Porbo na tai likchi

The practice is gone and so is the touch and the urge to write. Gone are the days when blogging was a hobby to me, when I discovered I could write and express myself by writing – be it the diary or the blog. Choi and specially Sreo were great inspirations then. They still are. But lyadh gets the better of me. Its not good. Facebook helps but it destroys also. The creativity subsides. But you get a lot of friends and ‘friends’ and ‘cheap popularity’ (sarcasm fully intended – had to be unsubtle enough to mention this). And despite repeated promises to my diary that I will be back, I never returned. And the blog is like some very old diary lying in the attic covered in dust. But they have been good friends. But whatever. Doesn’t matter……………see my habit is just gone……….this is just shit stuff. Watched Babel. Blown off. And we still have people saying main hoon na and OSO are good movies!!! Yuk!!!! The final sems start from 19th this month and I have so far very carefully avoided even looking at my books coz it gives me guilty pangs. But it kinda bit me today. And kinda forced me to at least get my books lying with Shreya throughout the sems. *wide boka-boka grin* Not that it could stop me from going to South City to meet Aritra, Mayank, Rudra and co. and watching Mir and Brett Lee perform and gobble up momos and phalyas from Denzong. But at least my books are with me!!! 2:47 at night is not really a good time to start studying. So just doing some ‘academic’ activity by writing! *Broader grin*. And Chelsea lost to ManU. *boooo hoooo hoooo*. Off.

Storm

A storm. Yet to pass. It blinded me. Didn’t know where to take refuge. Screamed,ran,bumped ,fell down. No one. Courage. Courage. Come to me. Courage grinned. Sadistically. Tears started winning. A hand, a face, a soul! Were we not to face the storm together? You chose greener pastures. I was left to fight the storm. An empty infinity. The storm makes you err. To err is human. But I was fighting. Just with the storm. For a better us. Now. Now I have to fight the storm, I have to fight me. A me. A good me. A me wanting us. That me still speaks. The other me tries to stab it. Alas! But that me doesn’t die. Its immortal. It’s a spirit. Abstract. Omnipresent. Tears came. Tears saw. Tears conquered. No it didn’t. it dried up. If only the tears could conquer! Those are drops of rain you see. As if the storm wasn’t enough. Down came the rain in full flow. The storm and the rain. Its battle between them also. I don’t walk alone. I walk with my ‘me’s. Screaming silence keeps me awake. And the ‘me’ reside inside me!

The little red bud

A little red bud-
Chose not to wake up.
Full of life,full of fun
The red bud promised much.
The sun shone brightly,
The wind blew lightly.
But the little red bud
Feared a life full of fun.
The flowers pleaded,
The leaves requested
Her to wake up.
But the little red bud
Just won’t wake up!
She feared the bees sting,
The pecking of the birds.
But never opened her eyes
To see how beautiful is the earth.
The sun gave her light,
And a little bit of life.
The bud peeped out a little.
And got a taste of mirth.
She got a bit of rain;
And the bud feared again.
She closed herself down,
And gave the sun a frown.
The sun called and called,
‘Come out of your shell,
You’re living in a hell’
But the little red bud
Won’t wake up!
The sun had the power,
To turn her into a flower.
The sun just knows
What a wrong path she chose.
The little bud is dying
The sun is crying.
‘wake up,there’s still some time’
As long as the sun still shines…

If Only

If only.
I remain awake till very late
At night
Hoping
If only
The cell phone buzzes
A call
Or maybe a message
Or maybe just a call missed
A sign of life
If only..
I open the chat window
Beforehand
In expectation
Maybe I expect a lot more
Than what I should
If only
I could get a little
Sign of life
If only
That certain emotion
Didn’t touch me
If only
I could be
A piece of log
If only
Life can be rewound
If only
I wake up
From a dream
A nightmare
If only…
If
Only…………………………..

Bath

Went for a bath. In the shower. Have stopped bathing from the bucket a long time. A bath of contriteness, of guilt,of repentance.

….bhabona kahare bole
….jatona kahare bole

The water gushed out. No change in the way it comes out. It comes out everyday in this way only. Would have liked more force today. But how can it know. It has life. How can it understand what a lifeless object like me craves for?????

….tomra je bolo diboso rojoni
………………………….………..
…………………….. kare koy
….se ki kebole jatonamoy

So it came out. I decided to shampoo. I had already done my beard and moustache last day. No point doing it today also. It drenched me. My hair, my face, my chest, my arms,my pelvis,my legs,my feet. It drenched me. Rested my arms on the wall. Hung my head. And then raised my head. The water fell on my eyes. It probably hid a lot of things. Or did I cry at all??

………seki kebol e chokkehr jol
seki kebol e dukher shash
loke tobe kore ki sukher e tore
emon dukhero aash………….

I hung my head again. The bath continued. The bath of compunction. A painstaking bath of penitence. I kept humming a song. Or did I? Its all in the head. Or somewhere else??

…..fool se hasite hasite jhore
jochhona hasiya milaye jay
hasite hasite alok sagare…….

My eyes closed, the water fell directly on my forehead,on my eyes. The light shone beyond the water gushing out. I opened my eyes. I saw the light. But couldn’t keep my eyes open. Never destined for the light. The light is too sad. And I’m too happy……

……amar moto sukhi k ache
ay sokhi ay amar kache
sukhi hridoyer sukher gaan
suniye toder jurabe pran…….

I started shampooing & soaping myself. The lather was quite a bit. Went into my eyes. Generally it itches. But it didn’t. I washed myself. A desperate attempt to wash off all the sins. An attempt so that I can be sad again. Sadness just eludes me. Lets be happy then my friends……

protidin jodi kadibi kebol
ekdin noy hasibi tora
ekdin noy bisad bhuliya
sokole miliya gahibo mora

If,if only,if only a bath could wash off all your sins…………………………………………………………………………..

:) :| :(

Feel like crying. Just crying. On and on.
But I can’t. And that’s not good at all. Me not being able to cry is not at all a good thing.
I’m silent.
Serene.
Calm.
Numb.
Dead.
Music.
Books.
I walk. I want to run. I can’t.
Impossible is nothing.
But I can’t.
My fault.
But I can.
For you a thousand times over….
A hug heals

Polled

Municipal elections took place today. My first municipal vote & my second vote in my life! For once I actually decided to go for the “refuse to vote” option & exercise my right to refuse my vote. (A certain article 49-O of the Indian constitution allows you to do so) Entered the room. Me and mom & there was no other voter at that particular time in our room. And there were at least 8-9 polling officials. Seemed like a huge number at that time. Mom’s procedure went on smoothly. She got verified & cast her vote(to whom I refuse to spill out for obvious reasons).
And then it was me-predecided to refuse my vote. Got my verification done. Signed the copy reverse. God knows why but that what the officials insisted upon. Maybe they saved a bit of ‘hard’ work in this way!!! The ‘hard’ work of turning the copy every time someone signed.
And then I said “ami amar vote ta cancel korte chai”
One replied “mane?”
Another said “eta abar ki? Erom hoy na.”
“Cancel korben mane”
“Ami vote dite refuse korchi”,I explained.
“O achha haan ota hoy,kora jay”,said one of the polling officials.
“Haan eta koriye dichhi thik e,kintu apni amader khatalen besi.Ekhn amader khatte hobe abar”,a visibly reluctant official replied.
He wrote down “refused to vote” beside my name,visibly dissatisfied by the extra khatni I imposed on him.
I went on to get the voter mark on my hand when the person giving the mark said “apni to vote e denni keno debo daag?debo na.”
“Apni bhul korchen ami vote diyechhi,niyom onujayi apnake kali lagatei hobe”,I replied.
“E abar kemon vote dewa holo,keno kali lagabo?”,asked the person controlling the EVM.
“Etao ek prokar vote dewa,kali lagan”,replied the official who seemed to be the most knowledgeable of the lot.
And there was I. Democratic right fully exercised while being a good citizen.
But the furore I created in a calm & quite polling booth with some ignorant officials just by refusing to vote proves one thing. That the common people hardly know theirs rights & some of the basic rules of the game. This refusal to vote after registering yourself in a polling booth is to me a slap to all those politicians and parties to whom the only thing that matters is exploitation of power. I’ll not take any names coz all the parties are same at the end of the day. The very fact that none of the political parties let know the common people of 49-O proves that what they care is selfish gain. Exploiting the common people of their basic rights. I’m sure only a handful of Indian citizens(specially Bengal citizens) know of this rule. Had they known it I personally feel a huge number of people wud have chosen this path.