ঠাট্টা

মাজৰাতি 

সপোনত 

ছায়ামূর্তি বোৰে

কিৰিলি পাৰি হাঁহে  

যেন সিহঁতে

মোৰ সপোন বোৰক 

ঠাট্টাহে কৰি আছে 

borokhun jaak
paar hoi jai
khorang mon lukai thake kosu paat'r tolot !

LOVE

love is
when
we meet 
but we do not talk
knowing
words are but nuisance
when all that matters
is that 
you and i
exist in the SAME world

lingering

you go away
but your shadow remains
lingering on my soul
growing
day by day
night by night
till
i am more of you
and less of me

the wait

she would wait for him, always

and did not care that he never came

sometime, half her vegetables would rot away, but she kept her faith

she waited for him, always

**this lady has her vegetable stall in domlur (bangalore). she is often found reading some kind of a prayer book while waiting for customers to come to her stall.

the undoing hope

the sun is a little larger today
a bit more round
a sated smile on its thin lips, after last night's sleep

she climbed up the ladder, poised dangerously against the blue sky
several rungs in one precarious go, several rungs in one hurried breath 
she wanted to get the sun down, 
before the cloud gets into her head

the sun smiled wider
knowing full well,
like always, it will cast its hopeful shadow on her
before she can pluck it off her rainbow weeded stark blue sky.

the smell of grief 2

the smell of grief
filled the room

all left one by one
till only grief remained

sadness is always a lonely business

HALF THE MOON AND A BIT MORE

She looked at him, opened her mouth to say something and then, decided otherwise. He was lying spread-eagled on the bed, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. She looked up and caught sight of the cobwebs at the corner of the ceiling of the hospital room.

"What do you see caught in the cobwebs?" His voice startled her. She did not know that he was watching her.

Eyes still on the cobwebs, she replied, "I see a boy staring at me." She turned her face towards him and smiled. "This cob web is a mirror; a magical mirror Prateek. I see you and me in it. You are staring at me. We are still in college. While passing the college corridor, I see you staring at me from the corner of my eye. My friends keep telling me that you worship the ground I walk. And every time they speak about you, I break out in giggles. I hear those giggles in the cobweb."

He scrutinized her face. There was no trace of joke in her expression. Nor could he see any trace of sadness in her face thankfully. He kept looking at her with mild interest. She smiled at him and shook her head vigorously.

"What are you shaking away? Old memories? Past mistakes?", he asked kindly.

She laughed at his question, a gentle, rippling laugh. "You know what Prateek, I never shake away memories. Time is a cobweb, and all my memories are trapped in it. I see you staring at me in the college days, I remember accepting your facebook friend request, I remember fondly our first coffee date, I remember our first Maggi date…”  Her voice trailed away.

"Memories don’t lie, or do they? And they do not die!", Prateek said almost to himself.

"Yes, memories don’t die ", she echoed.  "You remember? The little poems you wrote for me. I guess they made me fall madly in love with you. And then you told me those were all copied from your favourite poet! What is his name?"

"Pablo Neruda," said Prateek.

"Yes,  Neruda. The lines I liked the most were: ' I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,

in secret, between the shadow and the soul.' I thought you had written those lines because of my dark complexion.", laughed Maya.

"I chose those lines because I love you. I mean, loved you.", he sighed.

"Maybe you still love me, secretly? As certain dark things are to be loved?" She was laughing. 

He looked at her. She has this habit of finishing awkward questions with a laugh. A year back, Maya had asked the most fatal question, ending it with a laugh, "Do you want to break up with me?" Prateek had never answered that question; he had just smiled. He often wonders how that smile looked to Maya. Did it look like a sad smile, a tired smile, a relieved smile, or did it look like a smile with no answers. But Maya had got his answer. She had hugged him tightly and told warmly: "We will always be friends; we have always been good friends."

She has kept her words. They have remained good friends and not just ‘once-upon-a-time-we-used-to-go-out’ friends. She would call him up often and rattle on about her daily life. He knows the names of all the irritating colleagues in her new office. And she knows the name of his new dog. In fact, she had looked after Bonzo when he and his new girlfriend were out of town for a weekend vacation. Yes, they have remained good friends. And here she is now, visiting him in the hospital. And asking awkward questions with a laugh!

He laughed back at her, a kind laugh and said, "We are good friends, we have always been good friends."

She suddenly stopped laughing. And when she spoke, there was no laughter in her voice. Her eyes had a gentle misty look as she said, "I will remember the poems you stole for me. You will remember my favourite spot in your neighbourhood park. You will remember how I kissed you; I will remember how you close your eyes when I kiss you. You will remember my laughs and my words. Soon I will give birth to my first baby and soon you will get married to your girlfriend. But however much we pretend in front of the world, we will always remember everything that happened between us. This is what good love does to you. It gives you lots of memories. Sacred memories that we hold close to our hearts and never let go. I know that sometime, when you will take Bonzo for his evening walk and he would be sniffing away the roadside grass, you would be thinking of me. And sometime, when I am singing a lullaby to my child, maybe I would remember you." She smiled.

Prateek could see that Maya was staring at the cobweb again. Without looking at Prateek, she said, "And you are my favourite nostalgia Prateek, almost like my favourite love." Prateek did not see it, but she was smiling at the cobweb.

***

That night Prateek wrote a poem for Maya:

half the moon and a bit more
for you
and all your favourite colours too, for you
i carry, as i walk beyond myself

your fists are clenched -
in refusal
i pry them open, finger by finger
ten moments of lifetime memories!
i touch them
as if i touch my old life again

i slid the half and more moon on your finger
it fits like the perfect ring
i put down your favourite colours by your bedside
they look like the perfect dream

then
i walk beyond myself, and away from you.

As he closed his diary, he was smiling, thinking that Maya would perhaps never know that he finally actually wrote some lines for her. As he settled down to sleep, he kept staring at the cobwebs.