Shedin (That Day)

Jeebon indrojaler bibhido mudra dekhe
Hotobak holam
Jege chilam, shedin sojag holam
Tumi chile pashe –
Tomar montai khanik hijibiji chobi e(n)ke
Stobdho hoye roilam
- Tumi dheer, gambhir
Tobu asha nirashar godhulite
rokteem ek swapner sporsho pelam
Shudhu mele dhora tomar aakankhabhora aanjali dekhe
Shedin khubdho r shonkito holam

Tomar anunoy erate parini shedin
Tai nibhite nirjone, Ningre dilam indriyo gulo,
Abluptir majhe bujhi pelam amar thikana
Du- pho(n)ta bhalobasha diye lekha…

CTRL+ALT+DEL corruption

Concepts like 'freedom', 'choice' are
(i) very individualistic AND hence relative,
(ii) with shifting priorities and competing choices they alter over time
(iii) they cannot be absolute, for forces of governance, civil-society, market and media act and react at an individual and collective level for sub-sets of populations to experience 'freedom'/'choices'.

Thus the dividing line between corruption and anti-corruption is not just thin and sensitive, but mostly marked with a lens of convenience. It’s also philosophized and justified as "a bit of lie for a bigger good is fair enough" and taking it even further stretching to tickle our mortal and moral quotient by saying "beyond these there is an after-world, wherein the mathematics of good and bad, right and wrong are seemingly clearer, so better be-ware'.

Well, public-good vs private benefit, if that is the indicator to draw that line, with corruption being endemic one wonders where to begin from, and whom to end with.... Weeding it out bit by bit or ensuring mechanisms to wean the system, too domesticated to the 'itna to chalta hai ji' strategy, or insulating our selves apathetically from large-scale scams, while continuing with the small scale ones?

Moral-policing of self might be the first step to CONTROL greed and desirous expectations), ALTER(the ways/means to reach/achieve)the goals and finally DELETE malices and malpractices- corruption in thoughts and practice...WHAT SAY ???

falgudhara

Premer ek gobheer ashwad, aaborno swapnaguloke rangiye tulechilo,

Asharer meghe shedin bujhi jouboner baan uthechilo-

Unmotto mon, naki churno kuntol ...naki rondhe rondhe ek ojana spandan?

Hatre berai ek swapnil oboyober, naki tora bandhe kichu jhore pora swapner?

...E klanti noi, bibranti noi...srantir shupti matro.....

A new year's break

It was around 11 in the night ...27th December in Delhi...the mercury must have dipped down modestly below 5 degrees. i was feeling too cold to wash the utensils after dinner.....and was in a mood to procrastinate till the next morning......dwindling between when i would feel less cold to wash them in the night or early morning ..... almost like a choice between the Devil and the Deep Sea...

Nothing 'new' all through the day other than the 'news' of the assassination of Benazir Bhutto. it moved me ....may be more coz when the mind first started getting signals of the political colours, it was the Rajiv Gandhi and Benazir Bhutto regime....and of course the aura of these two young leaders was amazingly appealing...when i was in my teens.

In retrospect was just wondering, how the ''means" to their "ends", were so similar. If i tend to forget the fact that there are so many socio-religio-political forces, whose interpplay determine such consequences, it just boils down to one question....'how powerless are the powerful too".....and how must have these individuals felt ....at that spur of the moment ....when they are blown to a thousand pieces or when the bullet smashes those gray cells...which have been trying to determine the future of many.........

....as a common (wo)man, without the strokes of RK Laxman, as much as i thought of which would be the best time to wash the utensils...may be these are people who think which is the best way to kill and what is the best way to die....Dont know....small minds ...smaller worlds ...

Standing at the threshold of 2007...when, otherwise it would have been natural to browse through Yahoo or MSN Greetings and send you all wishes for 2008, i am just recapitulating. Last year also, while half the TV channels were busy with the new year fervour of 2007, live shows filled with jazziness and glitter the rest of the news channels were showing the execution of Saddam Hussain.....and how he wished that his head is not covered when the hangman performs his act.... This year also it would be similar ....analysis of Bhutto's assassination at one end, fear of its aftermaths....and the 'new year celebrations.

As a plebein, i find very difficult oscillating between such contrasting happenings...in fact bewildered and baffled, not being able to decide, which faculty of mine should reign, the responsible citizen, or the free one......and finally it might be another cold weekend for me, some special cuisine for the householsd, some paintings for myself and flickering thoughts of some pending work in office....we all have our own ways out !! as Tagore mentions in "Threshold" :-

The child cries out when from the right breast
The mother takes it away..
In the very next moment to find, in the left its consolation .......

Yesterday, Today... Tomorrow.

I might not
Crave so much to die
or even
Strive so much to live

IF
You - 'the tempting tomorrow' werent
OR
Me - 'the today', would've been less greedy
AND
She - 'the yesterday' wouldn't be a sexy addiction

But that's it how it is
All because she came between us
the haggereing 'she' who kept eating between 'you' and 'me'

Till the blasting coercion
When all exploded
In blood and flesh
A sweatful mesh
Morals maimed
Wishes nailed

..And still I'm afraid
I might crave so much to die
..and yet, survive to live

Season is Seasonal

Season is Seasonal
The elliptical orbit
Unaware where revolution initiates
In the heat waves or the biting frost?

Season is Seasonal
The deciduous
Uninformed caught between- the fall season and the tender foliage

Season is Seasonal
The perinneal riverine
Wonders its meanders through its deiminishing and overflowing quantum

Season is Seasonal
The tadpole surprised
With its auricualr metamorphosis

Season is Seasonal
The solitary reaper
Bewildered at the camouflaging sky

Season Seasonal though
OR
Rythmically Perinneal

Ages all
Seniles the conifers
Wrinkles the landscape
Exhausts the estuary
Retires the aves
...Fossilates the rumbling wind

The Mock-Knock

I await that knock
For that faceless face

the KNOCK
Which beats soft on the door
..and hard on the bosom

the KNOCK
In which I sense your wet lips
In which I gaze through your eyes

the KNOCK,
Which reminds the last time you came
the KNOCK
Which reiterates the prolonged longing
the KNOCK
Which whispers to meet my frozen emotions
the KNOCK
Which shatters the multitudes of my shelled silence

the KNOCK
Which knocks me off once again
...and MOCKS
For I was dreaming again..

Beneath the ground- lies life or dead !!

As my thoughts rained onto you
My clouded mood gloomed thy spirits
-And I delivered those impregnated melancholies

...Which sprouted each grain of love
Saved for the next season

But, Worry not for the starving days ahead
For again the billows of desperation
Will strike the walled desolation
...for the torrential passion
To erode the strata of sheathed frigidity
..and germinate the solitary kernel, buried DEEP

The Day

The day I perish
Postmortem my smiles
Those fictitious ones
Which veiled those tears

The day I perish
Have mercy on my mischieves
Those naughty ones
Which made me survive some(more)years

The day I perish
Bury my talketiveness
Those unending words
Which meaninglessly invaded your silence

The day I perish
Forgive my confiddence
The upright smartness
Which forgot to seek your permission

The day I perish
Be kind enough-Not to wake me up
Just pat me your last lullaby...

PALINDROME

Seen the toil in a retired life
Sensed the nupital bond in the lifelong tussle
Got enthused through that postmortem report
Visioned through those non-reflecting eyes
..and thus seasoned to LIVE with the DEAD

...Who knows whether they are the 'shadows' of life ..or I, a 'phantom' myself ?

Oxymorons

A grief can be sarcastic
A smile can be tearful
A dream can sustain a life
A commitment can just be poetic


.....dedicated to the most awaited missed call or a small sms from the coveted person or just a tender leaf in a plant, which has enabled me to strive for the day

Introducing (Mrig)Thrishna

A grain of sand:

Which radiates hastily, and then gets condensed with the sunset, dry and coarse
The spiny cacti and wriggling arthopods are its vibration
The sandunes forms the undulating ripples
Hurricanes and sand storms are its spirit
Caravans and nomads are the visitors
Distant date groves forms its habitation
Oasis, its solace

...and its life- The Mirage

God knows.....

Hey Diabolic......

Dont take the trouble of calling me a friend
The God of passion will be angry with you-

Dont ask me to be formal for friendship's sake
The God of emotion with be angry with you-

Dont ask me to be crowded in deserted solitude
The God of tolerence will be angry with you-

I needed some space to nestle my vernacular feelings, that are rendered homeless...and you offered it by your own
I too was happy with the embryonic attachment, Now dont ask me for the rent, The god of mercy will be angry with you-
.
.
.
Are you feeling sorry for me or afraid of the Saviour?
I assure, Though my heart is broken, the pieces are few :-)

Autonomy in Vaccuum

Some unbrushed though freshening conversations
Clinging to the 'you'ness through multitudes of barren episodes
A widowish pang of belongingness, clutching to your fair slender fingers
...and the sting of your love felt through the blue thread-knit three-holed buttons

The horizon beckoned - the meridien clear and stark
Yet as I stretched out for the clear sky - they were just pieces of clouds - niether clear nor dark

(the original bangla note)
Bashi mukhe shei tortaja bahukhoner kathapokathan
Na paowar gathagulor modhye kothai u(n)ki dei partheeber andolan
Sangsporsher ek korun abeg
Tomar farsha angulgulor modhye ek uplabdhito kompon
Trichidro oi botamgulor modhye bash kore jeno premer dongshon...

------ Buddha Poornima, 2011

The Munnar Rain(s)FALL

OH! my stars of destiny
Who've ceased to twinkle
..in my sky of luck..

When you fall as a ball of fire
you'll burn me too

but with the falling stars
I'll make my last wish -
- to hide behind the rain laden clouds
- and shower off all the odds and evils

Being so near to heaven
Falling so close to the earth
So blackened by myself...
...That you stars, would not dare shine anymore

The thunderous lightning would dazzle me hard
The thunderbolts would would whip me
To FALL FALL and just FALL....

Just grant me this wish my FALLing stars, that I too have the luck to FALL.

peace by piece

Vacuum never exists.......darkness is an imagination....
Red n green? mere conception .....hyphenated by speed, doppler effect!
Life?... summation of partial differential equations....unsolved....unresolved.... inequality keeps questioning.....yet, imagination triumphs.....the immaculate sky turns out to be your veil....translucent.....and me?..... a shooting star.....intangible...sailing through the nebula

Night after night I hear myself say ...
Why cant this feeling just fade away ...
There is no one like you ... you speak to my heart ...
Its such a pain, to be zones apart ...