The word "Love" is as dry as funeral drum and smells like funeral pyre.........

Nameless

Day after day and night after night,
I pretended to be so right.
Sometimes amidst a gloomy idle day
I feel the shades of grey,
That creeps into my life;
And robe me off all of my vibes.
I stride down with a blurred vision;
Catching up the dash of crimson,
Diffused all over the sky-
And I am left with an overwhelming sigh!
I pace slowly,languidly through the shadows
Of my room and peep through the glass windows-
The nature outside resides in a dour mood;
With grey clouds floating all aorund.
Time ticks away,a gloomy passes into a tired mind;
And the shadows fade into the shades of night.

Always Back to The Rain

Day by day expressions and feelings are buried in the cenotaph of numbness and stoicism. I sit down idle looking through the window, lost into the chirping birds hovering around the Pipple tree around the corner at the afternoon while the tinge of crimson red of the dieing sun softly falls on them. Then at some some night there comes the rain.I settle myself in the balcony during the shower and look at the bereft tree branches in the backdrop of the grey-coloured cloudy sky. You feel that someone or something has robbed the poor trees of their green leaves, symbol of life. So they are still standing still in the rain lifeless. But rain is like a whiff of cool breeze, a touch of life, a sense of freshness. These trees seem to pine for the rain, its inherent cool warmth. The raindrops slide down their branches as if the crystal clear raindrops kiss them with all their adoration.Grey clouds prevail. Magic all around - the soft parade of raindrops all over the tree branches, indignant fall of another host of raindrops through the green leaves around, small rivulets of flowing rainwater in the roadsides-all these sounds resonate to a magical spell all over the surrounding and the cold freshness prevails. So this tired soul is always back to the rain.

Dreamwalk...

I dream away…..about a long winding road….trees on the both side. The dawn mist is diffused with the canopy of the invigorating green leaves. I am walking, all alone….staring at the crimson sky, where the sun is about to come out….I am walking down the road, a road to nowhere. Suddenly at the crack of the dawn the first light of the day streamed in filtered through the canopy of the leaves and fell on me, touched me at my arms…gently moved up through my body up to my face. My long staring eyes glowed in the yellowish glow of the sunbeam and I keep dreamwalking. The sunlight kisses my leaps gently and I feel the warmth in it, relish it to my heart’s content….she plays with me, falling on my void chest sometimes and nurturing my hair undulating in the cool breeze of the hill retreat. Today where is she? None like her in reality. That is why I dream away…away from this harsh reality which binds me in infinite turns, I am like a failure actor trying hard to act to tune me up with this reality .But I stumble as an actor all alone. I am trying to be a good dog without a bone.

But every time I am spent up of acting I go back to my dreamwalk, I dream away with the music and sound of drums and strumming of guitar running through my veins. I can sometimes vividly recall staring at the basantabouri(a yellow colored bird) sitting on the branch of the tree in the garden…I stare in mute astonishment, she’s too indignant shifting from one branch to the other, I don’t recall how she cooed but I watched her until a slight disturbance that made her fly away…..far off….she never showed her off again…..suddenly alarm rang and I had to shake my dreams out of my hair. Almost everything I cherish is gone. Only left is the memories. That is why I walk down that memory lane time and again.

A Peep in The Past

Today i am far from Kolkata.I am for the moment alone in a house in Bangalore...but living very much in2 bengali right now. Its well past midnight, around 2 at night. A very cool jeweled moon outside, a few days after the fullmoon. If you just stand on the balcony for a while you'll be drenched by the silvery moonbeam.I looked at her. There is a tree nearby stripped of her leaves.Throughout the bereft branches i can see the sillhoutte of the moon smiling at me.Silence prevails all around me except some sudden barks of street dogs and the monotonous sound of the whirling ceiling fan from a neighbour's house.Suddenly i sail through , a trip in a flash of a second.A different time ,a different place but the same myself.I can see again a smiling face.But this time not only smiling but smiling and talking.No tree branches but indignant hair falling over her face time and again.I stared at mute astonishment..My joyful eyes fell on the little , very little mole at the right corner and just below her lips.You need to look at it for sometime while she's smiling to appreciate it as you need to stare at the moon to find out her holes and caves. Something about her was so cool ,so fascinating like tonight.This night will be lost forever but similar nights might come to cast its magical spell on me.But she already cast on me that day ...it was not a everlong session, a few brief moments of fascination but to cherish all along , still eternally placed in the heart and in some silvery night it comes up from the bottom crossing all the loads of memories and again lost into oblivion.She is lost.Lets come back to where i am.Its better this way...because if i keep on peeping i will soon start to dreamwalking back again and will be lost in the mesmerizing smile.But at the end all I would feel is nothingness...So let me come back and wind it up for today.