Comeback

Dear friend,why are'nt you laughing?
Its a land of happiness where you are,
The stars shine bright and the church bells are ringing,
Trace of gloom and sadness is very rare;
The nightangle sings songs of spring,
The buds are about to open their eyes,
The leaves murmur, the branches swing,
The ocean has hidden in its breast all their sighs;
And the lovely flowers that grow by the roadside
Are dancing too in rhythm,
They have known their existence too is a pride,
As the sun smiles for them;
The tiny pebbles on the street move about randomly
As the soothing breeze carries them
The dust,the rusty leaves are all happy;
Everyone is lost in the game;
Now the green leaves have forgotten to mock at the yellow,
And they together ornate nature's home,
The ocean,the rivers - small, big, deep and shallow,
They all have rights to loiter and roam;
The trees are bowed with fruits on them,
And they are no more selfish, no more rude,
They feel no grievance , no shame
Perhaps they have known the joy of motherhood;
Every trivial being, big and small laugh,
Its the victory of joy over gloominess,
And its a glorious return to nature,
Dear friend, its your comeback to happiness.

Who Knows?

My friends do not know me,
I come from a mystic nation,
I cant laugh, I cant cry , I cant foresee
I do not have any emotion

The mirror does’ nt show me
The ocean stays still
The mountain bows to me
I am the master of my will

I stay calm , when mortals lament
I pass by the dead lanes
Without a drop trickling down, so silent;
I reside above all feelings and sentiment

I do not wish to know anyone
But I know myself,oh, who says!
My courage says it to everyone
I make my own ways

Who knows when my oddness
Had become me!
Who knows when my lonliness
Had overpowered me!

Who knows when I was desserted
And thrown out to face the cruel self
And then least cared
Who knows when I succumbed to death.

(Written on 05.02.09 at 12 am)

In my dreams...

In the depths of dream was I,
When I saw you my friend,
In the depths, alone, there I lie,
Waiting , waiting for the end

I saw a light in the distant lane
Who knows from where did it come
A spark that made me feel alive again
So much my own , so much warm

You came like a gust of wind
And swept everything close to me
Who knows what else is to unwind
And what else is there for me to see

A stagnant pool of water was I
You transformed it to a river
A river that washed away every sigh
A river that may reach you never

An old rusty lock , few discoloured pages
With no one to write a new story
Some idle moments and a stack of memories,
You sought to find out the key

I feel your fragrance in the misty air
I feel your presence in my sadness, in my delight
A friend who is so precious, so rare,
Why cant you see me in your sight?

A stormy winter may be like you
Sweeping away everything
I cry, I urge , but nothing replies to rue
Over my void , leaving behind nothing


And suddenly when my eyes open, I see the reality infront
As stale and silent as ever
Once again set to haunt
Because the river may be lost forever

(Written on 04.02.09 at 8pm)

An Ode To Life

The antique apertures were all closed and dark,
The air rarefied,
Inside the castle was she, struck
With sorrow and horrified.

She grew up in that way;
And never met anyone.
She lived life in a deadly way,
She had never waited for someone.

The castle stood high up in the air,
It was majestic and gorgeous,
It symbolized pride and splendour,
Its apparent hardness was obvious.

People were all afraid of the strange structure,
No one ever dared to enter it,
The emotions in her never did rupture,
The castle was a rare piece with sky above and earth beneath.

And then once in a bright morning,
A narrow sunbeam did make its way,
Through the tranquil ancientness, so overpowering,
It was perhaps the only courage of the day.

She was struck with surprise,
As her face did illumine,
With the countless glowing device,
And she entered into a new world of sunshine.

Now she was happy and gay,
For her old strangeness she did repent;
New hopes bloomed in her way.
The tender touch was so sentient.

Her heart was dazzling with delight,
The heart that has been untouched for days,
Now her happiness touched a new height,
And she thanked the bright sunrays.

It taught her to love, it taught her to live
Her notion of life and its miseries changed;
The passionate particles knew to contrive
Her oddness, and her thoughts from east to west ranged.

She now understood, it is only affection
That can give and take everything,
That gave her an unsaid satisfaction,
And the heavenly gift to her from the glowing sunbeam.

(Something needs to be written about this poem.This peom I wrote when I was 16.This is my first poem .Although I used to write some pretty decent poems as a kid, but then before this one came, I last wrote when I was in Std V.So can say this is my first poem.It was 11th Nov and I woke up suddenly at 4 am,( you only know how unusual is that for me!), because suddenly it happened to me.So one can say, that it is really my dream poem and very close to my heart)

Why I am NOT a Symbian

Dictionary says Symbiosis means "any interdependent or mutually beneficial relationship between two persons, groups, etc.".But do I really belong to that category?
I have many faces - red , green , blue,white and so on.Am I myself aware of those faces?Sometimes yes and most of the times no!They keep on changing like masks.They make me puzzled. I remember once I dreamt of being a carbon atom where my face goes for substitution reaction.Perhaps that was an overdose of organic chemistry in the early years of your life when you just begin to "make" masks.But now I find how true that was.Now I can make,wear and sell masks.My faces are not individuals, some of them like parasites.Creeping creatures who constantly struggle with each other, in an unending endevour to defame each other.And not only this, I sometimes even forget which one is my real face?May be that lies below all these masks!!And why is it so shy to make its presence felt ?May be because the new faces are so much overpowering.But sometimes when in the lonly hours I look at myself I feel desperate, desparate to tear off all those .None of the faces are in symbiosis, none of the faces want each other.How true that is when we see things around us.I may sound skeptic.I may sound pessimistic.But isnt that true?We all have faces, we all are constantly struggling to project the best face.Illusion, they say sometimes makes you happy.True.We human beings are living life in a kind of illusion.We are utmost sensitive to our own needs , be it materialistic or emotional.And we do everything for people we love.Isnt that utmost self centeredness?Because we cannot live without them.Because as humans we are also like parasites who need support and reinforcement to survive.But how often do we think about other people?Isnt the charity we do is also for self satisfaction of being benevolent?I know I can never arrive at objectivity in this regard.When I looked into myself I found that I am a mixture of heterogenous thoughts with contending forms of human rationality and self enforced definitons of logic.I give replies to only those questions which I would like to address and even those questions were formulated by me.We have travelled a long path since the days of Feudalism to Post Modernism all to determine the true human nature.But it seems like a mirage because whatever I think,I think about me,and I mend all the ways to fit that.And when other people criticise me then they too do the same.So I can never get a true picture of what I am.All my faces ,they argue with each other and finally the one wins which fits the situation best to satisfy my personal satisfaction.Hence for the same reason I can treat two different persons differently, I can love one person and hate other ,both having same "specifications" and I can utilise the same dimension of time in different ways.
So all my faces are prime characters in the play called Bidisha.And they cannot mingle with one another, rather all of them exist, in perfect animosity, because the faces ,if they would have been similar would have become one single unit.Their very existence is because they are so different and antagonistic.So I am not a Symbian and I cannot be a Symbian.I only need to identify all those faces..may be one day I will be able to see the multi faced me ....

An Autobiography of a Weathered Leaf

Do you know me my beloved?
I am a torn, yellow, weathered leaf
Of your premises, that is swept
By every small blow of wind, yes, I am just a weathered leaf.
My destination is nowhere
I am carried there, where the gusty winds take me...
I abide here and there
But no one offers a home to me
And whenever I pass by the lanes
Where I can feel your fragrance
My tears come along, like a thousand rains,
And my urge deepens for one glance
My roads are never the same
Sometimes, I travel along the red countryside
And sometimes by the rugged lane
Sometimes across the barren rocks and sometimes by the seaside.
In my endless journey, where the path never does cease
I carry laughter, tears, success and failures with me
I talk to flowers, birds and the gentle breeze
I sleep at the cradle of the shadowy tree
But again, whenever I see myself
In the lucid watersIt reminds me of my green days and I seek myself
In some lost days, in some forgotten years.
And while I travel in the lands far, far away
Yet there's something that holds me back to the past
A bunch of hopes, some stale memories of happiness and gay
And some unspoken feelings that forever last....

P.S. This poem reminds me of JU days..some lost memories,some forgotten lanes...

Soul Dies

Life seems to be a burden of my dead desires,
Hope, nothing but a very distant vision,
Likelihood of some happiness is nil,yet the cruel hours
Are gliding on and on.

There are many men around me,
But yet I am desserted from the crowd,
I have known myself and they have known me,
Oh!I cant love them,I cant hate them,I cant cry aloud

The nature is scattering its sparkling beauty
Everywhere can be seen the glory of sanguine sunshine,
But I can perceive a dark world within,devoid of serenity
A world where I can find nothing mine.

I still carry the burden of my rotten desires.
And survive with the support of some stale memories,
Things were never like this in the past years,
Now I have faced complere seiure of all my feelings.

Everything remains unchanged and the same,
But I am lifeless and tired of pretensions,
My captivity has overpowered my name,
And I am left with my own ruins.

I have never known my sin,
Yet I am lost and I will come back never
I have no tears to shed at my coffin,
My soul has died,my soul rests forever.
PS. : This poem was written long back in 2000