The Monk

The rebel lived dammed..
along the sides of the dockyard and shipcutters allies.
he mourned his awakening into life and the knowledge..
he mourned the knowledge the most.
his senses were painful..
chop chop chop
each vessel of the blue waters
ripped up in timbers..
split up to the keel...
her gut wide open..
he sensed the treasures..
his god dammed senses..
he trode along the pink moonlight..
along the dieing backwaters..
rotting storehouses..
into the beauticians shop..
he sensed bad perfume..
The rebel hated the knowledge of things..
things that were his .. and things that were not anybody's
his breath talked to the splinters of the ships body
smoothened them.. filed their rough edges..
yet he lived a dammed life..
he knew about most things now..
and he knew about all things after...
he knew the old waterways of affluence..
he knew the sky roads of beyond...
His eyes were imprints of everything his mind has seen..
His eyes were dammed..
He lived along the old river..
and he lived to know more and suffer..
The rebel was thus dammed..
The rebel..
don't ask.. don't ever ask him anything..
Jan 2006

I think I wrote it when I was trying to get over my bastard. And I used to hang out a lot with Ram. And he inspired a story in me. This is a prelude for the story that later became the treatment for the movie I'm yet to make.. Working title - " The Monk" .

Just about nowhere is left to the path to his house..
and carnations don't do any justice to it..
as always there are doubts to his love for yellow and red flowers..
and the rain has ceased to excite us..
its late afternoon and its cold out there..
the road to the lake is all dry grass..
and the city seems to just wake up now...
just about nowhere is where I'm standing...
Its still cold out here...

December 20th, 2005

Written for a friend.. who I had started to love at that time. And he's never read this.. My bastard.

Khandala !!

borsha megh kuasha ghera upottaka
sobuj, aar sobujer jato rokompher hoy.........
khin pahari nodi jharna hoe name..
bheja..bheja.........bhison bheja mon.
abcha poth..,akash pother dhare...
esob deshe rongila phul manay na...
brishticlanto ghashe, mathar pashe....
achena ghashphul.
anek pahar...ilsheguri brishti chador jorano......
jongule gach... jongla nibir mon...

july 2003

After my 1st trip to Khandala.. with Dad... Drove there.. Loved it..

Random..

baki kaaj ,one fine day eshe dhakka debe mathay.......
totdin nahoy aei tuku niye baysto achi..
taai thaklei ba kon boshonter asha atkabe bolo..
in fact , kaak'o dakbe roj shokalbela...
achha kaak bolte mone porlo..
obarite aajke khub ekposhla brishti hoyeche..
kintu.....
duto kaak chara keu bhijte beroyni...
ki dukhher kotha bolo dekhi....

August 09, 2004

No idea.. I have no idea why I wrote this. Here is another I wrote on the same day.. It was a very strange day I guess..

onek shopno dekhi...
dine..bikele...shokalbela...
kintu raat'ta bhebe katiye di...
koekta holud baganbilash...
e naame ekta eto sorol ful'ke dakata churanto aatlami
jai hok
holud aar golapi
aar amar mathar bhetor..
prithibi-brismrito hoyeche,
emon ekta shomoyer rajnoitik,orthonoitik o neo-dhormio kichu
jilipi aar sutli-jot..
amar onek chinta bere gelo..
mohin bolechilo....
ekta gaane..
runway jure pore ache sudhu shunnota....
achha mohin ki eboi porechilo....
charon jodi shotti dekhe thake shunno shobhhotar uddyan...
charon ki bhashay gaito shediner pothe... emon chobite kishori manay bhalo.
kishori ki shotti shedin, kichu sukh kichu dukhhe chul elomelo korechilo....
amar chinta onek bere gelo
akasher jokhon gham diye jor naame...
shedin keu chilo taake jol mishti debar jonno...
achha ekdin she bhoy'o pete pare akash'ke..
khola math'ke bhoy....dhu dhu prantorke
charon bhebeche onek kichhu shedin....
amay tar kichu chinta diye gelo...
amar chinta bere gelo.

August 09, 2004

Inspired by Shongbighno Pakhikul - Mohiner Ghoraguli.. and Issac Asimov's Foundation series . Random mix? I know..

He Slept..

I looked at his face.. while he slept..
tensed angles of his jaws were relaxed for a change..
his lips pouted a little.. just a little..
and trembled now and then...
his hair had fallen off their neat set up..
and a few brushed the middle of his brows..
his eyebrows twitched in his sleep..
just a few times..
but he looked peaceful for a change..
a little cold wind brushed his nose..
and he curled up tighter against the seat..
pulling his coat in.. searching for warmth..
My dear Lord... was this a test..?
how I had stopped myself.. only I knew..
I traced his temples..the small lines on his brow..
his closed eyelids.. his lashes..
his cold nose..
and his little gasps of warm breath escaping them...
his little pout.. the tiny dip in his chin..
nuzzled his neck.. with my eyes..
I dared not touch him..
for he would wake up..
and torture me with his cold silence..
he was quite in his sleep..
but he was not silent..
his breath kept me company..
I could gaze and gaze and he'd never know..
I could imagine his dreams for him..
and search for meanings of his lips trembling..
he'd never know..
I could breathe in his musk..
inhale as much as I want...
and he'd never know...
So I dared not touch him..
I dared not break his sweet rest...
I adored him in secret..
and in secret shall it stay..

1/2/2006 Bombay.

Written on a New Years Day!! I was entangled in an intense infatuation towards my then best buddy. I honestly don't know how he felt. He later said that he was babysitting me. I call him my Bastard.

All that is real. That really happened. In a three wheeler. On the way to a New Years Bash that went very bad later. Due to bad alcohol , bad music, and jealousy.

My oldest poem..

tumi chokh tule takiechile
pratham aaguner opar hote,
bohukaal aager eek akasher tolay,
dekhechile, pratham amake........
amar pratham manabi sarir...
tarpor, futie tulechile pathure deyale...
chaya chaya eek, manush meye ke
aar futiechile....prathambar...ajana akankha.......
pray nirbodh moner eek... nirjan prante//

tarpor kono eek khorosrotar tire....
beej bunchile tumi...
chokh tule takiechile........
prathambarer ekrash sonali dhaner pechon theke,
dekhechile amay,
saddasnata ami,prathamdiner matir kalashe.....
jaal tulchilam
aar holona tomar beej bona....
naram urbar mati ,
ektal tule nie,
shrishti korechile......
ashpashta amar akriti
aar shrishti korechile jhar....
jaa sedin seei nadir opor boechilo

bideshe apahritaek kritadashi.............
ami sura patra haate...
eshe dariechi ek notun raajdarbare
tumi takiechile
prathamkaaler akshare lekha,
ek rol papyrus er opor die...............
rajprashasti lekhar kotha,
bhule likhe felle...
ek sundarir bhalobasar .......
pratham kabbya kahini
aar lekha hoe gelo ....
sura bahikar mone ....
eek asambhaber nesha.........

ashtra garar pathare
manush meye enkechile
jate beej bunte hobe
manabi murti gorechile
raajprashati lekha bhule
kabbya kahini likhechile

aajke philosophy lecturer sesh benche boshe...
noter khatay amar sketch koro...
hoyto kobitao lekho
sei chokh tule dekho amay...
kather bencher opash theke...
pratham aaguner pare
korechile jor kore adhikar
srotoshwinir tire jharer rater ....
pratham abhishar
bideshinir moner kheya
payni kono paar.
tobe aajke keno samne eshe bolte paro na.....

"tomay chini.....
tumi amar..
anek diner chena..."

18/july/200? (2? 1?) (kolkata)
( has been revised every time it has been read:P)

This is the oldest writing I consider Poetry.. I was barely 15 when I wrote this.. the ones older than this were just games in rhythm.. and simple songs.. I chucked rhyme for the 1st time with this one.. I can still rhyme well.. But I don’t do it if it doesn’t come naturally to the poem..

And I wrote it for Irrfan.. and he never came.. I'm gald..

I'm back.. to finish what I started..

My one beloved told me a long time ago that she collected the pages I tore off and threw away..
I asked why would she collect my rejected lines.. She said that one day I might not write anymore.. and these will be of immense value..

This a an attempt to collect all my poetry. Most are in my hard drive and some are in old notebooks.. Most are very personal.. and all have appeared somewhere else before..

I'll try to add a history and geography of each poem.. if I remember why, where and when I wrote them.. I don't remember much.. So this is an attempt to write them down before I forget the little I recollect. .

here's one..

ami anek durer theke tomay nisthobdo pakhimone dekhechi.
borshaklanto nihshaschara matir moton.
je nihshaase mishe thake...
ghasful,pipre,aar foringer nishchupkotha.
borshaklanti asheneme ashe tomar sorire.
17 august 2003

and another on the same lines..

prati raat naksatrer,prati raat kobitar hobe...
besh koekbar kanna,besh koek bar shirsha sukh/
ek fota nistabdata tomake chenabe.....tomar mukh.
tumi ek fota surela ratrir moton/
megh pahar, megh, megher sabda akashe/
serokom aalo aar gaan/
gaan othe anek gabhire,anek gabhire magnatay nirlipta she gaan.

August 2003

Now.. these were written for a asshole I have worked hard to forget. But they're poems never the less.. I wrote at lightning speed at that time.. mostly extempore.. over IM Chat.. and I dont like them too much now..

these are my most often repeated lines when I used to write poetry.. they are some what random.. I never could fit them into any poem in particular.. they were just stand alone lines.. didn't mean to mean anything.. just a feeling.. just a summary of my 1st secret rendezvous with him..

Boshonte hotat brishti
bheja krishnochura..
amra shedin
lal polash'er para
ghurte gechilam..

Wrote this a year ago..

Shedin nihhsheshe bhalobeshechi
Shedin, kalke ki hobe bhabini...
Shedin shojore thot'e thot boshiyechi tomar
Shedin bishwas korechi, daakle brishti ashbe
Shedin tomar obodhho kothagulo kaane mishti legeche..
Shedin shorir mon tuchho korar shahosh chilo..
Shedin.. bhashte chaini.. dubte raji chilam..
Shedin aar shobkichuke kachkola dekhiyechi
Shedin khide payni.. ghum bhulechilam..
Shedin bhije bhije kaday nechechi..
Shedin tomay bhalobeshechi.
Sheishob borshagulo... aei koekdin aager kotha..

00.00 pm
1/1/2005

Wrote this last year

Shei shob borshagulo
jar ashay kete geche onek kalo akash,
kalo akash sudhu..

aajke onekdin por..
brishti elo..
tobu sheishob borshagulo onnorokom chilo..
pen'er kali, khatar pata..
shob'ee shesher dike..
kintu aei sheshei hotat lekhar khub tara..

brishti porche krishnokanto
onek kichui dhuye muche jachhe
aar kota din opekhha koro..
plabon elo bole..

11.55 pm
31/12/2004

egaro tarikh june mashe..
brishti ashe...
brishti ashe...
aaj rastay, elo melo hote hote
choshmay jol elo
kancher opare... aar epareo...
chite fota kada..
ektu gaan...
aar bhir lal bus'ta ke "kaatle" bole
bhije bhije hata..
aajke chowpatti'te keu nei..
boddo beshi dheu..aar haoya
bali ure choshmay, ..jhapsha..
ekta neel plastik, ekta mora aar koekta saucepan..
chup chap bhije jachhe.....plastic ta urche bhuture..
ekta cutting hole besh....dhut! chawala gulo'o paliyeche..
amar already teenbar haancha hoye geche.
banglay gal dilam ekta auto'ke...
tobe chetano kada'ta besh laglo...rang de...
office'e jete hobe...hanchi pachhe....na geleo hoy..
boddo lazy'mi te peyeche amay...
logic, economics emonki history class'tao aajke bunk.
faki dichhi aajke shobkichu..
ashole, onekdin por kanna pelo...

kono gohon raate
ekla boshe
bhebechi ghorchara hobo
palie jabo
gaan sonabo
duniyake
kono gohon raate

bijon belay
keu dekeche
barer taane
keu teneche
ami chokh buje kaan bujechi haay
sunini taar mohon bashi
amay bijon belay
keu dekeche
mohon bashi mohon bashi

ami ekla achi
tarar raate
amar gaan bandha gaan saadha phuroy
keu sone na
prohor kaate
bendhechi gaan jar surete
she palie geche surti nie
taar bashite taar bashite

ami ghor palabo
ekla hobo
tobe jodi dai she dhora
jaar pothete poth harabo
tar pother hodish srishti chara

ami chole jabo
sokol chere
tar piche piche
ekla pothe
she dakbe amay
abar kono
gohon raate
bijon belay

all the angst that can come out of a guitar.
where else can love be so bold than in a song.
rough old voice of trees in their broodings.
its just nowhere else but here that songs grow wild.
and musings of old drums and lullabies.
its a strong melody by the fire,
one made of love.
and where love so bold but in a wild old song.

Was it some time ago?or long?

under the same sky..

in that very field of autum straws and grass..

the nightbirds hunt..haunt..and linger

under the same sky..

and starlight

the galaxy revealed..

a " highway full of diamonds" Bob Dylan wrote

he didn't mean the galaxy's arm as seen from the earth..

but it looked like a highway full of diamonds to me...

that night,

or was it much further in the past?

i dont remember soaking starlight with you before...

not till today.

but under the same skynot long ago,

or a thousand years from now...

or,

some where in the fields of Sumer,

ive met you..

under the same sky..