the evening touch
a winter evening..the sun had already set..and there lay no reddish tinge in the western sky..the grey veil of the evening slowly dropping in….somewhere nearby a song from a recent flim played on..the half done construction of a building nearby,stood alone….a white ambassador waited at the office door to carry the boss back to his family….far way,at the horizon,birds flew… I saw two minute feathers floating mid way in the air….. I smelt the burning coals,as the smoke curled up from a nearby hut,…..my fingers intertwined as I sighed silently….at the municipal corporation nearby,I heard someone bang the door shut….i saw officers and politicians dressed in white,leaving for their homes…
the room lights in all the neighbouring houses started coming into life…..to warm the approaching cold night……I piled up all the dried up clothes hanging in the verandah,………and walked back to my room…………
-swasTIKA
Passive
I pushed open my window and leaned out.. I rested my palms on the window sill and let my eyes graze in the field of nature… it was eight-thirty in the morning,and the sun hadn’t left its bed yet..i could smell my breath ,the freshly brushed teeth..my toothpaste..i smelt it all.. .. there at a small construction site near my house,the workers had already set to work.. a girl dressed in red skirt and white shirt cycled down the grey pitched road,off to school…. Somewhere near by a cycle rickshaw honked.. I saw a grand father,combed white hair,in grey pyjamas taking his grand daughter to school…down there,beside my apartment,there stood a girl,busy texting to someone..i could hear a conversation between the locals vegetable seller and a middle aged woman.. I could hear the baby in the neighbouring house,fumbling with his newly learnt words….
A crow flapped his wings and flew by..the banana tree near my apartment building had outgrown.. I noticed the leaves hung over on the other side of the wall..parts of it had dried up,and drooped down..the building overlooking my apartment was an old one..i saw peepal saplings growing from the cracks of the building…it looked old,weary..experienced and weathered….
Along the window railing,I noticed a dispatched cob-web..no spider lay there..may be it was a failed attempt by a spider,I thought.. the air smelt musty,like spinach leaves..i heard the clanging of utensils …. Slowly the sunlight started filtering in,and in gradual succession,I could hear the noise of daily life amplifying…honks of vehicles,calls of vegetable sellers,shops opening…..i did not want to hear it all over again……..so, I pulledthe curtain,sat down at my table and stuck a book at my nose………
….the day had had already begun……..
-swasTIKA
conflagration
I let the spray of cold water from the shower to relax my pounding head.. I sat down and held my head between my knees.. I felt weak.. nothing felt good__the shower flowed on,and there under the showeri poured mugfuls of water down my hair…lukewarm tears flowed down..and even under the shower..i felt their presence,their flow,their warmth…. I closed the tapsand brushed my drenched hair with the wooly towel…. In the crispy,warm clothes and wet hair,I stepped out of the cold bathroom…. I felt giddy and rushed over and bent over the kitchen sink__my stomach churned,but nothing exploded out of my mouth..__the smell of bile that rose from the burps made me dizzy………….
I closed my eyes..wishing to crush my eyeballs____and pressed my temples against the wall… I pressed hard until,beneath my skin,the blood capillaries had burst open…… I clutched my feet,desiring to bang them away___i felt miserable
My veins seemed to be drugged,as I dragged my loathing body __to the bedroom… I pulled aside my bed cover and layon the bare bed,…..yes,I’m depressed………..
And all this afternoon,I’ve done so….
-swasTIKA
Back yard
The smell of the heated concrete back yard..splattered with the scent of the setting coal dust..infused with the smell of the pink and yellow roses growing in the brown pots in the yard..the setting sun brushes aside the clouds,spreads its clothes and lays abck..to fall into a satisfying slumber…..
I keep playing with the mud and the balsam flowers..making a curry of water,soil,stone chips,fallen flowers and leaves,which in my belief,is a remedy for the weak plants.. oh, I’m only eight years old girl..the frills of my frock bordered by the muddy water,and lapped by the white and yellow sand particles….the herons line up to bid farewell and leave for their nests………..i’ve already lost my flouroscent green ball in the garden ..and I’m about to be charged by my mother,for spilling mud water at the door-way….
But now I’m eighteen..far away from where I was,when I was only eight…I want to smell that air once again…here,I’m breathless..nothing provokes me to breathe,and I tend to skip breaths once in a while..the sun here has already set,and the mourning sky smoothened with grey-tinged clouds,without even a glimpse og the blue sky……….it makes me gloomy all over again….
Yes,I miss my home…there..where I lived as a child….at my father’s place..in India..west bengal…raniganj..
I sigh deeper and deeper..
-swasTIKA
Cholo..dekha kori…
SUDHUI KI ALO DEBE
NA KICHU ONDHOKAR NEBE—
_
DUREI KI ROYE JABE
NA HAATHE HAATH PABE__
_
KE JANE E KOTHA
TOBE, DEKHA KORO OGOTTA__
_
KHELAI MOGNO ODRISHTO
BADHONE AMI AKRISHTO______
^^^
Onubhob er obhab
Debo ki jobab?
*
Ontor-nihito ortho
Dekha kora ki jothartho?
*
Toh asbe je kache
Tai bujhi spondon nache?
Odrishho rohoshho
Shobdo sohoshro..
*
Sudhui ki kothar khela
na ki asbe o bela
*
Paat-er dhare ektu nun
Jolche ondhokarer unun
*
Ache koto pichutan
Koro a oto onuman..
*
Bolo ki thik korle
Na aro pichu shorle..
*
Ascho tahole aj
Porone khushir taj..
*
Ta hole,besh..
Ei amader kotha sesh..
-swasTIKA
Breath
The night air stuck to my body,as I leaned against the verandah railing…my eyes spotted some dragon-flies in the light coming off the gleaming street light….the pale golden yellow light emitted by the street lights illuminated the dark lanes….my shoulder strained….I busied myself in unknotting my muscles…pressed the shoulder blades and twisted my head sideways..pressing relief on my body…I looked up at the sky,while my hand glided down and searched for the verandah railing to hold on to…I breathed harder as the crescent moon looked down upon me….my thoughts wandered..and I wondered about the poets who get inspired by the faint white light of the crescent moon….the satellite of Mother Earth……
No,the white light did not catch my attention..what was held in my web—was that half of the moon,which was lost in the darkness of itself…I drew the distinctly faint outline of the other half of the crescent moon…didn’t it desire to charm the world..or sing a lullaby to the motherless child…. Did it feel deprived..sure,it did… what pleasure and celebration must it for the other half on the full moon night….i was lost in these revolving thoughts when I heard my mother in the kitchen……..
-swasTIKA
The girl who left her heart in her soul…kichu kotha bhule jao na
-
Surjo je dhole na
Murkho ke bolo na,
Bolo na e kotha
Buke j boro batha.
Bolte j bolo tare
Bujhbe kj bolo kare.
Rojoni j odhare surjo k ghum paray
Amaro edhare ghum harai.
Shondhe name,adhar chore
Raatero adhere chuyechi tomare.
Gogone fuler tara fute othe
Jhore jhore papri pore mukut e.
Duti noyon e prodip jele othe
Dui haath bhije jai paprir borshon e.
Chutia chutia bayu kotha hote ashe
Janina j se kare go bhalobashe…….
-
Bhalobashar domon hoilo opare
Rokto chitke elo epare.
-
Drops of words that come pouring down
Pages of tears flying all around.
Pockets of emotions walking down the streets
Fruits of love hanging from the trees.
Flowers of smiles stacked into the vase
Sad emotions bordering the lace of my dress.
I stopped crying,yet tripping all day
Hold me in thy arms,gripping all night.
Learning to dance,to dance to my song
Giving new tunes to your all dedicated wrongs.
Sing a lullaby to put me to sleep,
Don’t drag me all along,my dreams might rip.
-
Surjo j neme geche
Buke betha jege geche.
E prithibite keho bujhbena
Ami tomake harabona.
Raat chuye eseche tomay
Ghum hariye feleche amai.
Jibon er shondha-raate e ki lukochuri.
Bhalobashar mukut gole gelo krondon er shrote
Jani tomar rokte uthle poreche bhalobashar abege.
Bhalobasha-taar jonno bhalobasha.
-
-swasTIKA
^
So many creative writing competitions are held in my school..every year…interchool..intraschool..etc…
I write so much daily…but never have I ever won any such competition.. Actually,the whole idea or concept of writing----TO COMPETE—never does fascinate me….
*
Rather,it sorta sound weird…the whole arrangement of it..writing is one’s passion..it is not to be displayed to impress others..it is to satisfy oneself..to quench one’s own thirst.___It is simply so weird---there is a specific topic given,specific time..and what more…..a WORD LIMIT!!!
…its jus so funny!
.
I did once attend such a competition(actually I didn’t out of my own desire..i was forced into an invitation by my English teacher)…you know,what I did there?...In the beginningi tried to jot down something,___then I spent quite some time—observing others—someone bent over her paper..someone scribbling…someone trying hard to extract something worthwhile___i gazed on__and then__after a while,I pushed back my chair,and submitted my almost blank paper and walked off___
MOREOVER,creativity CANNOT BE JUDGED .._because the creator alone knows the creation implicitly_ _ _and the judge or the observer might not have(generally doesnot have) the perception of the creator,to judge the creation,…..and this is my opinion..
-
p.s. opinions vary from one person to the other..
-
and so,when you read/see a creation by someone else,you only have the right and the ability to express what it makes you feel,but never…good or bad…….. :)
^_^
-swasTIKA
Straight from my den……….. ..
Theres something weird I did this Sunday..i put out my chocolate bar out in the schorching sun..for the choco to melt..oh..believe me..it actually tasted wonderful,when I let it into my mouth..liked baked or roasted wafer dipped into a bowl of hot chocolate…..
You can try it too :) ….and here I’m waiting for the next Sunday to come,and I can try something more weird ;) …by the way..i guess,my mom’s already left home,to get my name registered in the asylum :)
Impress or suppress?
Neither to impress..nor to suppress…
There is no right or wrong..thats my opinion though..right or wrong is something,that we create…..its just a choice of the mind….a state of the mind…because in every right there is a wrong..and in every wrong,there is a right…..its is just something one chooses to believe in..and choices do vary :0 ..there is nothing wrong about being right..and right about being wrong….and of course..vice versa……….it is the balance between the two,that keeps the world stabilized….
Yup..i’m a nihilist..a non-believer of **right and wrong**
{I know..even to this,someone will say, ”no this is wrong..”…or ‘yes..thats right..”…………but I’ll say,”it is jus how I suppose it to be__again,I my thinking..there is neither right..nor wrong”}
-swasTIKA
Ontoheen…the endless wait….
The wish that harbours my soul..
I wish..i wish I were born in a wealthy family..with no compulsions as to get an early job,to finance the family…I wish I were not bound to some rules…some necessities of this family…wishing..to be allowed to do what I want to do….
And what is it that I want…?
You wanna know…
…I don’t like to and want to compete..i don’t want to be a part of the wild-goose chase in this world…I don’t want to run..i want to wander..i want to lay back,and learn…….that is what I want..learn……know…see..
I would’t mind being enveloped by the fineness of art—of knowing—of understanding—the intrinsic charm of poetry,of the distinct crystallized soul—the earth__ like touching everything, I can smell………learning to speak___culturing the soul—slowly-----naturally____something that is endless…………that is what I want__wanted to happen to me……
….like being allowed to breathe in deep__being allowed to observe__to be silent__to get down on the earth__see the world…exploring the depths of Divinity,the beauty of it…..
Words can’t set down the intensity of my desire---___i alone can feel the mist of it around me,the warmth if it,which swells up my heart….like sinking deep into the Divine___i want that..but its all..just a distant star in my night sky_----something that I can only desire to have___but never have…
-swasTIKA
I dedicate this post to my friend,aamen…who introduced me to blogging….sure enough,she was only advertising for her own blog..but still,I can’t help but thank her.. :)
As the no of school days are gradually dwindling,I use one of my posts to thank her..without whom….jus like my previous poems,the poems in my blog too,would have been lost….blogging is my way of preserving my poems..previosly I have lost around 45 of my poems,when I knew not blogging…so thanks to blogging…n Aamen(a blogger n a school-friend)..
So,heres to her…a gift :) ; )
Counting the no. of songs you have memorized
Counting the no. of times we have hi-fived…
>
Counting the no. of bridal dresses short-listed
Counting the no. of ways you’re god-gifted….
>
Counting the no. of days I’ve known you well
Counting the no. of times,a lizard makes you yell
>
Counting the no. of times,your spit-balls attack me
Counting the no. of you pestered me for “bumble-bee”
>
Counting my brother as your possible life-partner
Counting the no. of times,you speak of Taylor Lautner
>
Counting the no. of school-days left….
Here I wonder,how many times,has Aamen wept?
>>>>
Count..count…count…..countless,
By the way,whatz the last count of “randomness”!?
::::::::::: :::::::::::: :::::::::::: :::::::::::
“”madness in school”” soon to be a closed chapter
How will I do without you,here after!?
-swasTIKA
Megher guro..cloud dust
Haath duti pete dao..mor jibon niye nao
Ki koribo mor e jibon niye?
Harano sei sur-e taal ki debe tumi-----
Debe na toh,batash ke boite diyo na tumi,
Ki jani-----------chokher jol hariyejai jodi___
*
((Haste toh dao tumi,kajol makha noyon ke
Kadte pare na jokhon ranga duti thot)) (2)
*
Shithai kobhu hosto pore na tomar
Pran chahe tobu oshru gore na amar
Goriye dao tumi ei koti din k
Prithibir opare na hole,dekha hoibe ki kore___
*
((Shondher akashe,chokh dube batashe
Megh ghono ghono hoi,bhoi hoi brishti hoi
Angon bhije jabe amar,tomai porbe mone abar)) (2)
*
Chaichi na toh,chaichi na toh,
Mone korte oi koti din k..
Ure beriye,ghure tomar ochoitonno hridoye..
*
Akashe gorjon,buke borshon__
__kotha koite esechile tumi,
Aj keno asho na,mon k keno hashao na..
Oshru je hashte chai amar___
*
Dukhho kono neiko amar,
Dukhho keno hoibe abar..
Bhalo jokhon besechi tomai..
Aponar-e bhalobashai,aponar-e hridoy gelo bhore
Bagan-er joto shada papri,shob-e gelo jhore….
*
Baire brishti ami shunbo,
Na tomai oshru-brishti sonabo…
Ki koribo,bhebe pailam kotha…___
-swasTIKA
Bhashoman…..floating
Ami aj esechi
Tomake golpo shonate..
Shono go tumi amar golpo
Hobe mone betha olpo-sholpo..
Cholbe onek amar raj-kahini
Pothe pabe onek sukher bahini..
Legeche tomar hather kone,ektu kali
Chelebelai dhuye diyechilam hantur bali..
Chotobela theke tumi hoyecho onek boro
Ajke amar kothar majhe,kothai choro..
Haath-ti dhore,cholo shonge
Par kore jabo tomar bongo-te..
Dakche akash
Dakche batash
Aj hobena keu hotash..
Metechi hridoye
Mridu hawai..
Shondhhe-bela,amae notun sokha
Jaglo mone ojosro pakha..
Hariye jabar din
Ami bhangbo shokol rin..
Ajke amar cholar pothe
Chorbo amar ronger rothe..
Dhoya-ai ami mishe jabo
Onge tomar roye jabo..
Dakche akash
Dakche batash
Aj hobena keu hotash..
Bajche bashi
Haschi hashi..
Bajche amar haather taali
Nei go amar,hridoy khali..
Shobdo-choyon-e kothar khela
Chotur-dike mor kotha mela..
Oije moyur kore nacha-nachi
Shokol dukhhe ami shonge achi..
Notun diner,notun barta
Cholche amar jibon jatra..
Kotha kothai sesh holo?
Tumi je ghumiye porle go..
Amar golpo shone ke
Ajkeo tumi na shune
Ghumiye porle toh go…………
