death

how little by little you die
till there is no more left to die

aita'r xadhu kotha

xopun jaak puhor'ot mur dangi uthe!

xopun jaak je
aita'i xondhiya tuloxi tolot joluwa 
saki gosor dore
jolok-molok, dhimik-dhamak!

aita'i xondhiya tuloxi tolot joluwa 
saki gosor dorei
xopon jaak'u
rati'r andhar'or logot
bilin hoi jai,
lahe lahe

tel'ot lut put
numai juwa xolita'r gaat'e bheja lagi
thaki jai mathu xopun jaak'r saya

andhar rati'r gaat lipt khai thake, xopun'r saaya
andhar saki'r gaat lipt khai thake, xopun'r saaya
nimau-mau tuloxi tolot sore mrito xopun'r saya

etiya aita'u nai
aru egosa saki jolai diboloi
etiya aita'u nai
jadu loga xadhu kotha'r jadu loga rup kathi'r porox'ot
xopun jaak'ok akou puhorai tuliboloi

extra hour

loneliness
is that
midnight call
that goes unanswered
yet, invades the whole night
with its shrilling absence in the dark hours

and all we ask is
one extra hour
so that we can answer that call
so that this loneliness is gone

sometime

sometime you want to go to a new place
a place claimed by no memory
sit below a tree, or may be an old rusted gate
look at your own reflection on the water of a nameless river. hear
the songs of nameless birds...
look at the sky and wonder how the evening would be.
you spend the whole day without waiting for the evening. and
when the evening comes, you welcome it with a smile,
let it sit besides you as the birds sing a lullaby and puts the day to sleep.

when you walk away from the place, you walk away knowing you would never come back here again
you also know that this tree, this gate will always be here
and some part of you will remain with them

 - as you spend your daily life somewhere else - in your city...town...office...
signing off a paper, boiling the water or wiping away your tears
even then,
a part of you would be here - may be glowing with the rust as the first ray of sun falls on the rusted gate
- or blowing with the leaves as a gentle breeze passes by.

sometime you want to go to a new place
...a place claimed by no memory.
sit below a tree, or may be an old rusted gate.

because sometime you want to go away

jasmine dream

the night is like a tree
a tree, with sprawling branches
one branch spreading over my balcony
another, surreptitiously lurking in your corner of the garden

the night grows deeper, 
jasmine blooms in your garden
and climbing branches, the fragrance seeps over to my house.

a sweet fragrant dream visits me
a jasmine dream, i smile in it
i tell you i do not want this night to leave

we let the night remain in my balcony,
while donning the cloak of night 
with jasmine memories, i go away instead

the jasmines still bloom
white, radiant and fragrant 
and i still smile in my dream
as one jasmine branch surreptitiously creeps over to your garden