I know I am strange..but how strange am I? To some a complete unknown living or dead or unmovable creature...i have never turned around to see that frown...hanging around on my own like a wandering soul...time around me keeps changing...i sometimes remain unchanged...running on my toes to catch those strings of the little puppets....

as it is present now...will later be past...the future comes too soon so I dont bother myself much bout the future...as I woke up in the middle of the night....rising from my dream to take a step further into the real world...the wind was heavy...i offered him my hands but he took me by his arm...i knew it wasnt him I was craving to be with...i knew it wasnt him...but I secretly accepted him...i hadnt wanted to be with him...yet I couldnt let him go...i am sorry for what I have done....but I just did it...

I walked endlessly...down the narrow lanes..up the hilly trails...thru the forests...stopping by the river...and met hungry children crying for food...the war was still on...people lived on roads without food, shelter and clothes...

the oceans roaring...dead people scattered on the shore...no one to burn their mortal bodies...the cold has engulfed the rest...i walked down every alleys to get away from the scene....but failed...its still pounding on my brain...

there are still sweet pretty things in life...like a baby so beautiful in her mother's womb....like the rainbow on the horizon after a rain....like the rising sun painting snow capped peaks....like the pounding heart to waiting to meet his beloved during the spring...like the moon so beautiful when it shines thru the trees...

like walking alone in the rain...and when u are in a trance...everything around u fades and blends into one color....when u have no way to go...no home...no one you need to care for....

how does it feel? To be on your own...with no direction home...complete unknown...like a rolling stone...

a day to office

Waking up
brushing teeth
newspaper
brushing teeth
coffee
bath
breakfast
dressing up
breakfast
missing socks
irritation
shoe lace
lock
cell phone
bus stop
cell phone
crowded bus
good bye smiles
crowded bus
pushing inside
sweat
heat
shouts
push
sweat
holding on to the rod
more push
irritation
sweat
conductor
shouts
stamping feet
feud
more argument
sweat
odor
pushing
stoppage
push harder
push
push
getting down
fresh air
arranging dupatta
cell phone
auto line
wait
call wait
irritation
redial
call wait
auto
line break
push
argument
crowded bus
push
sweat
odor
shouts
push
ticket
stoppage
crossing road
heavy traffic
speedy cars
step back
step forth
speedy cars
step forth
crossed
office lift
line
wait
more wait
7
8
9
8
7
6
5
4
3
2
1
0
push
crowded lift
odor
claustrophobic
2
3
4
5
6
push
login

With a humming heap of activity amidst a cosmopolitan atmosphere, my Kolkata is the most charming place on earth...

check out the rest here...

the first things in life are worth remembering. The first silence, the first exchange of looks, the first rain drops after a dry, yet fertile summer days. rains are like angles with wings of desire, never tired of floating from the sky of one heart to another. the rains on a child's eyes, on green leaves and the on window pane. the chattering, blabbering of the drops when it flows through the pipe. the music played by these drops are innocently composed by the grey clouds. the smell of earth when soaked by these drops of innocence is like the aroma of my child's breathing. the crowne eluded the mighty hands of all seasons .... rains have always been compared to love. rains can never be caged, they elope with the matured clouds of emotions... rains on my palm, the feeling the numbs senses, you die so many times in the arms of rains, not to repent the death ......... rain

The monsoon has arrived...and it has hit the city in full form.... drenching its people, flooding its streets and scattering crushed leaves and broken branches of uprooted trees the rain and storm engulfed the city rather than overwhelming it....a little boy staying next to our apartment tried to float paper boats in the water puddled all around....the wind was sharp....my heart yearned to reach out to the little boy and help him sail his boat....

the rain always gives me a news life....it works as a strange excitant for my soul. It brings out a child in me with every drop falling on my face....i looked up to catch a glimpse of rekha boudi who perhaps have retired from her household work and might have taken a break to her balcony after lunch...i feel amazing to see her....rekha boudi is educated and intelligent...yet she has compromised her career and surrendered herself to live the life of a nurse for her old feeble father in law...she was looking at the grey sky and perhaps thinking of what was and for what is not... did I see a few meaningless tears rolling down her cheek?? or was it the rain that have sheltered me into a mellow tone....??

the rain has always evoked poetry, music, love and unruly passion in mee...i yearn to make love with someone when it rains to heavily....under the open sky, rain pouring down on us.....for many times I have spent lazy afternoons gazing at the rain from my window and thinking of my high school love....

rain is always loved and cherished by mee....its such a welcome relief...there had been many afternoons and midnights when I had sat gazing at the downpour for hours....my bengali poetic heart had felt the sweet bitter pain of nostalgia....i had thought of the days when I was forced to catch a crowded bus and head to work when the most I craved for was to meet you...i had called you up every time it rained to say how badly I wanted to be with you and you have made mee understand how important it was for both of us to go to work and how impossible for you to meet...with wet eyes I pretended to be an understanding lover...

I sank in pain when u uttered those words....did u feel good when u hurt mee?? did u feel good when u broke my heart?? did u feel good when u heard mee crying?? did u feel good when I said I was broken inside?? I had been so stupid all these days...making a fool of myself...and u must have felt sorry for this brainless woman who wasted all her life to love you more...u must have laughed a thousand times when I spoke words of love to you...did it ever make any sense??

last night I dreamt I went to the hills again....the green and blue rolling mountains wrapped in early morning hues took my breath away....was someone with me there?? anyone?? uh I cant recall....I feel am getting older...cant remember half of the things really...i started walking down the winding ways fluttering my hands...i do it all the time...it makes me feel as if I am flying... I kept on walking, running, flying...while I hummed Dylan's favorite “how many roads must a man walk down before u can call him a man....” the cold wind was cutting through my face....i was happy and felt like a princess.....one more turn and I came face to face with the majestic beauty of snow capped Kanchenjunga....what I saw was beyond my wildest imagination...the Himalayan peaks tore into the blazing blue sky of the breaking dawn....

someday......

Someday, maybe, I'll just be independent...just not need a firm shoulder to lean on...just not wait for the phone to ring that will comfort mee...just not wait to see the button green as I login to gtalk...just not expect those sweet nothings on my cell phone's inbox.....I'll stop telling myself that I am capable of fulfilling all my desires.... I'll perhaps know that I suffice.... I'll finally start wearing bright colors... I'll stop thinking about the times we have spent together... the neat little cushion of time that have gone by... it is the most comfortable thing of my life after the cozy corner of my bed....

I have already started feeling swish, and important watching movies alone... I buy myself perfumes and chocolates when I so dearly want them... I go to cool ice-cream parlors and coffee bars in the most posh shopping malls and treat myself with a chocolate brownie with ice-cream or simply black coffee... I'll not find another man...wouldn't mind this obnoxious price I have to pay.... I'll stop bothering about the merciless ridicules....

Someday I'll not need a shoulder....someday I'll sleep on my own....

Often I think of the beautiful town
That is seated by the sea;
Often in thought go up and down
The pleasant streets of that dear old town,
And my youth comes back to me.
And a verse of a Lapland song
Is haunting my memory still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I can see the shadowy lines of its trees,
And catch, in sudden gleams,
The sheen of the far-surrounding seas,
And islands that were the Hesperides
Of all my boyish dreams.
And the burden of that old song,
It murmurs and whispers still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I remember the black wharves and the ships,
And the sea-tides tossing free;
And Spanish sailors with bearded lips,
And the beauty and mystery of the ships,
And the magic of the sea.
And the voice of that wayward song
Is singing and saying still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I remember the bulwarks by the shore,
And the fort upon the hill;
The sunrise gun, with its hollow roar,
The drum-beat repeated o'er and o'er,
And the bugle wild and shrill.
And the music of that old song
Throbs in my memory still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I remember the sea-fight far away,
How it thundered o'er the tide!
And the dead captains, as they lay
In their graves, o'erlooking the tranquil bay
Where they in battle died.
And the sound of that mournful song
Goes through me with a thrill:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I can see the breezy dome of groves,
The shadows of Deering's Woods;
And the friendships old and the early loves
Come back with a Sabbath sound, as of doves
In quiet neighborhoods.
And the verse of that sweet old song,
It flutters and murmurs still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I remember the gleams and glooms that dart
Across the school-boy's brain;
The song and the silence in the heart,
That in part are prophecies, and in part
Are longings wild and vain.
And the voice of that fitful song
Sings on, and is never still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

There are things of which I may not speak;
There are dreams that cannot die;
There are thoughts that make the strong heart weak,
And bring a pallor into the cheek,
And a mist before the eye.
And the words of that fatal song
Come over me like a chill:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

Strange to me now are the forms I meet
When I visit the dear old town;
But the native air is pure and sweet,
And the trees that o'ershadow each well-known street,
As they balance up and down,
Are singing the beautiful song,
Are sighing and whispering still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

And Deering's Woods are fresh and fair,
And with joy that is almost pain
My heart goes back to wander there,
And among the dreams of the days that were,
I find my lost youth again.
And the strange and beautiful song,
The groves are repeating it still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

JAI HO

Well this years Oscar – It was never this close to my heart. I had worked upon it for months. Writing reviews, gossips and news updates. The 2009 Oscar Prediction keyword went up to rank 3^rd in google search engine. I have raised my voice for Slumdog, fighting with all my friends those who predicted the film would be bashed up at the event.

And yes, how happy I was, writing live news updates while the Oscar took place. I was in office since 5 in the morning watching the stars dazzling Red Carpet in designer wear. And I cant express the way I cheered every time Slumdog bagged a nod.

I hear everybody speculate about 8 Oscar nods of the rags to riches story. But hey guys do u remember that the highest degree of cinematic excellence is awarded at the Oscars where films like Titanic take home 11 nods? So what even if the most boring, bespectacled, loaded with intellect, salt and pepper haired cynical critics have written off Slumdog Millionaire? I am happy for my own country's win. I am happy that Rahman has become the first Indian to win 2 Oscars. Whatever it is... I, like an average minded person, only feel that OUR Rahman has swayed 2 Oscar nods.... Now its our Rahman….no more communal colors guys!

dark circles

Our love will never end...Every time, I was made to live my life without u, I wished I could tear myself away from the mess...long sleepless nights, pillows dampen with choked sobs, a night-long of wait until random thoughts start rumbling...i walk to gaze at the beggar sleeping on the footpath near the light post on the other side of the window. Without me, I thought the whole world could sleep...even u... Like I desperately want to. Sleep in peace...at least tonight... memories were cluttering in my mind....I dreamt poems I wrote when I fell in love...ten years too late...wish I could borrow my dreams I had dreamt then to see you once....dark circles fill a larger part of my face...if u weren't there I would have my own mornings, my own little triumphs, my won joys and celebrations...i am now a selfish soul...i laugh to see the sadness in his eyes...i puke when my friends share their sorrows with mee....i ball to see him suffer....

We met...after a long time...we were not destined to...yet we met...and as we had thought...we ignored...did he wanna clear d air???...i thought....my heart was beating faster as our eyes met...now it was my turn...i will make him feel like an insect....make him want mee...want to speak to mee...but it's of no use...everything has changed...twas too late...there would be no choice of going back now...hmph...i wish d pages were written in pencil...an eraser would have sufficed...but then d impressions remain...

amar raat jaga tara

Amar Bhindeshi Tara
Akaa Rateri Akashe
Tumi Bajale Aktara
Amar Chilekotahr Pashe
Thik Shondhe Namar Mukhe
Tomar Naam Dhore Keu Daake
Mukh Lukiye Kaar Buke
Tomar Golpo Bolo Kaake
Amar Raat Jaga Tara
Tomar Onno Parae Bari
Amar Bhoy Pawa Chehara
Ami Adote Anari ||

Amar Akaash Dekha Ghuri
Kichu Mitthe Bahaduri
Amar Chokh Bedhe Dao Alo
Dao Shanto Shitol Pati
Tumi Mayer Moto Bhalo
Ami Aklati Poth Haati

Amar Bichiri Ak Tara
Tumi Nao Na Kotah Kaan E
Tomar Kisher Ato Tara
Rasta Paar Hobe Shabdhane
Tomar Gaye Lagena Dhulo
Amar Dumutho Chal Chulo
Rakho Shorir Haat E Jodi
Aar Jol Makho Dui Haat E
Pls Ghum Hoye Jao Chokhe
Amar Mon Kharaper Rat E

Amar Rat Jaga Tara
Amar Akash Choya Bari
Ami Paina Chute Tomay
Amar Akla Laage Bhari

then what??????????

a frnd wrote:

what has the world come to when people 'teach' you how to live abetter life...... 'i belong to you?' why must i belong to you? andeven if i do, thats only for me to know! why would i want you to knowwhether i belong to you or not? what if that makes you unhappy, andsubsequently me? an art gone waste, or is there another chance? if iwere to be happy, i neednt go about saying all good things to people,expecting them to be happy for that! no!

i replied:

i dont know....i myself am confused....y do i need to be so good all the time....y do i need to make people happy?? i do i act like lord krishna?? did lord krishna make everyone happy....he moved away from gokul which made numerous gopinis and radha cry for him....he killed kansha and made his wife mourn.....what social reform will i bring by telling people that i belong to them?? what if i catch hold of a man passing by stop him and tell him that i belong to him...next moment he might just try to follow me home, ask for my number, try to bother me and in the end turn out to be nothing but a road side romeo....then what??

I belong to you

Hello, I am Sumana and I belong to you. It’s not easy to hold someone’s hands and say this. “I belong to you? What crap!! I can’t say this to all, particularly to the person next to mee”, was my first reaction when I went to this art of living meditation camp. The man next to me smelled like a pig. I was reluctant to even look at him forget holding his hands and completely surrendering myself. Like mee many other also loathed doing so. Dinesh came forward and held my hands. He was smiling at me. I felt good. Everything good about Dinesh, his touch, his smile, his smell, his glance, the pony tail, which was hanging at his back, the spotless white kurta he was wearing… just everything. He looked deep into my eyes and said, “I belong to you. It’s very simple you see. All you need to do is smile and make yourself as well as your partner feel comfortable. Now do it.” The “do it” sounded more like I-am-asking-you-to-do-it-so-u-have-to. There was something in Dinesh that compelled me to listen to what he said. I turned back and unwillingly held the hands of the smelly man. He was smiling. After a few second’s thought I finally said those golden words and was happy to realize that it was over. Dinesh was standing behind me, still with that captivating smile. He held my hands again and said, “It’s easy only if you think”. Yes that’s so true. I joined the crowd holding each one’s hands I passed by and telling then with all my heart “yes I belong to you.”

Sunday August 3rd

I'll just share how my Sunday August 3rd went by:

1. I got up almost around 11 am feeling heavy at heart. Mom’s certainly not impressed.

2. Asmita called and asked if we could go out. I know she desperately wanted to. But when August 3rd is a Sunday, it's just a Sunday more than anything else…than August 3rd…than Friendship Day...Mom's in the house. Dad’s away…so I am expected to be home helping her or may be just giving her company…I hesitated and thought for sometime...then said later….

3. I got a few calls and loads of SMS’. Even my EF (Enemy Friend) wished me. I did not reply…but when she called I had to smile and act nice…

4. I wanted to speak to him…dialed his number twice…my heart became heavy again…before his cell rang I disconnected the line…this process continues for some time until I decided to give up…

5. Asmita called again…we bitched about friends and discussed how much we hated men who have cheated on us…(that’s the bitchy self of mine I love)

6. Even people whom I have long lost in touch with wished me. I can't believe few of the blokes still have my number saved.

7. Mom gets more pissed finding mee on phone since I woke up so she gives me some house-cleaning work to do (needless to mention, I promised her, I would, this Sunday.)

8. After lifting some awfully dusty suitcases and bags I get on to unpacking some cartons. Lots of cleaning takes place for the next 2 hours. I get hold of an old diary. Spend some time thinking about him. I try to SMS him, but finally delete the message after typing.

9. Tania calls. I just recall we decided to meet after 4 years. She kept complaining about not keeping in touch for all these years (have you forgotten sweetheart, you were the one who thought I was after your boyfriend? Naughty, now you accuse me!) We decide to meet in the evening.

10. Have my lunch. Mom’s a great cook. She made chicken, dal and bhaji for lunch.

11. I lie down on bed with “almost single”. I have been reading it almost 5 times now…have read almost 111 pages…this book almost gives me a high…I almost laugh, cry and live with the characters….

12. I fall asleep, when, I don’t know...a call from Tania wakes me…she confirms the time at 5 again.

13. I wake up after half an hour sharp and finally take a bath.

14. Mom’s ready to leave for Debjani Di’s house. I get ready to leave.

15. On my way I stop to buy friendship bands (don’t know why I act so stupid at times)

16. I miss him again...Pray to god to please make him call…curse myself for having no self esteem…

17. As usual Tania hasn’t reached yet. I call her. She comes in the next couple of minutes.

18. We head towards the swimming pool scoop. There is nothing to feel nostalgic. The place has entirely changed.

19. I order for food. Yummm…so what is he isn’t around…I must celebrate the 4th anniversary, I think…

20. We talk talk and talk…the bitching, gossips never empties the chatterbox…

21. Mom calls. I ask her to wait near the foot bridge. It’s my day to help her, I think. I will accompany her to the fish market….eks I just hate it…but I will pretend…like now I am pretending to be fine and happy…I am good at it…the practice made me perfect…

22. We buy vegetables, groceries and raw meat. Head towards home.

23. I switch on the TV and start surfing casually. “pehla nasha, pehla gumar”…that’s his favorite song…OMG I miss him again…and this time I cry… so I switch to some other channel…the stupid laughter show (I hate watching it) makes me laugh…

24. Mom comes in…she wants to watch some Bengali channel…I hand over the remote to her and head to the balcony with “Almost Single”…

25. The dinners ready…I dive into my plate, almost…I didn’t know I was that hungry…I love hogging…I love hogging more when am hungry…

26. It’s almost 10.30…I hit the bed with the remote…put the TV on sleep mode after half an hour…start surfing casually again….

27. Saionee calls…she sounds worried…we talk for a long time…I am becoming a “twitteroholic”.

28. Finally I go to sleep thinking bout him…

I wish I could remain awake for some more time...sit, think and write way past midnight…about survival, about pain, joy, friendship, love, hatred, about this world and its people…I wish I and insomnia were good friends…I wish I were a passionate writer...I can barely keep my eyes open now and I can barely think and write...Yet I am craving on the bounds of my sanity that time would come to a halt and stay still for a bit and thoughtful words would lend a hand to my lunacy during that eerie silence in reality…

I sometimes feel that I am breathing on borrowed time…Time that I need to plead, borrow and steal from someone else...I do not know how this happens...but it does…I have developed a sudden craving for noise...silence sounds deafening…Any noise…any kind of noise...it just has to be some sort of noise…not any sound…but noise…it’s more like a hopeless attempt to drown the silence I feel growing inside mee...I walk through busy streets, rambling my way through the world, earning a living and yet...nothing...Nothing registers…There is no sound, no color, no pain, no heat, no cold, no emotion, no land, no people…its only a survival on borrowed air…

Today, I stood alone watching the sun go down...i had done this earlier many times while getting back home from school…I had stood at the same place, where I was yesterday, to witness the most powerful getting engulfed by darkness…I have appreciated the orange hues turning purple…Mesmerizing…yes it still is...

I have yearned to lose myself in someone like the rivers that meet at the confluence…After a point one cannot tell which is which…

continued here....

Anek holo agoon niye khela!

Anek holo agoon niye khela!

Agoon tomay ki diechhe bolo?

Vesuvius jaagchhe dekho cheye,

Ebar tomar ason tolomolo.

Ajutborsho angarey angarey

Panjor ghirey jwolchhe lelihan-

Jwolchhe hridoy,jwoluk tobe aaj,

Dripto hoye jwoluk abhiman.

Taar cheye ei torol agoon naao

Ason theke ebar eso neme-

Agoon jwalo amaar dhomonite

Chinbo tomay preme,apreme.

back to childhood........

have you ever thought of reliving your childhood days?? have you ever thought of running down those waterlogged streets dirtying your shoes and clothes?? have you not missed fighting with a friend for a mere sticker that u managed to get for free with a bubble gum?? Have you not missed those days when u played pranks and got scolded??have you not missed sharing Tiffin with your close friends or sipping over a single bottle of coke??

Free periods in school… when I had endless chit chat with friends making loud noise until the teacher from some other class dropped in to give a good piece of thrashing…and then all us either stood on the bench holding ears or kneeled outside the class as a mark of punishment…lunch break and we are out in the play ground pushing each other in a football game…fighting over silly issues with friends that would hardly last an hour…

Little games at the park where we all would meet in the evening back from school…there I would be sitting on the park bench as I grew up from a kid into a lady…sit there with my close circle and talk about life…from non-stop running that would take my breath out it became long casual walks…

the last words....

hie,
I feel a lil strange to write to you...i dont know where do i start of, proceed and then conclude...my heart wants to pour out a lot...talk of my life, my dreams, aspirations, my sufferings, my anguish, my pain , my very being....thoughts, which have flown so easily out of my heart, today does not even find the right path to move....
i think no one on this earth has ever loved withouth getting hurt...it is a part and parcel of the relationship..i still cant believe that u have someone else in your life...someone who has become more dear to you than mee...i still dont believe that i am just a past for you now...
you are my lifeline even today...my world...my entire system...even today....i love you with all my heart...even today...when i cant touch you, hold you, kiss you, smell you, feel you, and perhaps love you...you have seized every right from mee....all i can do is sit here chained..and wish...wish i could change things they way they are...wish i cud be around to hold you in a stormy night...wish i cud be ur biggest support when u need...wish i cud make you smile even in the darkest hours of life...but i cant....my belief is shaken....i have no control over my life...not any longer i trust myself...
the day i fell in love with you i promised myself never to leave you alone... never leave you to the ravages of the world and never ever lonely...i shall weep your disappintments away and smile heartily at your rejoicing...everyday i wished to be by your side and make you feel that i care...
now i cant even see you or hear you...not even feel your presence...i cant tame my heart...it still loves you...it always will...i read somewhere "the most beautiful things in life are often the ones we cannot see...What makes the desert beautiful is the fact that it hides a well somewhere"...i do not want the world and its people to hurt you ever....mundane prosaicness are stored for myself...i trust you...i knw "my sri can never go wrong" (only if you allow mee to call you mine when am alone)... People haven’t learnt yet to rise above themselves...You certainly will...
I have knwn unbounded happiness when I have heard the thud of your heart....when i have sensed your breath..when i have felt your touch....I have throbbed with the pulse of life when you have lovingly looked into my eyes...I have survived days by the strength of the love we have borne each other and I have lived a life called “you”... you make such a difference to my life...with all your power...i smile when you smile...i cry when we dont speak...i live each day for you...and perhaps will sleep quietly now....
there is perhaps a small box in our head that holds all crapy memories...and it becomes alive when we are low...these memories, they make us feel as if everything has come to a halt...i have reached the edge of my life...if i stay i will die...if i jump i will die...i pray to the god of death to come by stealth and steal my breath away...it is such a moment when i like others have realized who matters, who never did, who wont anymore and who always will....and without whom i cant think...
I shall walk every step of your life with you even when my soul will rest in peace....my soul inseparably entwined with yours...
“My whole heart rises up to bless

Your name in pride and thankfulness!”