Friday, September 13, 2013

Kingstork - Goa 6th July 2013

A handful of breeze whispered
And posted me about you.
You must be now amused with your soulful dreams;
Or must have stretched your both hands,
To fondle the golden rays of early sun
From our confused and messed up balcony.
The balcony where the white and grey pigeon 
Plays with her own dusky feather.
I am not doing anything like this.
Goa 6th July - why do I feel a less of everything in Goa this time –
The sand being dark like the remote clouds
Cuddled in anticipation but to burst.
Why do I feel that the waves do not intend to welcome me?
The sea has always been a witness
Of your fascination towards her
(She is yet to know your steady dislike)
Is it that the waves in Goa usually sense people
Who come with a heavy half heart?
Or maybe she is just teasing me;
So that I keep roaming around 
with the same damp and heavy heart.
Tonight it’s going to be a heavy rainfall in Goa and
I plan to get drenched.
Who knows, the rain drops might bring some news 
about you 
like the handful of breeze.

Monday, December 24, 2012

I Plan to Steal a Guitar Tomorrow


Tomorrow, I plan to steal a guitar
From a nearby musical store.
I will pet this guitar like a
Fish, a cat or a parrot.
When the strings of the guitar grow like those unruly hairs,
I will trim them off with lot of warmth.
With a comb, I will make them look tidy.

The day when my guitar gets a bad throat
Will feed him warm water
And will let him do gargle regularly.

I have also crafted a wooden bed for him
Where I have designs of human…a lot of beautiful human

I am still thinking what would he like to have for his meal?
Chicken or something vegetarian?
Some seafood or just some cola.
I somehow feel, if he gets an ice cream,
I will see a smile of a rainbow on his face.
So I am going to steal a guitar tomorrow.
Please come tomorrow to meet my new guest.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

The Squirrel

I see a squirrel in my balcony.
It’s been couple of days -
He comes and peeps through my window.
He is not exactly black-
Neither brown nor maroon.
He is more like the dusk -
The dusk that reminds me of your hair,
The onset of the darkness is exactly the color of the squirrel.
Its eyes has the moist color-
Though it’s very milky
I prefer calling it cloudy-
The white clear ones but
Stores a tempest beneath.
I realize we are bonded with a mutual thought.
An unknown relationship but a strong stream of consciousness.

It rained heavily yesterday and
I see a clear sky since then.
The rain has stormed in my balcony and I don’t see the squirrel today.
The rain drops touched my arms today and I feel my wings in the air.

Friday, November 18, 2011

Today, When I was Coming Back

Today, when I left you and was coming back
As if all the music tumbled down the way.
The blanket of the dawn looks even moister today.


The story of the road
Where I lost my music once,
I told it to myself today.
Alas! You were not there to
Blow away the story with a smile.


What should I name this feeling of
You, not being with me -
The gloomy cloud or
The chaotic wind.
John Donne's poetry
Or Nilim da's nap.


My wheels want to break free today
Like a nomad, they wander.
Looks like the most musical poetry
Tumbles down the hill today.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

The Old Wooden Bed

Those were the days gone by
You used to sleep together with her.
Let father brings you the a talking toy
Or some dark chocolate .
But you use to come near
Her breast every night.

Those were the days
When your thin lips
Suck the nipple of her breast
With the eagerness of some milk.
You don’t let her sleep peacefully.
Every night you had a sensational
Touch of a women.


Today again you get lost in the sensuous scent of a women.
You love to get lost in the ups and down of her body.
You still kiss her countless
You still don’t let her sleep peacefully.


The age and time has transformed you
From the inner core of her heart
To her inner breast
 
What is still the same is Me
I am the witness of your desire.
I am that age long, stable
Old Wooden Bed.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Tumi Shramik Hoiu Premik

Rabha jodi mur kalam hoi
tenehole mur kolome okol
Premor kobita kiyo likhe

Rabha, monot pore ne tumar xai
stationor platform, PWDr rastar
Sharamikor tambut kotuwa raati.

Priyobalak heruwai tumi ghuri phura
Xei rasta aaru stationot paamne atiya
Tumar pododhuli bisari?

Rabha tumi biplobi
Janatar ashru jodi tumar ashru hoi,
tenehole Pitri hridoy tumi kot heruwala?

Moi bhabu-
Axonkhyo janatar jodi tumi hendali,
Tumar hendali kot?

Rabha, tumak aaji paam kot?
Civilor xonmukhot tukari bai thoka
Bhikharituk tukarile
Pam ne Rabha tumak?
Ne mur Preyokhir hridoyot
Thakibo para tumi?

Tumi Bordoisila hoi porojonomot
Tumi premik hoi, pitri hoi xubhologonot
Kora puron Jonotar opurno aaxa!

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

FullStop

I don’t feel any tears in my eyes today,
I roam around and it’s a tasteless feeling.
Today I can see the green leaves
I created, turning into white.

This time the winter is severe,
It cuts like a sharp edge through my skin.
I thought I will get you a pair of socks
Before the winter sets in
If not a woolen one, may be a thick one,
the one you liked last time.

If I would have ever knew that ,
The dampness of the winter
Will turn into a tempest ,
I would have got you the pair of socks long back.

Today I still don’t feel any dampness in my eyes
I stare at my odorless paints and I get a vibe
Will it have the fragrance again?

Sunday, November 14, 2010

A Beginning


Today, feels like green everywhere.
The earth looks tender
Like the gentle breeze from Laban,
And my mind feels the freshness
Of the slow moving stream from the uphill.
Today, feels like tuberose
About to blossom in all the corners of my heart.
And the smiling Eucalyptus tree is flying across
The patches of blue clouds.

Today, this life's new meadow just need
Few pocket full of raindrops…
Wish you be some rain, be some cloud and some rainbow
And shower your blessings for our new life

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Today When I Drop You Home

If today all the green leaves would have been green forever
If the dry earth would have been still raw even after the heart full rain,
When I peep through my motorcycle mirror
Why do I see the trees, the leaves, the clouds pass by so fast
Today why my shirt gets dried up instantly
Soon after a bucket full of rain.
The crystal clear clouds embrace me and
I slip into her ups and downs.
I feel a sweet pinch just close to my heart.
Today when I drop you home
I want the glaciers close to Sun,
Stop melting for pocket full of time

Monday, November 2, 2009

I lost My Mirror


Last week I bought a mirror for my motor cycle
It looks like an attentive ear of a rabbit
A rabbit whose color is white-
White like yesterday's dawn.

Now a days I see a lot of dreams through this mirror
A herd of elephant and a big snake -
Usually with lots of shades,
patches of violet and white
Sometimes few clouds and
sometimes few Sounds of excitement.
Sometimes I also see different colors
Black, white, green and yellow
But I have never seen red

Since last two days I am not able to find my mirror.
Somebody has stolen it,
When I parked it in that usual
Corner near Java City.

Today, when I ride
I lean and try to find the mirror
Just a hope that it will come back.
And again today if those dark clouds rain
Will hold one raindrop in my palm
And will ask -Oh Raindrop! Do you see my tear drop?
Will I be able to see her face
In my mirror today again?

BURDEN by Shobha Goswami

One of Shobha Goswami's finest paintings that I am so impressed with that at the first glance I could not resist myself linking it to my blog. She is one of the finest painters in the contemporary times and who is highly inspired by Nature's beauty. To know more about her works please click NISARGA Art Prints

my room

In one of the rooms of mine he studies,in another one he takes his meal, in one of them he sings ,sleeps in the other. He rents all the four rooms of my heart He is none but sorrow. - Nilim Kumar

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