Saturday, August 28, 2010

Crumpled words of mind



Life is treacherous, like the moon’s spell

Cause we have to live and die another day…

Love is a metaphor, a red bird without mercy

It chases you to take the causeway to death

Don’t dream in a borrowed room wasting your breath

Life is longer than love, hold hands and stay…

Stay like the smiles in the photographs you took

Or the wonderful lines in that old book

Paint a pebble in your morning blues

No more conspiracy of spite, spineless filthy wishes

Stumble upon a doormat and dream of gumball rain….











Something I clicked and edited :)






[Click for full view plz]

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Die with me tonight

The whine of sorry rainbows
All around to grab us tight
Are you afraid of sorrow?
Living is dangerous darling,
Die with me tonight.

The toxin of mind that’s weak
Spineless thoughts of nothingness
Are you afraid of silence?
Loneliness is dangerous darling,
Die with me tonight.

The darkest fear of losing it all
When everything ends in a stroke of time,
Are you afraid of death?
Living is dangerous darling,
Die with me tonight.







yes. another bad attempt at poetry. pardon me. -_-







written for Sunday Scribblings: http://sundayscribblings.blogspot.com/

Friday, August 20, 2010

One More Time


Let’s just one more time
Hold hands and stand
On that foggy mountain crest.
Let’s just take one more look at this world,
Out of our so called circus of life.
One more time, leave the car behind
And walk on this empty road
With me, looking at the stars.
For just one more time,
Stand under the pouring rain
Feeling the cold under your skin,
Listening to that song
We used to sing along.
For just the last time’s sake,
Laugh with me your heart open,
Cry with me your heart broken, tonight.
For the memories of us together,
For the love that lies dead under –
Let’s pretend, let’s pretend we’re alright…
And just when I fall asleep –
Silently, kiss me the last goodnight.

Monday, August 16, 2010

Make a cup of tea. blah.

You wake up in a bad morning wishing you should have died last night, and you make a cup of tea.
You feel miserable about being miserable all along, and you make a cup of tea.
Your parents forbid you from everything you want and deserve, such as internet, guitar, hang outs, meeting your best friend, and you make a cup of tea.
The world spins fast intentionally to make you throw up, and you make a cup of tea.
Wow.
I feel so miserable. I feel like I’m doomed to be destroyed. Something is wrong…it’s like something has died in me. Or is it me? Chasing my own soul? Am I paranoid or what? Oh god..! I guess soon I will be joining the world of official insanity.
Wait… I need a cigarette… eek parents are home. Fuck.
*pardons my own stupidity*
Other than that, can you believe I cried the whole noon because I had read a sad  novel over again which I had had seen as movie long before! Damn, I’m so screwed. Oh, now I should make a cup of tea for myself. It feels good anyhow.
You screw up your life and walk on the way of psychosis; and you make a cup of tea.
However thank you Cecelia Ahern. <_<

P.S.~ I miss my mp3 player. it's dead *Sheds Tears*
:(

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Through The Eye of The Storm


I stood in the eye of the storm,
The wrath of the world crawling around;
Flock of dust blinded my soul…
A soul doomed to core of soreness,
A life that has nowhere to go…
The thunders bounded me,
They flashed, they growled
Like dragons from the faraway dark world.
But blind were my eyes like my existence,
Too numb a body to hear anything…
The time passed by as I stood
Right in the middle of my ruins.
Moments paused as earth moved no more
The breaths stood still everywhere
It was time the demons came out
The demons of you and me
We locked them deep down inside
But the fate had chosen them to come out
Because the love lived no more,
The pain had died away somewhere
Only silence remained, the silence of life
And we couldn’t bear it anymore…
It all came down, no verve stayed there;
The end to all our furies and odium…
Empty city streets resided alone
Waiting for footsteps in sun and rain…
The world spanned again in circle of eras;
I stayed as the watcher had to stay
To tell the story of all the times –
In the eye of the storm, alone and strong.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

A tribute to Jyoti Basu



It is cold day today. I was really cold when I stepped out of my bed. But I didn’t know that this day would bring such a pain to heart.
I was on the phone chattering with my friends and mom was watching the news. It was about 12 pm. suddenly mom came to me with blank eyes and told “Jyoti Basu is no more…”
I turned my eyes to the TV screen and the headlines were enough shocking for me.
My friend asked from the other side “What happened?”
“Jyoti Babu has died…just now”
“Are you kidding? He he…”
“Watch the news idiot”
“What the hell. Wait, I’ll call ya later”
She cut the phone.
I and mom stayed stick to the TV, half-sad, half-feelingless.

That time I finally came to know how I much I idealized this political legend of India and West Bengal.
I have never said anything about politics before as I always kept it apart from my personal life. But it was never apart actually. My whole room is full of posters of Che Guevara along with my favorite bands.
I was born in a political family. Every person in my family is attached with politics. We are communists. And thus I never learned to avoid or hate politics. I learned that it runs a country, it produces the freedom movement. No man can be non-political in a free democratic country. We all are part of it. Some avoids, some takes part and some leads.
Never blame a politician. Blame yourself and fellow people. Because you the people has chosen him to run the country. It is easy to say politics is dirt, but it is hard to come forward and clean it. Yes, remember ‘Rang De Basanti’.

Communist leader Jyoti Basu in a jubilious mood after winning by-election from Baranagar, West Bengal on February 11, 1969.
Apart from my speeches, lets come to the point.

Jyoti Basu was a political legend. He was the leader of the communist movement after freedom of India. Jyoti Basu was the son of a wealthy doctor. He went to London to study law. He was motivated there by his professor and writer Rajani Pam Dutta.
When he came back in India, freedom movement was on. He left his bright career of barrister and entered the movement. He was in Marxist party even when it was banned in India. He was the first chief minister of WB after the end of Congress era here. Jyoti Basu was the only one Bengali politician who was to be the prime minister of India, Congress supported him, but he backed off as his party opposed the decision of him becoming the PM. He was elected the CM of West Bengal over 5 times. He never worshipped the power and the thorn. This man was always the people’s man.
Jyoti Basu was the first person to introduce land revision and give lands to farmers and he also started non-paying governmental schooling system. He always told that politics was above the barriers of religions. He was a true communist who believed in Humanism. He served the society for his whole lifetime and even after death, his eyes and body were donated. He gave his everything for the sake of the society. Every leader of every political party respected him and took advice from him whenever needed.
But his personal life was pretty much sad. His first wife died. They had no children. He married again after 6 yrs and had a daughter. She died soon in few days because of illness. Then he had a son who later in life, didn’t share hearty relationship with him.
He was never a victim of any scandal or something bad. He fought for the last day of his life. He was told to be the leader of working class people. The people of west Bengal are greatly moved because of such a loss of this country. May his soul rest in peace.

And, if you don’t know about this person, or just feel a little bit of respect for him, just take a look at the news tonight. He was a man of morals. He met Nelson Mandela, Fiedel Castro etc. He had great communication with Indira Gandhi and Rajiv Gandhi. He was someone who brought Amitav Bacchan to Kolkata to see him in the Hosp.

Thank you for reading.



With Castro. ^