The White Owl

The shrill voice,
Across the silent night sky;
The searing white light,
Across the dark starless sky;
The incessant city lights,
Blinding the sights of the nocturnal beast;
Taking away innocent lives,
In the darkness of the electrocuted lights;
The twisted beak,
Filled with horrors from the folklore;
The silent prey,
Sleeping peacefully;
Aghast of the presence,
Clinging onto the weak twigs;
The greater power,
Foreseeing with visions unseen;
The flapping of wings,
Unperturbed by the sleep;
The uncaring nature,
Fixing the boards of life!

ROLLING ON...

Ever seen sober people who cannot walk in a
straight line... Just be on a ship with a very
rough weather outside.


The South China Sea at this time of the year is
one of the roughest waterbodies of the world. The
tide is almost 7m. and current of 3nauts and even
the fully loaded ship is rolling like anything.
Plates going here and there in the galley, people
walking in sinusoidal paths on the decks and the
need for handrails on stairways is the most needful
thing at this time.



Lying on the bed of the cabin you can't help
thinking that you are having a roller coaster
ride. Rolling from one end of the cot to the
other. The amperage of the motors increasing, the
propeller overspeeding at times, its a chilling
thing to work on the open deck with the rain
getting stronger every hour.



Been on the deck today to check the engine room
vents, I saw a fishing trawler in the distance
bobbing up and down like one of those crazy balls
we used to play with in childhood. I get amazed by
the will power and the love for adventure of the
human kind.



Imagine the vikings taking it to the fierce sea
storms that too in their least sophisticated
vessels of the 14th/15th century, with no ballast
tanks or such comfortable accomodations.



The visibility also being low, heard the ship horn
the umpteenth time today. Standing on the Bridge,
one can see the forces of nature playing together.
The wind force is so strong that you definitely
need a shelter to visualise the surroundings. But
when you do, you really feel how infinitesimally
small we humans are at the hands of nature.
However sophisticated or advanced we maybe, we
still are merciful at the wrath of nature.



The time when standing becomes difficult and you
still got to find your way through the maze of
pipelines on the tank top, you really start
admiring the seafarers of the past who had climb
up those masts in order to adjust the sails.




All in all its a thing you definitely want to
cherish for the times ahead.

Sailing without the Sails

Hey Mates,

For all of you who are wondering their mind(s) out about me... am doing real good :) The crew and the officers are very friendly and my previous professional experience is helping a lot. The engineers are really happy about the fact that I already know so much about the machines though this being my very first ship. There is simply no problem I am facing due to the rolling and pitching of the ship, though we encountered a lot of bad weather in the South China Sea. Presently we are in the South China Sea near Phillipines and sailing towards Daesun (South Korea).

Am doing all the major overhauls of the machines, that too on my 2nd and 3rd day onboard the ship. That is I've done the 3rd engineer's as well as the 2nd engineer's work. So everyone wants to take me with them for the work :) Am finding the ship very homely.

And to tell something about the food... I really don't want to go back home if this kind of food prevails for long :) Every morning having a power packed breakfast with things like brown breads, cheese slices, bacons, apples, oranges, mayonaese, milk, eggs :)

This was only the breakfast. So hope you can imagine how the lunch and dinner goes on :) Just yesterday there was pomphret fry for lunch and like we have the whole fish, I also ate up the whole thing only the middle fishbone was left in the plate. Captain had a glace at my plate and went off like, "You ate up the whole thing??" with a peculiar look on his face. I said like "Sir, we actually eat up the whole thing." Then he said, "ya I know how you Bengalis are so very fond of fishes." I gave a smile... Captain taa akta buro lok but khub bhalo lok. Amake dekhlei khali 'noddy' r moto ghaar naare aar bole.. "Everything fine?" :)

And the chief is a damn good person. Forsha, lomba, a gentleman. The Second Engineer's wife is on board and gives me so many chocolates that I got to share them with other people :) (gaining favour at the expense of others) :)

Chief Cook taa ke akdom puropuri potiye niyechi... Malta amar kache eshe khali bole "ek Cigarette" aar pet thushe khawae... :) Today got my first carton of B&H :)

Today morning a very nice thing happened. Got up from sleep and day was just breaking. I glaced through the ocean through my port hole (I do it everyday dilligently, to get a feel of the day), saw a number of seagulls flying around the forward mast of the ship. That indicated that we were near land. Checked out with the Bridge, and yes we were really near the Phillipines. Nice things happening. Sometime after too much working and sweating, I go up and stand on the deck for sometime too get the real feel of the sea. Akdin 2 to Dolphin dekhechhi besh duure. Dolphin naki timi machh janina. Sometimes there are other ships that pass through,, but a very distant form.

Work is good. But this being an UMS class vessel, the engine room is unmanned after 17:00, except only if some alarm comes up. So from Morning 7:00 to 17:00, with breaks for breakfast, lunch and tea. And soooo many priviledges being in BP, and that too in a vessel in such a good condition.

And about the the first international flight I embarked upon... :) That was really some experience. I just took my Boarding Pass and there was a voice from the side, "SOMU!!" I just turned my head and saw Mr.Sumantra Chaudhuri getting his boarding pass in the same flight, but the Business Class :) Really some good thing. Then I met Jethiji in the waiting area before boarding the flight. Didn't get to meet jethiji this time round in calcutta. So ultimately destiny prevailed yet again. While boarding, just when the door opened, it was announced that first the people on wheelchair will proceed, then diplomats and et all, then business class people and then Economy class people. So,
Sundorjethu: Somu, chole aaye...
Amio gotgot kore hete chole gelam.
The security guard stopped me.
Sundorjethu: Arey dhur, chharoto... amar chhele :P
Abaar aami gotgot kore uthe porlaam.
Just seat e boshe kombol er packet taa chhirechhi...
Sundorjethu: Somu, bhalo jaega peyechhistoh...
Almost all the people onboard got to know that I am with somebody in the Hall of Fame, so that made me in the Balcony of fame too :)
He got me introduced to the Basketball referee of India, who was heading for the asian games or something in Indonesia probably..
Then went with him to see what Business Class is..
Sundorjethu: Ne jaja achhe kheye ne.. :P
I also followed suite.
Sundorjethu: Era kintu besh bhalo khawaye... shatiye jaabi... :)
Toh ami bollam "Du akta jinisher naam bolo janina to ki bolte hobe... But eventually I got a Menu Card, from where I could order anything any number of times without any extra expense from my pocket :P
That time I thought "Damn you Maa, aamake kano bekaar Khashir mangsho aar Bhaat khaiye pathiyechhile?? pet e ak fota jaega nai!" So I had to cover up the same from elsewhere... :)

Had a drink called ki Bailley's Irish Cream, don't worry I didn't know of the thing, sundorjethu told me about it... besh bhalo :P otaai kheyechhi besh duto... along with some other things :) But plane chhartei tray tey kore niye eshechhe Juice and Beer. Toh aabar jigesh kore "which one would you like to have Sir?" ki mushkil "boli beer taa daao... eshob ki aabar jigesh korte hoe naki??" chinkuta heshe dilo aabar :) otaa khete khete besh cinema dekhchhilam akta... abar khete ichhe holo... bell bajiye bollam "Boy, get me another beer." taar sathe abar jhuribhaja diye galo... :) taar por besh kotaa oi Irish Cream merechhi :) shob gile ghumaiya disi... tarpor ak chinku aisha daake... "Sir, you need to wake up we are landing" Toh aami bollam " Dakhona Belt taa plane take off koraar por theke khuli i ni jaate ghumiye porle naa daako" uff oke aar ke bojhaye...

And singapore was really awessome... was too sleepy because of the late night flight and the hassles the previous day, so instead of venturing out, I preferred to catch up some sleep and then lunch. After lunch, was picked up from the hotel along with the 2nd engineer and an AB to the jetty. From there we had to go by boat for about 30 mins to the place where the ship was anchored. Great things, preferably because of the first time.

Let's see what I have in store and hope for the best and keep praying.

The Aeonian Beauty

Watching the ants
Marching along,
Knowing their own way,
Or following,
Marching for a reason unknown
Marching for a cause obscure.

I stand there alone,
Away from the crowd,
Away from the herd.
My words go unheard,
My squall goes unheeded.
The words don't sound the same
Outside my head.

It seems the silence
Is here to stay!

All the razor edges disappear,
Colours look brighter when you are near.
The stars shine like fireballs
Around your silk-skinned aura.
I look at you with engrossed eyes
Your amorous self grows closer.

Your ambrosial envisage,
Your naive beauty,
Draws me ever closer to you.

I've seen you from the day I was born,
You were there for me
When my heart was unanimously torn.
I'll be far away when you'll still smile!

The love, the pain, the hope,
Oh beautiful one,
Will remain forever,
Oh the damsel of the night.
Your eyes will remain in my paradise,
Your smile will make my soul rise!

Presence

Shadowy visions
Going blurred,
The dry leaves
Getting charred;
Smokey images
Of a life left far behind,
Thoughts wandering
In the surreptitious mind.



Equal distances
Infathomable,
Known expressions
Inexplicable,
Regular shapes
Changing forms,
Optical reflections---
An illusion of the past!

Phoenix

Cut a blade of grass
It would never bleed
Thoughts of growing back again...

Melt a piece of ice
Turning to water
Thinking of freezing back again...

Shed the leaves
Come winter
Storing to grown the next spring...

Bleeding from the wound
To colour the earth red
Healing to shed some more...

Stopping the flow
The rock ahead
To jump over it...

Window glasses
To stop the gale
For the wind to blow again...

Candles burning
Giving off light
Only to be lighted again...

Glasses emptied
Thirst quenched
To be filled up once more...

Ashes flown by wind
Conjuring up
To be burnt again...

Kites flying high
Bounded by strings
To be brought down again...

Sun setting in myriads of colours
For the beautiful stars to see
And sunrise once againe...

Waters going up
Intense heat
Only to be raining again...

Memories stocked in
Dying again
To live life once...

Burning with the fag.

How many times must a man be screwed
Before he's called a man?
How many litres must his car burn
Before it gives off smoke?
Yes, how many times must he wake up
Before he can sleep sound?
The answer my friend is burning with the fag
The answer is burning with the fag.

Yes, how many years can a tortoise exist
Before its shell is crushed to shards?
Yes, how many times can a lizard escape
Before it has to sacrifice the tail?
Yes, how many times can a candle flicker
Struggling amidst the harsh wind?
The answer my friend is burning with the fag
The answer is burning with the fag.

Yes, how many grains have to be collected
Before it makes a desert?
Yes, how many drops must the river possess
Before it can flood?
Yes, how many barbs have to be fenced
To keep the wind away?
The answer my friend is burning with the fag
The answer is burning with the fag.


---- remembering Dylan my own way :P

Distance

The distant stars
See each other every moment,
Loathing to converse
Insurmountable space between;
Ages have passed,
Still they try to speak.

The conjugal waves
Ride beside each other,
Lashing on the shores
The thoughts unspoken;
They grow with might
Still ride beside.

The high mountains
Standing above all,
Covered with the same snow
Born of the same earth;
Being brooded
By the same cloud.

The ethereal silence prevails,
The eternal bondage looms;
The distant relation
Abridged with time;
The unsurpassed silence
Helping their bond grow better.

Darkness among Lights

The lights
Twinkling and shinning,
Even the stars
Trying to compete.

The howling sirens
Deafening the senses,
Amidst all glory...

Here i am,
Masked in darkness;
In the
Festival of Lights.

The phlegmatic moon,
Damsel of the night;
Hiding herself
From the torchbearers of time!

Away from the machinations,
The mind wanders aimlessly
Through the dark paths
Unseen!

Trying to find the way
Without help from the shamans,
Faltering through
The woods of silent lives.

Following the reflection
In those dark waters,
Lively images of the past;
Whispering notes in the ears--
Deafened by the silence of the night.

The chill of the wind,
Sharing its warm friendship
With the unseen darkness,
The cynicism left far behind.

An Illusion

****************************************************************************************************

AN ILLUSION

There is a stark difference between illusion and reality. Though the Ancient Vedas describe all reality as Maya(Illusion), a fine line separates reality from illusion. When an orphaned kid roams about the streets of an unknown city, it all seems like an illusion to him. But suddenly his head starts spinning his legs grow weak; the hunger for reality makes him stumble over a little pebble which he could earlier have jumped over.

Even this hunger may seem like an illusion on a wider perspective, as to why the body needs food when the world is getting filled up with wastes. When we have very little to survive with, the wastage is minimised-- almost nil, because even the wastes become productive things. So this maybe an illusion that the world is getting enriched-- with the manifold increase in unwanted matter!

When the lonely traveler (a Baul) goes on walking through the dusty streets singing for his maker, singing for himself, he does not feel the pangs of hunger anymore-- does not feel the pangs of reality. This world all seems like an illusion to him. His melancholy song does not fill the ears of his listeners, because he has none! He does not share a stage with millions thronging before him to hear his notes. He does never crave for fame, never thinks of carving his own fiefdom in the epoch he lived in. He lives in his own illusion of the world!

**

Suddenly Nantu found himself standing in front of the staircase. He was craving to have a taste of the natural air, being confined in the air-conditioned room for so long. Though Nantu was a bit claustrophobic as a child, he had to get hold of his mind as he could not leave his work within the closed walls of his chamber and manage to get some fresh air more often. When Nantu could get over such a grave illness with the solitary strength of his mind, the number of people visiting the doctors may come down, at least some day.

While climbing the stairs, Nantu tried to think of the last time he made his way to the top-- that was quite a long time. Though he had left sports a long time back, his heart was still strong enough to be suited to pumping enough blood even beating in a low note.

Nantu did not remember if the number of stairs had been so much, still he was not a person to pull himself back from an idea he had conceived. Finally he reached the end of the stairs and remembered that the construction had not changed a bit. There were two doors opposite to each other on either side of the staircase. Nantu pulled open the door to the left when suddenly his mind was clouded like the sky above. Working in the artificial environment of his chamber he had forgotten to look out through the window before coming up.

Nantu did not want to get drenched, though as a child he liked the rainy season above all, when he could jump on the puddles and smear his shorts with the mud, when he could play football on his bare feet trying hard to get a foothold in the mud.

With all those memories crossing his mind, Nantu suddenly saw someone sitting in the farthest corner of the roof with his back towards the door where Nantu was standing. He was astonished as well as flabbergasted trying to think as to who could be sitting there in the rain with just a white cloth to cover his trunk. The unkempt hair went down the back with the raindrops gliding over the bunch of hair.

Nantu could not keep himself stranded in that corner seeing another person getting drenched in the non-seasonal rain. With initial hesitancy he ultimately walked into the rain towards the half naked figure. The locks of hair were evidence to the uncountable number of days it hadn't been washed properly. Still Nantu was in a dilemma if all this was another dream he was having.

He went further ahead so that he was facing the man. Looking into the face with the closed eyes of the old man, Nantu was taken aback.

**

The flowing white beard had become a tuft of wool drenched in the rain. The face was somewhat sublime and its expressions told Nantu that the person had no feeling of the chill of the rain or the presence of an unknown man before him. Seeing the eyes of the old man fully closed and engrossed in some heavenly concentration, Nantu tried making some abrupt noises to draw his attention. Was this yet another dream he was having-- Nantu pinched himself, but it hurt!

In the midst of the non-seasonal rain the old man's face no signs of remorse, let alone discomfort. His mind was probably in some other world, with the body drenched in the earthly rain. Looking at the halcyon face of the old man Nantu remembered something-- once, while in Banaras he saw several sadhus, after a peaceful smoke in their chillum stared into the Ganges and had a peculiar expression on their faces. As if no mortal wow or dissatisfaction could hinder their peace of mind. He could draw unfaltering similarity between the two.

The colour of the old man's face seemed somewhat pale to Nantu and he could not answer himself if it was for the chill of the rain or the other worldly feel that he was having probably. But slowly the face was getting ruddy and was filling up with a colour he had never seen before. Nantu was wondering if he could no longer stand the chill of the rain or even the growing power of the meditating face with those closed eyes.

Nantu could not help himself running away from the rain, the gloom and the unknown power of the old man.

**

He ran towards the other door to the terrace, the one on the right side of the staircase. On opening the door Nantu saw a very bright and breezy evening before him and the kids were flying their colourful kites, fighting over the stray ones which had landed out of nowhere. The kids, being from well-to-do families, had enough pocket money to buy dozens of such kites. Still they were fighting for the single stray kite that fell on the terrace.

Nantu knew whatever money one had in his pocket, there's nothing like fighting over a stray kite-- even he did as a kid! Even though you have enough money to buy a hundred kites, there's nothing like fighting for that single stray kite.

Nantu was staring at those children as if in an illusion as to what men really wanted to become!!

****************************************************************************************************

Raindrops

Raindrops high above,
Dancing in the wind.

Obscured visions;
The curtain of life.

Sucked in...
By the force of destiny---
Obedience is the rule.

The drops scatter,
Only to remind
That raindrops merge again!

--- dedicated to all those people who were a part of my life, but now live only in the pages of memory, because of the harsh wand of destiny.

Autistic

Look up
The trees fly by,
Fire above the ocean,
Cardboards moving around.

Those inciting lips;
Words they call them,
Beyond the valleys
Below the trenches.

Who are they?
They don't
Share the oasis---
Drinking, and drowning.

Gazing at the dying sun
Waiting for the eloquent beauty;
The burning candle
Floating, in the meandering ravine.

The curve in the lips
Clouded in daylight,
The leprous saints
Submitting to destiny.

The maladroit gestures,
Indecisive feelings,
The fallen leaves of autumn
Blown away by the wind!

Visions

Hanging
By the arrythmic thread of destiny;
Hoping
Not to end up in oblivion.
The lost catacombs
The impenetrable darkness,
The purity of fire
The ravenous misdeeds ---
All flash past
The misleading paths of memory.

Remembering
The pristine dewdrops on the grassy blades;
Recalling
The cluster of fireflies showing the way.
The velvet-skinned moon
The black rain-bearing clouds,
The freshness of the evening flowers
The poignant breeze from the sea ---
Memories of a childhood
Overshadowed by treachery!

Wishing
That mortals become human again;
Hoping
To see the rivers run pure again.
The dinghy boat swivelling among the waves
The hungry hawk vacillating overhead,
The winter birds nesting along the lakes
The sunset scattering hues, unhindered ---
Visions, not of a world utopian,
But of a world lived in!

In Remembrance of Those Cherished Memoirs

A gush of wind blows past
The barren land of lost thoughts;
Blowing away with the fruits of tommorrow,
The reeking past still beckoning!

Smoke from the dying fire
Rising high, wanting to be seen,
The cackle still resounding
Along the unknown paths trod by the lost nomad.

Shards of broken memoirs
Trying to join together,
Only to be made obliterable
By the harsh wand of destiny!


---- alas! the four resplendent years of graduation life (most importantly, hostel life) has ended all of a sudden....

Dithery Manana

Burnt remains
Of ashes and dust,
Of those capricious dreams;
Watching them incinerate apart
Like an infant staring
At its dead parents.


Thinking of jumping in the fire
But wanting to read,
Those unturned pages of destiny;
Like the sailor of a sinking ship
Trying to save himself
With desperation and hope.


The chill of the wind
Howling along the fecund lands,
Earth, fire, water and air
Conspiring together for this despair;
Nothing to confront the forces of nature
No time for the seeds to grow in stature.


The shattered dreams,
Resonating along those memory lanes;
The eluding past a reward,
The unwanted present exposed---
The mystic future vacillating
With those crushed visions of hope!



--- the future is gloomy....

The Lost One.

The dark feathers
Stimulated by the chill,
The weak legs
Trying hard to hold on;
The visions of the past
In those diminished eyes,
The lost soul
Confined in the avian body.



Flying at its own will
Barring the wind,
Flapping its wings
To remain motionless;
The ricocheting thoughts
Of those moments long gone,
The fixed gaze
Prevented by the eyelids.



Searching for a shelter
Frightened to come close,
Forsaken by mankind
Unscathed by nature;
Unfulfilled wishes immortalising
The unresentful memory,
Inured by the jaunt
Unrealised visions of the past.



A speck of fear resounds
As the sun starts to set,
The wind grows colder
And the journey it must undertake;
The eyelids become motionless
To savour one last image,
Time for it to fly away
The lost black crow!

----- sometimes the soul of the dead ones are reincarnated in other earthly forms....

Pragmatism

It was exceptionally cold for a day in November. The moon was unseen in the star-studded sky. Neksus felt the chill in the air when he went to bed. He was still wondering if it was the wind or his mind that was making him shiver so vigorously. Seeking refuge under the warmth of his quilt, he was feeling terribly miserable.

For the past few days he was not having a good, sound sleep. He used to wake up traumatised - shivering and sweating profusely only to find the moon in the sky. For all these years Neksus never had a sleeping problem. But of late, he was scared even to lie down in his bed. Murderous and gory thoughts always crossed his mind. Sometimes he would see himself in some sort of a ritualistic ceremony where he had to pierce his hand for a few drops of 'holy' blood. He would wake up terrorised to find the piercing in his hand in exactly the same place as he had seen in his dream. Neksus could not decipher the connection between his brutal dreams and reality. No matter how much he tried to forget them and not think anymore, he woke up aghast at hideously killing a beautiful child in his dream!

Neksus never shared these experiences with anybody. He thought of seeing a doctor and have those prescribed sleeping pills, but was dreadfully fearing the consequencesof speaking of those slaughterous dreams. Always remaining a very reserved person, Neksus never liked those rave partiesand social gatherings. His heart was writhing in agony within those four walls. The window was also close to bar the chill.
So disturbed was his mind that he was thinking if he would live long enough to see the next day. His mind was crossed with thoughts of newspaper headlines reporting his untimely death.

******

Suddenly Neksus sat up straight. He seemed to be in some sort of hurry and was hastily looking for something in his room. Never caring to switch on the lights, he was fishing in his wardrobe. Neksus didn't have a roommate, so both the wardrobes in the room belonged to him.

The only person staying back at the residential hall during this long vacation was Ikspir. He was the only person with whom Neksus went along pretty well. When Ikspir wasn't around, Neksus did not care to mingle with the other inmates.

On getting what he was looking for, Neksus ran straight out of his room towards Ikspir's. Very politely he rapped on the door. It was about to dawn and Ikspir was fast asleep. Slowly the raping gave way to thumping and the sound reverberated thoughout the building. On such a chilly weather, Ikspir did much to get out of his bed - "Who's that?"

When there was no reply, Ikspir knew it was Neksus' dirty tricks on him. Still he opened the latch of the door. As soon as the door opened, a strong blow on his forehead left Ikspir unconscious. Neksus was wearing a black woolen cap that covered his face except the eyes. He looked at Ikspir's body and with much affection lay him on his own bed. The he carefully locked the room from the inside and switched on the lights. He caressed Ikspir's forehead as if to help him gain consciousness. Suddenly, in the blink of an eye Neksus drew a sharp knife from the back of his jacket and held it up, above his forehead. With closed eyes he cantillated some sort of a prayer. As soon as he finished it, with a ravenous stroke Neksus slashed off his left wrist. He put his bloody arm over Ikspir's face such that the blood drops pooled on the latter's closed eyes.

Quite contrary to having an excruciating pain, Neksus' face was filled with relief! Ikspir was stil out cold owing to the massive blow with the bludgeoning weapon. With the swiftness of a mongoose, Neksus slit Ikspir's bot wrists like he did to his own. As a result of this bloody affair, the latter tried in vain to sit up only to find himself tethered to his own bed!

Ikspir could not believe his senses when he saw and felt his surroundings. His hands had become numb due to excessive blood loss. His eyes suddenly were gazed on Neksus' demoniac eyes. He felt Neksus was possessed - "Stop it Neksus please! What on earth are you doing?", yelling at the top of his voice. Neksus quietly looked at Ikspir's face - "Bye! May thy blood quench the thirst of many!" and he slit Ikspir's throat with the knife. Blood guzzled out of the throat as Neksus stared at it with a relieved face. The whole roome was red with blood and Ikspir's bed was soaking in it. Neksus stood still with blood dripping from his left arm and the knife held firmly in his right; his eyes locked into those of Ikspir, watching him writhing in pain and struggling to get free. With a massive volume of blood loss, Ikspir was becoming paler and ultimately after a very short period, he lay motionless. All this time Neksus did not move his eyes from those of Ikspir's!

All of a sudden a chill went down Neksus' spine and he was wondering why his left arm was paining! He felt as though he was having a dream, yet he saw his friend in that abominable state and his left wrist was unbearable. The only thing he remembered was that he was trying to get sleep in his own bed...

Last Days

Driving through this highway of no light,
Windscreen smothered with filth,
The mirror brings little respite
To see the lights flashing by.

Just enough to view the inside,
The flashlights are mere candles
In this road so dark,
The night so windy.
*

Walking through the tunnel so dark,
The bright light incinerating slowly.
The distance unfathomable,
The darkness unobliterable.

Innumerable known faces,
Groping through the memory,
Have all gathered together
To guide the soul to sanctity.

Obligations to fulfill,
Desires to meet,
The long lost ones
Awaiting impatiently to greet!



---- a person in his last days...

The Wingless Butterfly

Meandering through the silvery night
Your fatal attraction drawing me near,
Shaping the vague silhoutte
Enshrouding the misty cradle of my dreams;
Praying that never does
The opaque clouds veil you---
Oh! Enchanting Full Moon!
Oh! The irresistible goddess of the night!


Lost in the forest of desires
Flapping my path beside you,
The blind ones can see me
And the deaf hearing;
Not even the swans share
This ethereal road with us!


Like a bolt of thunder,
Paralysed by the excruciating pain
I see my predator vacillating above.
The futile efforts to fly away,
The somaesthesia of the tormenting grasp
I look up anticipating my death;
One last prayer for the patrician beauty,
One last sight of the indescribable moon!

Smoke of Life

Dense smoke from the chimney
Gushing out with life;
No air can subside it,
No wind can diffuse it;
Wanting to take up challenges
Notwithstanding the barriers ahead.


Trying to fulfill its ambition
Of rising high to be proclaimed
The Angel of Clouds;
Trying to shield itself
From the inevitable wind
Making it fade away.


The diffusing smoke
Surrendering to its destiny,
Fading away till no one to see,
Not a trace of it will remain,
Engulfed by the forces of nature,
Only its memories will remain
With the bird it choked in flight!



------ Here smoke depicts the life of a man. Emerging from the chimney (womb) it is exuberant and joyful in nature, ready to take the challenges (wind). The high ambitions a man sets himself as the 'Angel of Clouds'.. the smoke tries to touch the clouds, trying to touch the sky. But inevitable death can't be avoided and like a man, it slowly fades towards its death. The smoke fades away till unseen of.. like the body of a dead man... who has ceased to exist!!