Poetry: The Sun and the Recluse

The Sun and the Recluse

Dark, desolate and morose a man’s habitat had been, since he came of age;

In his stare-down with the crippling Winter, neither backed down nor softened their gaze.

Solitude and agony has always been his norm,

‘til the day the Sun emerged and showed its radiant form.

Through its sunshine, the Sun gave him warmth and brightened up his day;

The snow started to melt, and he thought, maybe the eternal winter is fading away.

The ray of light the Sun shone on him, painted a new life prospect;

Maybe solitude wasn’t the only answer, and love is something he can expect.

He arose from his voluntary confinement, and stared at the Sun high up in the sky,

Thinking that just like Icarus, he could spread his wings, and fly to the Sun’s nigh.

Fighting against all odd, he raced towards the Sun,

Oblivious of his upcoming fate which would never be undone.

The radiance which once brightened his day, now incinerated his wings,

And he started spiraling downwards into what seemed like an eternal abyss.

Plummeting through the sky, he saw his Sun slowly hiding behind the Eclipse.

The sight of which tormented him the most, even more than the approaching Tartarus Pit.

The Pit became his abode, as he came to terms with the eternal darkness,

With the realization that, it was not so different from the Winter he used to face.

Both are dreary, dark and filled with desolation,

Yet somehow each turned out to be tranquil and unlikely companion.

Staring into the darkness, he remembered old memories:

How the Sun once brought happiness and shared his reveries.

In this eternal darkness, he wanted to be with the Sun for one last moment,

To bask in its radiance just once, and then return to his atonement.

But his naïve yearning was soon followed by an obvious catharsis,

The Sun is gone forever, and all he has left now is solitude in this infinite Tartaric abyss!

POETRY: THE GRUNGE OF SLIME

THE GRUNGE OF SLIME

Feeling down and low, in this rusty world of pomp and show
The sound of melody has left my side and I don’t know why?
I can’t feel the sweetness of love and the touch of your soul
Perhaps, I have been stung by the Devil’s Death fly.

Everywhere I go, I feel the grunge of slime
Maybe because I am frozen in time
The evil is consuming me like a prey
And I wonder whether I will ever see the day

The grunge of Slime surrounds everything everywhere
I have no damn clue how to get away from here
Flesh and Bones is all that I see around me
Without any soul and no desire to be free


I look up at the dark sky, hoping for a glimpse of light
Wishing for the Pegasus of life to pick me up
But in this dark I conceive nothing which is white
All is foul and grim, even the air that I breathe

In these despairing times I see a glimpse of hope
A flying beast tearing through the currents of air
Maybe my prayers are answered and the Pegasus has arrived.
I held my hands high, for it to take me up and fly.

As it reached for me, I saw what it really was.
It was the Basilisk of Death, not the Pegasus of life
It grabbed my hands soar high up into the dark.
Then I realized, time to pay my debt is finally here!!

Poetry: Be Free Old Friend

This poem is dedicated to my late best friend and mentor Sandipan. He has now become a part of nature. I do miss him a lot but to some extent I am content that he might belong in a better world now.


Be Free Old Friend


Thy seabed is sandy, but your hands are so dry
My only eye’s candy, why didn’t you wave goodbye?
If I resemble a hill-top, you were a giant mountain
But crimson streams flow now, and your heart ‘s an open fountain

Thy powers were mighty, capable of turning tempests
But even thou couldn’t endure the treachery of vile friends.
If I had thy might, I would have revenge thee
But revenge is not so sweet, ‘tis what thee taught me

Now the elements welcome you, like a fruit of their tree
Farewell good old friend, let your soul be free
Inherit the strength of earth, the fury of fire,
the mobility of water, and also the calm of air.

Drench in their powers, as you deserve ‘em all
Experience the charm that you once felt in a concert hall
Go enjoy this world, which is still open for discovery
A world full of secret, but not with friend’s treachery.

Goodbye old pal, I’ll miss you a lot
But never look back, or even give it a thought
Dead you may be, but still alive you are
In that world and in my heart, which will always be ajar.

Poetry: My Solitude and I

My Solitude and I

I often used to wonder, why am I so lonely?
Can’t this life be a bit more friendly?
Why does it always happen that
Whenever I ask for a friend,
It’s Solitude, Solitude and only Solitude I get


“A friend in need is a friend in deed”
Is a proverb learnt by heart from adults to kids.
But the unfortunate me can’t put this saying into test.
‘cause as a friend, it’s Solitude, Solitude and only Solitude I have.


“Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all”
Quoted “In memoriam” Alfred Tennyson, probably the best amongst all
But the regrettable I can’t experience the emotion mentioned above.
Because, in my life there is no one else except Solitude to love.


Why Solitude why? Why did you do this to me?
You sucked my life away like a leech, just to nourish thee.
You were my only friend, whom I considered as my companion.
But it's I not you who is to be blamed because
I forgot the age-old truth, that you are a blood sucking champion.

Short Story: Bhola's Day Out

Actually, this story was an essay assignment given to me by the University of Chicago. After writing it, I realized, it was really good, so I published it in my blog. So, buckle up to go through Bhola's Day Out.


BHOLA'S DAY OUT


It was 6:30 in the morning. The alarm clock was ringing on continuously for the last two minutes, but Bhola didn’t have any intention of losing his battle of slumber to a petty alarm clock. He covered his face with his quilt and hoped that this armor of his would protect him from the clattering attacks of his alarm clock. But this battle of his didn’t last long; the raids of the alarm clock were aided by a couple of hands and within a minute his defense was overcome.
“Oh-huh Ma! It’s just 6:30 in the morning.” moaned Bhola, “why did you wake me up so early? I slept late you know.”
A tendering voice replied, “But son, you will be late for your test.”
“What test?” inquired Bhola in anxiety.
“Your Teacher Training Certificate test”
“Oh shit! I entirely forgot about it, I better get ready fast. My entire career depends on this test.”
Bhola jumped out of the bed. He took his toothbrush and hurried into the bathroom.

Our Bhola is a young man of 25 years with below-average looks. His appearance is somewhat creepy; so, he is the only one amongst his friends who is still without a girlfriend. The only woman with whom he maintains a steady and friendly relationship is his mom. He believes his mom is very lucky for him and never goes anywhere without taking her kiss first.
His superstitious and irrational attitude is the chief cause of him still being unemployed even after holding a 1st class BSc (Bachelor of Science) degree in Mathematics. His only hope now is this TTC examination conducted by the University of Chicago, which he thinks will provide him a one way ticket to his success.

But he has no idea of what was coming towards him that day. He dressed up quickly, took his application file and hurried out of the door. In his haste he forgot to take his mom’s kiss. It was when he reached his bus-stop, which is about one km away from his house he realized what a blunder he made. He started feeling uneasy and thought of going back, but his test will start from 8:30 and it was almost 7:30 in his watch. So, he continued his walk praying that nothing bad happens. On his way he took out his admit card and saw that the test must given by number two pencils.

“Why number two pencils?” yelled Bhola in annoyance. “Can’t I just use pen? Who cares, it’s their test and I have to follow their rules”

Groaning and muttering, he went to a nearby stationery shop. The shopkeeper was a middle-aged woman. He asked for three number two pencils. While he was taking out his wallet, the woman saw that one of his shoelaces was left untied.

She said “Excuse me Sir! A shoe of yours is open”
Bhola was quite extolled with the lady’s manners and had craziest idea that one can ever have.
He said, “Excuse me Ma’am! I was just wondering, could you kiss me on my left cheek”
The lady gradually started turning red with anger and within a minute she planted her right palm tightly on Bhola’s cheek.
But instead of saying sorry Bhola replied, “Pardon me Ma’am, but could you slap my other cheek also. My grandmother used to say, if one gets slapped in one cheek he remained unmarried for the rest of his life.”

Hearing this, the lady became more furious. She hit him tightly on his neck and threw him out of his shop along with his newly bought pencils yelling, “If you ever show your face in this colony again then that day will be your last.”

Bhola turned away from her and continued his walk. The two things that were bothering him were why did the woman hit him and can the neck-hit be considered as a slap. These thoughts of his didn’t bother him for long because he stepped on his shoelace and fell face-first on the road. His entire outfit became dirty. His face and hands were scratched. His entire appearance changed completely. He looked more like a beggar than an examinee. He got up from the ground and yelled for a taxi. A taxi stood in front of him; but misfortune followed him here too. Simultaneously two doors opened and before he could enter, an old lady got into the taxi.

Bhola argued, “But ma’am I called the taxi first.”
The old lady yelled, “Don’t you have any manners? Senior citizens always get first preference. Didn’t your mom teach you that?”
Saying this, the old lady turned her face away and ordered the taxi-driver to go to her destination while Bhola was blaming himself for forgetting to take his mom’s kiss. He wondered none of this would have happened if he was kissed and slapped properly.

He then took the next taxi and was on his way to the examination centre. Inside the cab he was hoping that his desired questions may come in the paper; but with misfortune following him like a shadow he had a premonitory idea that his exam will turn out bad. But if they ask for a fanciful explanation of the Pythagorean Theorem or questions from the Periodic Table of Elements then his chances of qualifying are good.

With all these preoccupied thoughts he reached his examination centre. Seeing him in this ragged condition, the gatekeeper said, “Hey wait! No charity service today. Come tomorrow”
Bhola replied, “But I am an examinee. Here’s my admit card”
The gatekeeper examined Bhola from top to bottom and muttered, “Education is getting cheaper day by day.”
But Bhola didn’t pay much attention to him. He entered the hall and started his examination.
After completing the test Bhola returned home. His mom asked, “How was the test”
Bhola replied, “Please don’t ask about it.”
He went to his room and lay idly on his bed.
Seven days later a postman came and delivered his mark sheet. Bhola was astonished to see what was printed on that piece of paper. He had qualified the exam. He jumped with joy and ran to mom. He gave her a kiss on her cheek and hugged her tightly. It seemed that all his premonitions about the backfire of the test were wrong. He now realized that it’s hard work not omens that builds a man’s career. He went to his room and looked at himself in the mirror. He realized that there was a transformation in him. He is a different guy now. He stared at himself for a minute when he realized that his inner-self was speaking to him. After his conversation with his inner self Bhola went to his mother.
He said, “Ma, you won’t believe what just happened. My inner-self spoke to me”
His mom replied, “So, what did it say?”
“It said; you have found the right path and will you continue to move along this road?”
“And what did you reply?”
“And yes I said yes I will yes” concluded Bhola.

Poetry: Let's fall in love

The Second World War started from the summer of 1939. This poem I wrote, expresses the feelings of a young boy who will be joining the war in the summer. He is uncertain whether he will return from the war alive or dead or whether he will have the chance to see his beloved maiden again. So he tells his maiden to fall in love during the Spring because they only have two months of Spring.

Let’s fall in love

Someday somehow!!!!
You came to my life and I don’t know how.
Let’s fall in love, it ain’t gonna last forever.
All we have is two months of Spring
This time isn’t that long as it seems
Let’s fall in love if we want to be together.

The sultry Summer will kill the mood
And the scorching heat won’t do any good
Let’s fall in love if we want this thing to last.
Soon the rain will drown the fleet
It’ll destroy all our hopes to meet
Let’s fall in love if we don’t want to sink.

The succeeding Autumn will wither the leaves
That’s the time when the Devil conceives
Let’s fall in love if we don’t want to be shed.
The frosty Winter will freeze everything
None of US can make it unfreeze
Let’s fall in love before we turn frigid.

So now my love, do you understand
Or is it still hard to comprehend
That we don’t have much time in our hands.
Soon the foes will figure out,
Then our souls will wonder about
Let’s fall in love before the Spring departs.

Poetry: You were the one

There are one or two people in this world, whom we love, but our "social environment" prevents us from being together with these people.
Yes,I had also gone through this feeling once and I know, how it feels to love someone dearly and at the same time know that it's impossible for us to be together.
So, I dedicate this poem to that person whom I loved a lot in the past when I was young, but at the same knew that we couldn't possibly be together.



You were the one

You were the one
For whom my eyes shake off slumber,
For you I can tolerate the pain of hunger.
Your sweet smile contains the innocence of daffodils
Your charming aroma smells like the breeze from the hills.

It was you, who kindled the flame of love in my heart
It’s you with whom I can never dream to part
I often used to wonder; if I am water you are life
So my love, is there any chance that you can be my wife?

You shine with the light from the sun,
But every sun has to set,
And by tomorrow you would have left.
So, I’ll console my heart thinking that
Every sunset is followed by a rising,
Every dark cloud has a silver-lining.

We may meet again several years from now
The feeling I possess now, by then would fade somehow
But you will always occupy a spot in my heart
A spot, which is hard to destruct

So, in the end I would like to thank you,
‘cause it was you who taught me to love.
You came to my life like a butterfly of the Spring,
And when you actuated the feeling,
You went away like an autumn dove.

With the passage of time I realized that
Some relationships are never meant to be.
But, this petty realization can’t forbid me from loving thee.
Even though in real life we couldn’t be together,
But in my dreams you’ll be mine forever.