handing the cell-phone to her daughter.

As Munni directed her attention to her Uncle and plans of chocolates, cakes and ice-creams for the next four days, I noticed that we were rolling out of Bandel. I was so mesmerised by our conversation, I hardly realised how time had flown by.

I found Munni to be not only a sweet and charming girl, but also very smart and mature beyond her years. With both parents out working, the two sisters had to house to themselves most of the time. And they ran it as well as they could.

 “I love to cook, and I am good at it,” she said. “But Didi doesn’t let me. She says I put too much sugar in everything.” She confided she knew and told me with a wink, “But then I love sweet.” I couldn’t help but smile.

And then there was her sister. Munni literally hero worshipped her. If perfection could be found on Earth, it was to be found in Mampi.

 “Didi comes first in class every time. I managed it only once, that too last year.”

 “Didi does all the tough sums so quickly. She does her own homework and even helps me with mine.”

 “Didi is a wonderful singer. She wins so many medals and trophies. She can also dance so well. She even goes to an Arts & Crafts class.”

 “Whenever Reena Aunty takes leave, Didi cooks such nice snacks for me in the evening. She has taught me so many dishes as well. And she doesn’t let me do anything.”

“And Didi is not mischievous like me. She can’t climb trees or doesn’t bring pups and kittens home from the street like me.”

 “So you climb trees?” I inquired.

“Mum doesn’t let me. Dad is okay. He lets me climb the guava tree in our house and get ripe guavas. He waits for me underneath the tree and I throw him the guavas.”

“Mum scolds Dad for it. She thinks I will fall,” she giggled. “I actually have a couple of times. Dad did not tell mum.”

A little angel in an idyllic family; what else is heaven, if not this?

She had finished her conversation with her uncle and directed her attention once again towards me. She was ready to speak and I was eager to listen.

21:20 – Outside Howrah Station

---

We were nearing the end of our journey. The train was stuck at the signal outside Howrah station, awaiting a platform allotment.

Mitin was busy getting their entire luggage in place. She asked me to awaken Munni, who had peacefully gone to sleep in my lap, exhausted. She still had the looks of a cherubic baby. But no, she was not a baby. She was as grown up as me or anyone else in the compartment; maybe even more.

What she told me had put my mind in topsy-turvy. I was awestruck with the depths of her feelings.

It all started with her mother Mitin telling her to stop bothering me with all her childish talk. I reassured her I didn’t mind and was actually enjoying it.

It was then that she asked me, “I do talk too much, isn’t it?”

 “So what? Even I talk a lot,” I said. She seemed to pay no attention.

 “And yet no one knows what I think, because I never tell that.” I was startled. The words seemed so out of place on that innocent face.

It all came out like a gushing fountain after that. How her father wanted a son but had her instead. How her mother always compared her with Mampi and found her wanting. How her Hero-Sister locked her up in the large apartment all alone in the evenings while she went out to her tutorials till she or one of the parents came back home. How everyone was always busy, everyone except her. How she was all alone.

Yet she kept up her brave happy front. Each sad word was hidden in praise – for her Dad, her Mum and her Didi. Each dry tear was covered with a smile.

I was awakened from my reminiscence by the familiar sights and sounds of Howrah station. The train was rolling in. I awakened Munni softly.

“Get up sweetheart, we have reached.”

She jumped up gleefully. “Great. Mama will be waiting at the platform. I bet he brought his new car.”

I too, got up, gathered my backpack and was putting it on, getting ready to disembark. I felt a by then familiar tug at my arm. Munni was asking me to bend down to her.

 “Will you please hold my hand and help me get down from the train?” she spoke in an almost inaudible whisper.

21:30 – Platform 14, Howrah

---

She had spotted her uncle as soon as we de-boarded the train. She freed her hand from me and ran to him. I followed her with Mitin and Mampi.

Munni introduced me to her uncle as her boyfriend. All of us roared with laughter. She was holding my hand and blushing. After brief introductions, it was time to go. All of us were in a hurry to get home and I took their leave.

I was headed towards the crowded local trains which would take me home. My beautiful co-passenger was headed to the car park with her family. Munni kept turning and waving at me. She had made me promise to call her and talk to her regularly. How could I refuse her?

I was lost in thought. I don’t know what had earned me the blessing of this friendship. I don’t know what made her confide in me. But a 22 year old engineer had become the best friend of an 8 year old girl barely out of kindergarten. It was the strongest bond I had ever felt with anyone.

I don’t know if this friendship will last. I don’t know if we will keep in touch or if we won’t; let alone ever meet again. But one thing was for sure. In the span of a 3 hour journey, this little girl had revealed to me a vivid scene from this panorama we call life.

Dreams & Reality

If I could choose my dreams,
Dreams dreamt with open eyes,
I would dream of vast green fields,
Of turquoise seas and clear blue skies.

A dream of bliss and gaiety,
With a smile for every face,
Each new day of happiness,
Each night, in the lap of grace.

The fields turn to dead desert as I see,
The skies rent with moans and wail,
Pain and anguish stretch to the horizons
The devastation is on an unimagined scale.

The world is down with illness,
The symptoms visible far and wide,
The sand castles of hopes and wishes
Leveled away by the bellowing tide.

As the world is hidden in Shadow,
And Torment smoothly takes its toll,
As my dreams turns to a nightmare,
I wish never to have dreamt at all.

The dream was broken, I was awake,
The frightful scenes still in my eyes,
My hopes that is was just a dream
Dashed by relentless screams and cries.

I closed my eyes with a deep fear,
Afraid of what I would see,
My dream was a dream no more,
It was cold cruel reality.

Curiosity, yet, is stronger still,
And I did open my eyes,
Only to find a still stranger sight,
Under those gloomy skies.

An old man lost in the passage of days
His back bent with years of burden,
Yet with his dim sight and frail hands
He was tending a beautiful garden.

Smile on his lips, twinkle in his eyes,
He merrily toiled away,
In his hands he held a lily,
He said, “It bloomed this very day!”

“I keep up this garden,” he said
“Be it rain or shine.
To fill the world with flowers
Is the dream of mine.”

“Does not this appear to be a folly,
To strive for such impossibility?
There is only so much we can do,
For we are all bound by our ability.”

He smiled at me and replied,
“Your concerns are very kind,
As long as  there is one more bloom
I surely would never mind.”

His words meant more to me
more than he meant them to be.
For if we put our mind to it
Our dreams too can be a reality.

Unfair

My life is made of dreams,
Woven with open eyes,
With feet tied in chains,
In days of pain and sighs.

The hand wipes the tears,
The mind stifles the cries;
While my heart spreads its wings,
To conquer the vast open skies.

Each new day is different,
Yet they all feel the same;
A rat race, an endless struggle,
For money, fortune and fame.

The perpetrator's pit-less hunger,
The victim's hidden shame;
Each one but dumb pawns,
In Fate's tyrannical game.

Smiles, laughter 'n merriment,
True; they come by and by,
Keep 'em I can't, a moment more,
No matter how hard I try.

The tears stay on with me,
Oft hidden from you;
When you hear that life's unfair,
Just know it to be true.

Lost

How many times has it happened,
That we lost all hope at trifles?
How many times have we given up,
Just when things began going haywire?

We accept defeat too easily,
We surrender at first war call,
We no longer take up arms to say,
"Beware; I do not go down easy!"

Life now is so much easier for us,
Yet we refuse to face its terms,
We despair at every turn of events,
We halter at every bend the road takes.

We have lost the power to face obstacles,
We have lost the faith that we can overcome them,
We no longer look at them as challenges,
We believe them to be eternal roadblocks.

We have forgotten that we fail for sure,
Whenever we refuse to take a chance that comes by,
Until we decide to get up, take note and make a difference
We have lost the war, we count among losers!

Life

I was living a life of arrogant experience,
Knowledgeable of every move on the mat,
Each new turn of event felt all the same,
I was of the notion, "Been there, done that!"

Lady Luck never seemed to be on my side,
She had strewn my path with numerous trials,
Not many could have boasted surviving them all,
Yet I had come through completely unscathed.

I looked up at the skies and taunted,
"Is that all you have for me to go through?
I still have it in me to face them all over.
You don't give up that effortlessly, do you?"

It is then that I saw those deep watery eyes.
Eyes longing for understanding and care,
Longing for a little word of strength,
Hoping for the love that was never there.

I felt the urge to be by her side,
To make her know I was always there;
To rid those rosy cheeks of tears,
To soothe her heart with words of care.

I tried to tell her how vital she was to me
But somehow my voice choked and I failed;
All I could do was to just stand dumbfounded,
And deep within my heart copiously wailed.

I had lost my most prized possession,
Words failed me for the first time.
I no longer held the enigmatic presence,
I felt like a loser, worth less than a dime.

And then she put her hands into mine,
The smile on her lips showed she knew.
I had been able to bare my heart to her,
Though words used were scantily few.

A strange sense of tranquillity filed my heart,
Life seemed to make sense to me completely anew,
All my previous achievements didn't matter any more,
For it was only now I found the reason to excel.

Life had challenged me to a deadly duel,
And I was the one, who drew first blood,
Life found a whole new meaning for me,
From now on, Triumph was to be my companion.

Compassion

I was travelling alone in a packed train,
Surprising how lonely crowds can make u feel,
Only yesterday I was surrounded by friends,
And today, left alone to hold on to the keel.

A shrill cry broke the chain of my thoughts,
An old lady in rags was begging for money,
She was an epitome of misery and gloom,
Yet some sneered, don'’t know what seemed funny.

I put a hand into my pocket and pulled out the change
A five rupee coin was all I could stumble on there,
A quick snack fought for it with a smile of gratification
The smile triumphed hands down without another care.

Slowly she crawled up to my feet, trembling with hope
I put the money in her hand; she held it up to her eyes,
She realized it was a fiver and not the usual fifty paisa
She was speechless; happiness carried her to the skies.

All the people turned around at once and looked at me
As she showered me with heartfelt blessings of gratitude,
For most of them it was not a generous deed of good,
All they found were colossal faults with my attitude.

I heard one of them speak, "look at these kids of today,
Squandering hard earned money without wee bit shame."
The one next snapped smiling, "Why do you bother,
If their parents can afford to be part of the game."

I was shocked to hear that conversation
Were they really that heartless or ...
Or was it that we are made to think so
Was it the society that was to account for?

We no longer feel compassion in our hearts,
People who do are contemptuously vouched,
Sympathy and Affection are now strangers to us,
Pennies earned are valued more that lives touched.

How is it that we lost this gift of ours?
Love had all along been our speciality.
And look to what we have degraded now
Fighting for trifles with all brutality.

We no longer notice how love can change lives,
We no longer feel its great power of healing,
The magical touch, the countless soft smiles,
The words of wonder, the surreal feeling.

Love means more than we could ever imagine,
Yet we refuse to love the feeling of love
We are more engrossed in what we can get
Than the gifts of love showered from above.

We were not like this in the past,
We must not be like this in future,
We will learn to love all over again,
In a world where we all are together.

Believe

Believe

I opened my eyes; a thousand stared back,

They were looking at me, at my verve,

Penetrating eyes, yet not really seeing through,

Alas! If only they could see the inner strife.

I took it upon myself; I tried to reach out,

I tried to tell them, tell them what it was like,

How it felt, why it was all recurring, universal.

And not unique as they made it appear.

I spread out my arms, it hit a block,

There was nothing in front, no barrier,

Yet I could not cross over, I was stopped,

Stopped by something that wasn't there.

Time and again I hit this obstacle,

Time and again it stopped me,

An invisible wall seemed to mock at me,

I shouted frantically, "It can't be!!!"

My feelings were in a bottleneck,

Waiting to pop up and spurt out,

And spread all around in a fervent spree,

Waiting, for it would never be.

I had to give up, and sit down,

After all I had lost and they had won.

It is then that I suddenly noticed,

They had the same problems I thought as my own.

All this hatred, all this animosity,

Brothers-in-arms to brothers-at-arms,

Ready to exterminate at every minute provocation.

Is this what we really believe in???

"Are we not the Masters of this Creation?"

I couldn't help but wonder.

All that seems to matter is destruction,

We are fast approaching our biggest blunder. 

I realised I had outgrown my petty problems,

We had a lot more to worry about than my whims.

The unfulfilled desires, the expanse of tears,

The magnitude of sorrow and the broken dreams.

And yet, in some way it felt better within,

Even with all the predicament piled together.

The pain was no longer throbbing so hard,

Somehow collective grief felt that much better.

We took in that not only was the grief collective,

So were their causes, causes that tormented us all,

We also saw their remedies right in front of us,

We had to execute them jointly, lest all of us fall.

Amidst this there was a sudden realisation,

The barrier was no longer there.

It was but a mere mental projection,

I had overcome entirely unaware.

It's we, who put the barrier; it's we, who segregate,

Yet it's we who hold the key; we can open the gate.

The barrier breaks down as "I" mingles with "They",

And from it emerges "We" to show us the way.

"The way", you ask, "which way?

It is the way of hope, of faith.

Hope for the future, faith in ourselves.

The belief of a better life we can create.

We realise the similitude of destruction and creation,

How they are the sides of the same coin.

For only if there is destruction,

There can be renewed creation taking place.

The seeming futility of life gives way,

In its place comes the vigour and dynamism of action.

We learn to dream again, we learn to realise them.

All because now we know to believe!!!