The Game

Empty roads and a lonely corridor
A weary seagull that flies no more
Gloomy afternoon by the river side
The clouds, where the moon tries to hide

Things will not be the same
 And I was lurking around in shame
This world we cannot tame
Cause we all are a part of the game

 Running down where the rivers echoed
The trail of tears that was often savoured
The crumbling sound of broken delusion
Rants of a vicious mind with a rabid vision

Things will not be the same
 And I was lurking around in shame
This world we cannot tame
Cause we all are a part of the game


A trembling sense of menace
Chasing shadows of sun rays
Faded colour of a spurned leaf
Whiffs of smoke at the shunned cliff

Things will not be the same
 And I was lurking around in shame
This world we cannot tame
Cause we all are a part of the game

Musings of a Self-Proclaimed Impostor

My mind is like a forsaken, dark empty vessel
often sets off in cruelty and trepidation
you call it severe dementia
you apprise me of all my misdemeanour
the stain in the bed sheet reminds you of all the lives that I have murdered

My body is like a swamp which you tried to thoroughly drain
It's an impassable venture for any previous conviction
It's a weird concoction of monsoon clouds under a bright autumn sky
sometimes it's that minute patch of brown soil in a large green field

My soul is like the stool I am trying to release for the past couple of hours
It's a poignant reminder of self-consciousness
a disarranged cluster of deceased minds
a strange force leading to unsolicited convolutions
or an abandoned silence trying to make love to emptiness

But you were smitten by this unsightly wanderer
Taken aback by my timely  crafty smile
along with quintessential articulation
failed to keep a track of my clandestine footsteps
As I refused to remove my hallucinatory mask

I've Heard the Silence Cry

A yellowed sheet and a fountain pen
The chugging sound of an empty train
Staring out at the winter rain
The sombre sky is in a lot of pain

You're a troubling sun that makes me squint
also a border river where I'd live in a tent
And I'm alone but I can't deny
I have heard the silence cry

You're an autumn's lovely breeze
you're the fire that refuses to cease
you're clad in a tattered gown
and you gaze at me with an eerie frown

You're a troubling sun that makes me squint
also a border river where I'd live in a tent
And I'm alone but I can't deny
I have heard the silence cry

What happens to our poems when we die?

They become a carcass for the ravens to feed on
or a long forgotten loner on the streets of kolkata
may be an origami at the corner of the table that was often ignored
a smile at the corner of a poor man's lips that's often overlooked

the verses take a walk down the memory lane
to the time when they were born
When the sheet smelt of fresh ink
murmured the chorus in symphony

some of them were born from a deceased mind
some were the flowers over a worn out soil
quite a few were a young child's dreams
the ones that were always undercover were about his ladylove

the wind and dust caressed the mind and soul
rustled like a juvenile's swaying skirt
but it did not want to be ridiculed and torn apart
but it was soon yanked into the void

Do they squabble over their master's loss?
do they cry silently and read themselves out as loudly as they can?
or are they happy to be lost travellers like unfettered holy spirits in the hills
What happens to our poems when we die?

That night when the sky was red

Like a river flowing another way
you were walking against the wind the other day
listening to the sound of rain
hoping it would wash away all the pain

Now you've been too far away for too long
Hope someday you listen to this song
and always remember what I said
that night when the sky was red

You're just a miracle the world has seen
through the eyes of an ordinary man
Waiting for the sun but the night is long
Hoping it would go away very soon

Now you've been too far away for too long
Hope someday you listen to this song
and always remember what I said
that night when the sky was red

Now you want me to say it once again
but this is going to drive me insane
I'm already a wounded man with half eaten nails
who wants to see the light like everyone else

Now you've been too far away for too long
Hope someday you listen to this song
and always remember what I said
that night when the sky was red

The sky is crying

There is always something very special when the sky cries. Probably the only cry that puts a smile on quite a number of lips. After a gloomy afternoon and a humdrum routine work at office, it always feels great to stare at the sky that is crying but only a little. The red sky with an occasional lightning is an imposter. It has got all the sparkling diamonds in the form of stars. It hides them beneath the clouds and acts as a lonely country boy shedding a tear or two with his guitar sitting in a large field with one or two trees as the only audience. The silent drops of rain over the cheeks take me down the memory lane when I used to enjoy the season's first and the last rain as if they were a blessing in disguise. The sky despises people for not accepting its tears. There is a message in every drop of rain.

Postcards

The mind plays a radical attempt of retribution
Without legitimizing a sense of contentment
Like a bird's nest on a tree during summer
And the leaves falling off like human hair during autumn
letting them fly to an unforeseeable sky above

When you close your eyes and enter an esoteric dream
where the vision becomes hazy and death is no more feared
And the clouds kiss the ocean at the horizon
Only the mountains remain as the witness
And you are a strong adherent of obscurantism

When you get hit by the morning's first sun rays
And the rainbows that make you blind
Just like tracing the contours of her body
And you take a look at the smirk on her face
an explosion with a blinding flash and it's gone

A pack of cigarette and a drink from a neat whiskey glass
Losing yourself to the sound of sporadic storms
Painting a picture of thunder in your mind
Shaky hands blemishing a spotless white sheet
And postcards to a concealed address that chose its own recipients
And there's the last one in yellow and green

Garib Rath(29.9.2016)

fading light at the corner of the roof
the pleasant sound of a speeding train at night
the whispers of carefree souls from the other coupe
the hushing sound of air passing by

the little kid above waking up to a bad dream
his mother somehow kept him quiet
he started to love the gentle swing of the moving train
and closed his eyes to go back to his dream


"good night", murmured a voice from somewhere
as the last light was silently stabbed
the world outside is merely a shadow
of all the troubles you've left behind
and the nights you wondered why the moon
isn't beautiful as the stars that give hope to many lives

confined to a small place at the corner
I smiled at the trees that stood still
and the clouds that looked like a fake pandora's box
I could see myself in the star that stared at me
It wanted to walk in my shoes for a while
and taste the last tinge of happiness of autumn
 suddenly my vision became weak
little drops of water filled the window pane
as if the world outside is taking a revenge on my imagination

it was then when I called it quits
and closed my eyes to enjoy a dream
a dream that would wake me up to a different world
a world where the darkness overshadows the light

Hypothetical Reality

Like a lush green field and the silver smoke
The accentuated words from a yellow page
The wretched musing of an old fashion book
A dainty smile at the corner of your lips
But your heart skipped a beat
Your eyes failed to look at the truth
Does it still hurt to walk bare feet?
I could fathom no reason why the autumn is so beautiful
When the trees are like a naked woman
We all use melancholy as an excuse to pacify our consciousness 

The sorrow is itself a misery
It hides the adolescence and you become pensive for all the wrong reasons
Just like the dark clouds hide the blue sky's lucidity
How about the night that promised you serenity?
The stars that pledged to lighten up your dreams?
The rain that took an oath to clean everything undesirable?
The rock that assured no one would stumble?
Your unkindness is justified
But it still hurts to know all of these promises are futile

Lustrous Imagination

Verse As I woke up and looked at the mirror today And the moonlight was creeping through my window pane There's something that quietly drove me insane Pre Chorus Think I heard someone knock at my back door And I hit something hard and fell down on my floor Then I shut my eyes and didn't want all of these no more Chorus But I was stranded on the sand by the sea far away Tangled waywardly, stars looked down as I lay As I think of my past about the mundane days I am in love with an eerie glow of this place Verse The aging night was getting cold and exciting Though I was trying to keep my emotions at bay And I didn't want all of these to go away Pre Chorus Think I heard something tickle my bare feet I couldn't stop gazing at the bright full moon When I woke up it was already half past noon Chorus But I was stranded on the sand by the sea far away Tangled waywardly, stars looked down as I lay As I think of my past about the mundane days I am in love with an eerie glow of this place

Puddle of Dreams

Song Link

Homeless child you're an inspiration
You've chased your dreams with no inhibition
Little child your tears have turned to laughter
Come on now and tell the world

We don't want to freeze in disbelief
We look at the same sky and smile
We don't need a religion to guide us
Divide us and raise conflict

Precious child you've filled your dark voids now
Coloured them with your mind and your soul
Little child your world's a different place now
Where one can breathe in a lot of love and grace

We don't want to freeze in disbelief
We look at the same sky and smile
We don't need a religion to guide us
Divide us and raise conflict

One Fine Morning

Basically a fictional song..

it is about a guy who just passed away and his body is still lying. but he somehow wakes up as an entity and he is happy and he wants all his friends and close people to be happy as well..so it was his wishful dream when he was lying dead...




It's time you know I should go
my friend do not feel so low
I don't know where I will stay
may be in the woods where birds lay
what's wrong and what's right I don't know
but it's time for me to go

can you hear a familiar voice singing?
as I sing this song one fine morning
you can hear the bells ringing
as I play this song one fine morning

you're telling me that I have become cold
as your tears shone like gold
do not cry, do not mourn my friend
sorrows? my songs will mend
I will write letters in the cloud with rain
which will make you free from all your pain

do you hear your favourite voice singing?
as I sing this song one fine morning
I'm sure you can hear the bells ringing
as I play this song one fine morning

now you smile and look up
the heaven is near and the sky looks sharp
clouds are missing but there is rain
poured words from my letters that removed your pain
you were happy and you sang
far away in the woods where the bells rang


now the world hears our voices singing
as we sing this song one fine morning
far away from the land where the bells were ringing
I played and you sang one fine morning

Happy

I am an avid listener, not a musician. I have a friend who has lost his parents in an accident. He stays with his brother who earns just enough to arrange food for EITHER lunch or dinner. My friend has a wounded heart but he never begged or cried. At the end of the day his fingers cried when he expressed his feelings through his six string. Little did he know about his only audience, cause he never saw light after the accident. I used to keep myself free for an hour at night everyday to feel the pain of a deceased soul in the form of melodies. The tunes were magical, so was his voice. I wish I could tell him how I used to enjoy his songs. One day he wrote a song about me. He sounded cheerful like never before and that made me the happiest person alive. That moment made me realize the power of music. The fact that one should feel music more than he/she hears. He inspired me to fall in love with music all over again and he gave it a new dimension. Today I am with a six string. Writing a song about the above excerpt. And this time he is my only audience and he smiled for the first time after that incident. We both were happy because at the end of the day we achieved something through music no matter how small it is. We made each other happy.





He sat on his dearest space and told a story everyday with a piece of wood, his only friend fingers cried with a mellowed end I have been his fan for a while learnt his grief from what he played his magical tunes blew my mind a majestic voice that was surreal brother got his meal but never saw him smile never touched his meal before his story was complete Never knew I sat beside him felt every note he played tried to guess what he'd play next he was my favourite till date I thought I should let him know how I loved every note he played I could write a book on him Never saw him smile until one day He was singing a happy tune that day could relate to it in every way He played the whole tune about me Sang two verses about his only fan Now I am in love with my wood as the roles have changed He can't see but he can feel As I'm singing this song just for him Finally he smiled And I smiled back "We Won my friend" and we were happy

Affinity

It was an unusual monday morning in December. The sun refused to shine and Kolkata never anticipated a heavy rainfall a week before Christmas.

17th December, 1998:-

Tanushree- "Yes, Kamala, He is doing well these days"
Kamala-" I'm very relieved to hear that Mrs. Tanushree", while keeping the cleaned utensils in the kitchen. "What about Babu? Has he started going to school?"
Tanushree-" Yes, he started going to school from last week and today after a long time Karthik and I are going to pick him up from school"
Kamala-" Even the weather is not doing great, anyway I will come early tomorrow and wash the remaining clothes and get Babu ready for school"
Tanushree-"See you tomorrow, Kamala"...
A noise comes from the bedroom..

"Karthik is that you?" asks a mellowed voice of Tanushree
Karthik-"I am getting ready Tanushree, We are going to take Babu out for lunch today"
Tanushre-" I am excited as well, after a long time"
Tanushree kisses his husband's forehead and goes to the room to get ready
Karthik is driving after a year. He was in the asylum after a very unusual mental disease. The doctor promised that he will get well but it will take time. He came back in October just after the city celebrated its most coveted Durga Puja.
Karthik-"Tanushree, now that I am getting better, I want to narrate one of the most weirdest nightmares I had when I was in Babu's age, I promise it won't have any grave repercussions"
Tanushree(After an expected silence)-"Ok but you should slow down the speed of your car"
Karthik-(Taking a dig at the Jadavpur Thana Jam, takes a deep breath and starts narrating the incident)
As I said I was in Babu's age and I don't remember the exact date but it was December, I don't remember the year but it was a weekday. I was with my grandmother in Ballygunge and as you know AGs is very accessible from that area.
The Sun was shining bright and there was no hint of rain. The weather was chilly and I woke up around 3a.m from a very distasteful dream. I shouted and cried and never wanted to go to school that day but I was in between my 3rd term examinations in school.
I was awake for the rest of the night and got ready for school as soon as the clock striked 7. I couldn't stop thinking about the dream I had. It came back to haunt me in my washroom, when I was putting on my school uniform, when I was in the car, when I was crossing the road, it was there everywhere for the rest of my life as you can see.
The signal was green and Karthik again took a deep breath to get into the dream that took his life to a different path. As he was driving through the streets of Dhakuria he started....
As a 12 year old kid, I was having this dream of owning a car someday and exploring the City of Joy like no one ever did before. I saw myself wearing a spotless white tuxedo, driving a premium sedan and enjoying the charm of my city.
Tanushree interrupted with a question that every girl would ask
"Were you going on a date? Exploring Kolkata was just an excuse, isn't it?"
Karthik ignored the question
I would always pass by my school with a smile and look for known faces in the streets. So I planned my trip via Mullickbazaar-Park Street.
Kolkata had a different allurement back in the late 60s. It was easy to drive, traffic was sober, people would keep their mind straight and honk only if it was necessary.

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The little Karthik who was dreaming about all this had a repeat telecast of this dream but this time he was awake. He kept mum, he asked Bubun Da,his driver, to get him down at the Park Circus mor so that he can take a walk till his school.

He was pretty unobservant about his surroundings. He tried to sing one of his favourite Pink Floyd tunes " There's someone in my head but it's not me.
And if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear
You shout and no one seems to hear
And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon"
Co-incidence isn't it?
But it did not help.

He could see a red sedan car taking a turn from the 7-way Park Circus mor and it is heading straight towards him.
He could barely see a man he had seen in his dream, wearing a white tuxedo with a black polka dotted bow tie that looked like he was heading towards a very special ocassion.
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However, the young Karthik's mind was encapsulated with the speeding car which he refused to go by without stopping it. "He has a girlfriend too? Hey that's me, right?" and then the speeding car tried its best to make use of its brakes, the squeaky noise that woke everyone from sleep crashed into the young Karthik and further went on to crash against a potruding pole.

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Babuuuuuuu...........faltered a fragile and shaky voice
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Ending sequence

Crowd gathers, ambulances rush in.

Next day's headlines
"The past and the future kill the Present"
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Just like we lose our present to an indelible past and a precarious future..
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Inner-Self

As I stare through the window pane
I see and hear an inexplicable tale
Birds enjoying a moment or two
Some of them have come together
To relax on an advertising pole
To exchange their day's story
Not tensed about a single drop of rain
They are immune to heat

The advertisement hoardings are bloody attention seekers
But the river behind is clever
The water is gentle and kind
The serenity will blow any sane mind
Tall buildings at the banks look confused
as if they have the same questions like I do
Why is that boat seems like a person I know?
Trusting the wind to take it wherever it wants to
"Don't worry" whispers the cloud
"There ain't no shower, ain't no storm tonight"
"I don't care"-replied the vivacious boat full of life and ambition

The wired posts that gave light to the city, stood still
The golden sky behind was enough to shower merriment
The green land divided the river
But they couldn't separate their souls

The trees swayed to the tunes unheard
Red and white flowers humming compassionately  to the tunes
The sky is becoming lustreless
The wired posts twinkled
Little did the couple knew about the 'anecdote'
As they sat beneath the tree
and missed the entire show

An old man's cry

When we were young we had fun

wrote so many songs about the sun

like a beggar waiting for a man

old but we ain't undone

back then it was from the heart

no money to buy a shirt

music was true and they were sold

things changed as I grew old

Spent hours staring at the trees

closed my eyes to enjoy the breeze

wrote down how great I felt

as I saw the ice caps melt

Growing up was lightening fast

my songs were only I could trust

for they knew how I loved to rock

and how I felt on a lonely walk

My hair has become white now

I remember taking a vow

my music will always be true

which only my songs knew 

I remember the paintings I drew
of a leaf with a drop of dew
wrote songs on the same sheet
as the earth felt my bare feet 

back then it was from the heart

no money but wore a fancy shirt

music was true and they were sold

things changed as I grew old