Sunday, December 6, 2009 last.

Desperately coughing all day today,
Losing my breathe, gasping for more breathe....
How did I end up here?
I was supposed to be near the finish line by now...
How did I fall so far behind?
The crowd was supposed to be cheering for my victory...
Bitter memories now,bitter sweet memories.
I am here now...I must turn around and obey...
The ridiculing faces, the disappointed facades.
I must accept I have finally lost.
There is still time...on the big clock...
So my feet don't stir, though my eyes are faced back.
I have faced worse than this...
I have coughed worse than this.
At every finish line, I have felt more out of breathe.
So I run the last minute...
As the crowd glares on in shock.

I smile and take my place at last...
Well,somebody had to finish last...

Thin lines

Hunger strikes faith,

Beauty dies in labor,

Rivers rotting dry,

Glamorous, lonely stars..

Here I am in my selfish whims,

In so much of cold, soft skin,

My ambitious fake handwriting---

They’re all for you and for him.

With love...or not...

Umbilical disparage,

Look-alike strangers,

Misnomer last names,

And unsigned 'sorry' letters.

These are my eloquent white lies,

Inside such perfectly dirty thin lines,

Truth is I'm lying and not why

I am everyone’s little miss perfect.

Not Yours Only...

Here is how my faith is finally gone,

And why my grace is torn,

I’ve run out of paper…

Papers to burn,

And words to loan…

Some meaning to this liar's syndrome.

Thin dirty, scrawling lines…

Etched in my clammy palm,

I take the stage and clear my voice…

And I tell them…


I talk all day into the night…

Till I know I’ve crossed the thin line.

When it’s over, I could breathe


Blurry thin lines, bind me tight

And never let me do that again...

I'm caught by the cold of late November

Spurning out cold rage to the new year

Blindfold me,gag me and bind me tight,thin lines...

Thin lines, never let go of me



Sunday, September 6, 2009


The disparaging glare of the midday sun,
The tired yawns of midnight moon
And the coveted squirming through
Overcrowded,overhustled,overwhelmed rooms...
My room in my home,in my kolkata.
3 and they are still awake
Feigning sleep,some sleeplessness...
Humming,or smoking,or musing
Out the windows and windows break away
Flying across terraces,visiting each other...
My lovers,my soulmates of my kolkata.
Morning weighs heavy down on us,
Blanketing the smell of last night's burnt rain.
Obliging reminders,slower cellphones---
Hello,my ironies and my cynical friends,
Will my feet catch in a pothole
Or will a rickshaw curse at me again?
And will they make me smile again...?
At my mirages, my kolkata?
Waiting to escape your clutches for one day...
Waiting to hear your thoughts break surface...
Waiting to clot, and to fade...
Death by the tea-stall and eroded streets of accidents...
I pray that you survive that day.

Sunday, August 9, 2009


The foul-smelling ghost of a breath left

Upon the glass, proof of some theft

Will live on to relive the stealthy night,

Stories of missing treasures to find…

Ghouls of darkness will whisper no lie;

It will scream and shriek their might!

And I will merely mumble my fears

And crumble under the wearing linger

Of the omniscient fallacy called disguise…

But who will they weep for upon my demise?

Lies demean before your eyes,

They shriek with the living

And plead with the dying…

They reveal your secrets underlying

The professed sanctity of your Life.

Yet you forsake your only time,

Your second chance, your last trial…

Death shall only erase the triumphs

Of your vice upon the scars…

Never will it redeem your hands

Of the blunders that taint your chance…

Your fear remains in the confessions…

At the end, your single lone possession

And by the time your life whirls away…

Your only breathing and gasping prey…

Their treasures, your obsession,

Their loss and your cremation.

The night stands too still…

While a sage sings of Heaven…

The wind cleanses their sills

While we reap our ashes...

Thursday, July 2, 2009

My Life by the Hours

Sleepless the sound of nostalgia
Down in the chalets of remorse,
Folded the November pages of school diary
Leftover of battles, witness of war…
Humor me now, my articulate friends,
Reframe my flaws through my remains…
Leave nothing behind, for once, of this day,
Leave nothing behind to follow the sunset…

I am all yours today at own will
Never mind the penetrating pills…
The surrounding haze will soon pass forever
And I will wake up to dry grass…
Mesmerize me, hypnotize me…
Kill me, shred me, vitalize me…
Then turn the tables around by the hour,
And pass me the salt for all I can scour…
All I can scour…

Simmered afternoons in the waking,
Remember the gladiators’ swords…
Fighting unto the wishful demented finality-
Death- the worries fade to the end…
Burn everything when death does apart
My body and my ever-hovering past…
Save nothing for my grandchildren to contest
Save nothing for them to ever detest…


Nothing is forever, I learnt early.

I live by my rules for my uncertainties…

Are in nobody’s hand but my own

Like dust clinging to the hour’s hand

And hour hand takes me back

Down the same winding path…

Time and again, the hands await…

Monday, May 4, 2009

Randomness Thoughts about you

First rain of the year...or so it seems...
When was the last time we got drenched before today? Its been days i guess...
I saw a grasshopper flying out of the lake into the night...didnt you see?
Its 12:30...and I'm waiting for your call. I smoke this one...
I smoke this one to stay on longer with you in hell...just in case something happens in this lifetime.
Forgive me.

Friday, May 1, 2009

Hold The Thought

Hold the thought
You won’t live beyond.
Surface granules
Linger over the duels
And I callously hold it
The thought I mean;
It licks my exposure
I boldly come clean…

Have I lost you yet?
Haven’t I lost you yet?
Innocence converses
With all my differences.
I’m cracking sideways
I can see the ocean
Its blue tints my face
And bubbles choke my jargons…

I fall backwards
The other half of me…
And I can smell
The earth defending
My touch, my skin
So effervescently…
The hue of the open flesh
Kills the mahogany…
So I revert to my stand…
Swaying viscerally…
And nothing makes noise
Nothing takes the breeze…
But I stand nonetheless…
This half of me
I stand looking ahead…
Where you left me…

All in a second…
The phone says ‘no answer’,
Only fifteen rings…
And I trip over.
The thought is splayed
And you disappear…across the floor…

Saturday, April 18, 2009

A Lust of Wind- The Return to Roots

The constant and overpowering wafting of the scent of the rain that never came drove me crazy all day...and you were so beautiful. If not nature, you were...covered in the muck and sweat from the earth and air of all the places you took me with you...for all the cringing of my heart, I could never believe I betrayed you myself...

In the flickering torment
Of light and leaves,
Who shall win
The half-hearted wind?
Beneath the sunshine
Of the neon eaves,
I stand nowhere
I can rise and sink.
And in a trance and a sore-eyed blink
The lust vaporized as you walked in…

The freedom thrust
Into the incessant traffic,
Livid with the clatter
Of emerald hope,
Lingered long till
A crimson brick
Wall stood between you
And my road…
The lust returned as an impatient child,
And ran, it ran escapist and wild…

Dates of my diary,
Charred holes in pages
And cigarette butts
Nipped till the ends
No runaway homage,
Just a rampage,
Of the loveless miser,
Voiceless tramp.

And the wind is gone,
The light disappears,
It starts to rain…
Ecstatic,the leaves quiver…

NuMB SaTurdaY- The Reason and Reflex

Its been days since I was stoned....and you were uprooted.Its been days since I've ceased punishing myself for what happened and begun blaming you secretly for reminding me of my guilt...and the sins will never vanish, but my guilt pursuasion of pursuasion of pursuasion of...more sins....

The crushing gnawing of the saber winds,
Hear the mermaid tails of the branchless twigs,
The ghoulish laughter of the rustic bridge,
The distant tremor of our fleece of dreams...

Your face will always find your face,
Locked upon your two eyes,
In the mirror, among the mess,
Of faces many to be hoaxed by.

Numb Saturday,
I’ve broken the chains,
Numb Saturday,
I’ve opened the veins,
Numb Saturday,
Am I so profane?

While my candle quietly slays the wind,
The crafty retort of my battered innocence
Into your moist eyes, blinds their glint,
So close to your eyes so unsuspecting…

Your face will always find your face,
Locked upon your two hole-eyes,
In the mirror, among the mess,
Of faces many to be hoaxed by.
Numb Saturday,
I’ve broken the chain,
Numb Saturday,
I opened the veins,
Numb Saturday,
But I have not changed.

They called her witch when she was bound
To the stake through the ground
When she escaped they called her free
She was more than just the living.

Another Saturday
And I’m once again hiding,
Behind my illusions,
Defying what I’m fighting…
Lying to my sore
Promises no more…
This is how I feel
And this is how I heal…

On numb Saturday,
When I broke the chains,
On Numb Saturday,
I opened the veins,
Numb Saturday
Sit still and vain.

Monday, January 19, 2009

Not a Word

Every time you conquered your obligations to me,
Every time you surmounted your own sincerity
In the promises bidden to me,
You undid your own words,
You untied your faith
In the vices you grieved,
You magicked the pre-existing truth into a lie.
Even though you never said one word of lie.
Not a word.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Frozen Nib

The keel of these pages glares aghast
Across the seas of burning glass,
I have never strayed this far ashore,
Burning waves swollen thus galore.

Burn my trinkets of thee power,
Rejoice in the undying flavors-
Bliss, mercy, cowardice and praise
Bestow upon this disgrace.
Bestow upon my emblem…
To burn and to blaze…

Punish me, punish my will;
These stoned eyes have long lived.
When will I ever sober down?
When will this wrist begin to pound?

My frozen nib,
Will you ever forgive
My desertion today?
Will you sacrifice
More of your scarlet ink
To allay my old chains…?

The sweetest call of a cuckoo recoils
As it leaves no grace in my voice.
Why the evening bell of the ferry brings
To my memory this lilting ring?
No sound on earth seems to deem
More destined for only me…

I hope to be the only one to hear,
To own the secret of the boat.
Solitude stands between me and the river,
In the woods of the half road.

And I am also the only one to know of
The reason I came with you along…
The only one shall vanish into the river
With all you ever gave her.

My frozen nib…
Will you ever forgive…
For deserting you so anonymously?
Will you burn if I asked you
To do it alone for me?

Frozen nib
How do you forgive?
Every single day, I ask of you… this?


Thursday, January 8, 2009

Blue Realms

She stood, baby girl, with her baby curls smeared
With the scented shampoo of her mother’s drawer ---
In the doorway, dripping nose, and awkwardness
Not quite for the reason that was her hair or face.
Somebody tell her what will happen soon to her,
Somebody whisper to her pink translucent ears.
Somebody hold her, and tell her she will be alone
Somebody love her while she is still not gone.
In this hyphenated expressionless pasture,
What does one anticipate except more fear?
What does one hold on to but more insignificant years?
What can anyone do…but hate…hate… and bear?
The hand that holds her is never fatigued,
The grip merely shifts from lucid to stiff.
The words never fail to tell her to obey
The lips only defy what a human might say.
Might hey…

Don’t watch me fall, don’t watch me flinch,
Don’t watch me bleed my redundant stitch.
I am bleeding on your white clean floors,
Something your moon-grey roof can’t reach,
Something the sky in your land never will…
Only obsess with blood to swill…to spill…
To swill, to spill.
To swill, to spill.

This world is the fortune of no-man’s land,
Upon this dirt, the mesh of truth stands.
The watchtower safeguards the fumes
In the horizon that harbors the bloom-
Of the end of a baby’s first dream
And the beginning of her small realm.

Monday, January 5, 2009

Silencing Their Cure

Critters of the gallows do still wallow
In the last blink of a cold eye,
As the winter turns to swallow
All the cures of all our old crimes,
And nobody seems to quite know
Who to turn to with their foiling?
This planet’s rotundity the sun still resists,
As nothing comes to any real end.
As long as nothing comes out of crisis,
How can a day yet begin?
Do you wonder why your trail recedes
Every day, till it fades upon your feet?
Does eminence embellish what lies beset
The pain of a cure of a disease unknown?
Enough you have tried to cure your fate
Kill it shall, as it praised you to be born.
Staggering under sleeping-pills,
Ribs slackened against your breathe.
What were you trying to cure?
What did you think you could escape?

Their eyes wary, their lips parched
They have long searched for the divine touch.
But now they are sleepy, almost restlessly…
They have learnt to never feel lonely.
The cure or the incurable shall always be
Always very close to their heartbeat...
Always very close to where no one speaks;
Not the incurable...nor the cure.

Saturday, January 3, 2009


When you hypnotized me, I saw what you wanted me to see.
When you memorized me, I forgot every reason I laughed at me.

I let you in.I let you understand me.

And you let me misunderstand who I am to me.

I let you see me.I let you see me naked.

Now I can't see myself..anymore...any way...

I made you high, I made you sigh heavy.

You let me down to my mirror suddenly.

I let you fill my skin.I let your hands trickle down me...

You let me tear myself out of my twisted origami.

Into a thousand disdainful pieces...

That will call you occassionally.

I Thank You. A thousand Million times.

I Thank You for understanding me.

Who I am...or was when you hypnotised me...

I can't trust me anymore...anyways.

The Tryst of God

The crimson eye-shadow sees
What eternity once overlooked
Down the isle of frozen fallacies
In the land of dried-up brooks.
As you never came again
To bury what you had killed.

You will never see again…

How the feet scrambled,
Sloshed against the parapet floor
And limped over the threshold,
How it escaped into the vapid night,

An open wound to bleed to life…

The ripen flaws of your soul
Will remain forever locked
In those eyes, in the wound,
In the stagger of the eager walk.

On the glass in your eyes mayhem,
Hammer the tears of the heavens…
When she molded her demise
With the forgiveness in her dead eyes…

When the night descended slowly
You bargained your soul for her body.

What God you yield in your turning back
Who has no future, has no past!
You believed you yielded her eternity…

…So you left…

But she escaped.


The tree of Hope
Grows a little more
Each time a leaf falls.
The branches wither,
But the roots dig deeper
In search for the last drop
On this planet of water….
I shall try to be like it,
I shall go on to fight it,
My hurt, your pain,
My sad, your sorrow,
My today, your tomorrow…

So what happens next?
I want to know, tell me what you know!
What happens next?

Maybe in this lifetime
If you don’t happen,
In another, and another…
Not you but maybe us.
We will…and then
There’ll be story in our name,
With our faces a fountain…
Do you listlessly gaze?
Into the bleary distance
On a soldier’s funeral
Walking down the hall?
Do you smell the wall
Where his fingers crawled,
And wonder whether
He was your savior?
And whether you were
Meant to be together?

I shall try to be like it.
I shall go on to fight it.
My hurt, your pain
My sad, your sorrow…
My today, your tomorrow…

The rest, I don’t know…

The tree of Hope is still here.
Where It sheds its leaves every year.