That Night.

That night you came to see me. That night when I lay on the sanitized bed waiting to be cleansed. That night you happened to stare at my eyes. That night I saw a drop or two wet my blanket. That night I lay purged. That night you failed to understand... yet again!

I know...

I know you cried. I know you died. I know you revived. I know your tears have dried.

Drown yourself in grief. There is not much left to whatever is called 'life'.

Ghum!

Ghum parani gaan toh shonale onek... Ghum bhangate toh shekhale na!

Eye on I

Oh yes, cats. I hate cats. Polo tells me the cat comes by the kitchen window every morning. Sheli loves cats. Sheli is gone.

Where am I? I have a part of me living there with them. I see myself making breakfast every weekend, I see myself counting days till home-going, I see myself extending my leaves at the last moment, I see myself whispering in the night. He is gone, he never meant to stay. I was a fool. I still am.

I am back to the base, newly wed with desire. I have done away with inhibitions, I can kill.

Some people do not matter any more. Some have made me renew life's subscription. All the others need not bother, 'cos I don't.

I go back to the house every noon and night. I talk I cook, I love, I sleep... dreamless. There are memories left to kill. I remember now, Cathy loves cats too! Cathy is gone too.

I am surrounded by fire. Peace.

Aaargh! Marriages!

Was a witness to a marriage in the neighbourhood last night. My batch-mates are now going the sanctioned seven rounds and one can hardly ignore or escape the looks of 'you-are-the-next-in-the-row', I receive from everyone around me. I say I need time. People say do not drag it too long. I say what is 'too long'? People say you should do it in time. I say what is 'in time'?. People say you should not wait till you grow old. I say what is 'old'? My questions are never answered. I have orders to abide by.

I still have questions, my unresolved self refuses to give up. Who deliberately jumps into a pit of hell-fire? Who wishes to burn down one's self in false hopes of love?

The looks around me grow intense. I the outsider.

Gory Glory!

It was just another day.

She wrote to me. She knows you. She loved you. She died too.

Life in circles, halo-ed existence.

You move in circles, pasting unholy crimes upon muddy walls. You washed your hands.

The blood still flows.

I stand a spectator.

Destroyed, Dead, Resurrected, Relieved.

It is just another day.

A Neutral Take and an Earnest Prayer.

I get it. My direction needs to be decided, to be measured intricately, to be observed well and to be duly advised. If I take the left side, I will be accused of being too rigid to welcome change, if I stray into the other part, people will scream heritage, culture, tradition and bla bla. There are a thousand ways to make me decide; the newspapers try it everyday, the channels scare me to death and online communities and social networking sites now make me see red (and green). I am called selfish, dumb, ignorant, indifferent and choose any word you may, when I try and take a middle path. I am forced to do away with my neutrality and my massive hatred towards politics in general and politics in Bengal especially. To those who try to manipulate me and people like me, I feel like screaming out... I won't change. Restrict your issues with the very word in terms of the two political parties if you may, do not even spell it out near me. I instantly see red (and green). I may even bite.

You claim to be nation lovers, to be the thinkers of a flourishing Bengal. I have seen Bengal drowning under lethargy, bandhs, murders, corruption, uncouthness, and take your pick please. I have seen Bengal fall to a state of ridicule. Thirty five years of rule has left Bengal scarred. False promises of improvement now shall not help. Bengal has stopped believing in you.

You claim to be usherers of change (the word makes me sick), dreamers of a new Bengal. I have seen only mud-slinging in you, with no motive to think of the betterment of the state, but with every intention of coming to power by hook or by crook (crooks predominating). You have not done things very differently from your enemy, you are just the other face of the same coin. Adding glamour to your side will not dazzle us to blindness. Bengal sees through you. (Or so I hope).

This vote is a saga of favouritism, of pretentiousness, of fake promises, of contenders with hugest criminal records, of hatred, of thirst for power, of a bleak future, of a deteriorated Bengal, of political games in the name of education, of mud-slinging in the name of power, of murders in the name of accusations, of unwilling martyrs, of a corrupt state.

Leave me, and if I may say so, the likes of me alone. I love Bengal too much to believe in your falsities. Leave your manipulative comments to yourselves. Change or no change I do not see happy tidings anywhere near Bengal for years to come. All of you out there, who dance to your party colours, benefit by doing so. All of you have your motives in place. There is no idealism left in this charred state once heralded as one of the richest (in all possible ways) in India. Let me mourn the death of my Bengal in peace. Amen.