On a drizzling July day...

On a drizzling July day..

A new place ushers me with all its may,

I fail to understand its virtues and vice...

And I hate to be here although it's nice.

On a drizzling July day..

The new greenery attracts all my say,

Life proves how lucky I am...

And I do not dislike it past the jam.

On a drizzling July day..

A few wonderful souls cross my way,

Friends they call themselves..blessings I call them..

Away from home..I've found some gem.

On a drizzling July day..

New friendships galore past what lay,

Limitless help, laughter and fun...

In great gratitude for this new run.

On a drizzling July day..

Life walks towards some serious bay,

Old promises to keep, new bonds to cross..

Love's labor should not be lost.

On a drizzling July day..

Life has started anew with all its gay,

To live to the fullest for this is a boon..

Let life decide what comes next moon.

Just….. This Much…

As much as the Glorifying dew on the February leaf…
As much as the slashing waves that Await the shore, onto which they leap,
As much as the Broken soil, that Covets the first drop of monsoon…
And, As much, as stars that Wish for the Full-moon;

As much as the kids first job, that brings parents’ ‘The Light’…
As much as the tick of the clock, that Lures the dumb night,
As much as the beggar who Craves a blanket, on the roady December lines..
And, As much as the cancerous soul, that Desires to be fine;

As much as it Feels to anticipate the first symptoms of parent-hood…
As much as the Dripping new mother, yearns to see her good,
As much as the Nostalgia of the years-later-home-bound kid…
And, As much as Kills to steal the parting bid;

As much as the new bride Cherishes the moment of being-Vermilion-ed…
As much as it Pains to learn “that kiss” was the end,
As much as the Empty-ness, that threatens the survival,
And, As much as the heart, Skipping a beat, to learn the age-old-lovers-re-arrival…

Do you know … 

How much? 

Not much, but yes…

You mean to me…

Just as much…

...As "This" much !

                                                            

Mone aache...???

Mone aache ek ochena otithi,
Kichu shomoy, ar kichu haanshi-iarki-thattha..?


Mone aache sediner Konkone Cornetto?

Sheyi lomba hanta poth ar thont-er er pash ta ke alto kore muchiye dewa?

Mone aache.. tor dui chokh,
Ar tader sheyi muhurter geye otha...’Bissash kor, ami je shottie bhalobashi’..

Mone aache… ‘Oi, kokkhono kaandbi na...’,
kichu hanshi o kichu oshrujol..?

Mone aache… Spain, France, South Africa,
Kichu shopno, kichu tushar-paat ar kichu Bhalobaasha?

Mone aache kichu Choya,
Ar shei je dui ‘Pherari Mon’..?

Mona aache…’Ami to ekhanei aachi’
‘Ami jabo na’, ‘Ami aashbo’, Ar ‘Ami chesta korbo’?

Bhulte cholechilam bastob aaj,
Purono smriti te hariye nijeke,
Shopno rajjo ke aankre dhore,
Khushir dheute je bheshechilam jore;

Phire esechi abar aaj;
Na, Mone chilo na Bhalobasha je ek Onnaye-oporaadh,
Shobtai je mitthe hoyeche… shomoye e je tar asto promaan,
‘Bastobe je baanch-te hobe’…Hyaan Mone poreche… abar aaj…

Shob Shopnoi e je Mone aache…
Bhebhe bol dekhi…Dosh ki shottie … amar tate..??

The Malignant Scar...

I was pushed down,
I was Bleeding,

They came to see me,

And I started healing,

I fell again,
Was hurt again,
The wounds were wrapped,
And scaled was it ..All over again..;

The scars have healed,

But still 'It' pains,
Nobody notices it,
But I know that 'It' still remains;

It kills by pinches,
But never shows a sign,
And the world presumes...
That I must be Fine..;


Oh now that 'Its' terrible one day,

I know 'Its' Malignant and can rip me some day,
Nothing collapses but Me and My Heart,
And still I resolve, never to let Him apart...

She...

She is like the Nurse protecting the new born,

She is like the Mother scolding the naughty kid,

She is like the ‘Didi’ fighting for the hurt master,

She is like the Aunt counseling the teenager,
She is like the Friend ever eager to help,
She is like the Sister demanding a gift,

She is like the Muse to inspire the poet,
She is like the Beloved to Love the Lover,
She is like the Wife responsible for all the care,

She is like the Partner of the old age,

She is the Un-named relation who silently prays,

And,
She is all that I find for you … 
Each tiny day … Every huge day! 

And.., Three hundred and thirty one days later, I still Miss to Miss 'them' all…

I Miss the opulent ‘Oii’,
I Miss the precious Princess,
I Miss the subtle smell,
I Miss the sensitive Sweetheart,

I Miss the ravishing rain that afternoon,
I Miss the ‘holding hands’ that evening,
I Miss the clear full moon that night,
I Miss the reassurances of Love that dawn,

I Miss the throbbing heart,
I Miss the promises of never being apart,
I Miss the token of remembrance never given to me,
And, I Miss the ‘khola hawa’ that loosened it all,

I Miss the eyes that that looked into mine,
I Miss the holiday plans amidst the snow,
I Miss the silent peck on the lips,
And, I Miss the feel that made me know every nerve of his,

I Miss the song by the river,
I Miss the confessions of a Lover,
I Miss getting scared and scolded,
And, I Miss not letting him leave again,

I Miss those confidence boosts when a test,
I Miss the care when a bad cold,
I Miss the tears wiped out by him,
And, I Miss the day he didn’t cross my mind,

I Miss the thousand kisses on the forehead,
I Miss them curl in the cold in one small shawl,
I Miss the hours waited for that look,
And, I Miss the hug that made them forget the world,

May be you Miss to understand me today,
May be you Miss to identify ‘them’ today,
But… You know what…
Three hundred and thirty one days later…
'They' still Miss to Miss you..,
And I still Miss to Miss them all…

Far Across the Fields Of Life...

Far across the Fields of Light,
I see shadows overtake me with all their might,
They compete, they chase, they flash, they gaze,
And the next moment, I lose them in the maze…

Far across the Fields of the Past,
I see myself standing on the mast,
I smile, I laugh, I Care, I Talk,
And the Tides of Life make me Lost…

Far across the Fields of Love,
I see two Lovers hiding from the world,
They Dream, They Believe, They Promise, They Caress,
And They Lose their Love from the realms of the terrace…

Far across the Fields of Memories,
I see each place and its backlogs with Life..,
It hurts, It haunts, It smiles, It taints,
And the fogs of remembrance makes it faint…

Far across the Fields of Time,
I misunderstand the conflicting emotions by the way you mime,
I confess, I explain, I try, I cry,
And I lose the Bond in frames of the lie…

Far across the Fields of Questions,
I wonder myself about the being of “I”..,
Am I a sudden gush of the southern wind …
Felt, enjoyed, loved and cared?
Or Am I the tormenting Tornado of the past?
That you let pass...without a word…

Far across the Fields of Musings,
I say to Mine that things will be Fine,
I Dream again, I Believe again, I Smile again, I Love again,
And I Pray again that my hopes are not lost in the Fields of Life again…