Infinitesimal being drunk with a starry void

2008-06-16T00:37:00.000-07:00

Paradise Won !

2008-05-28T00:07:00.000-07:00

Well...uhm.. this is not a tag!! but borrowed certainly.i stumbled upon a blog only to realize it was sim's and i saw something like this.cosmic twin has done it her way as always,when God made this person HE certainly was thinking of how to make people's day(s) and life alike.the li'l 'un made two months and two days apart captured such beautiful feelings in words it was too goddamn special, that post and like i said, that smile should be intact.

well,i've done it before too.written lame posts on sabrin and anne, my two musketeers; a poem for my godsent pal,the dickensian hercules,the modest yet on-your-face person(i can go on and on about her) who only knows me too well(and what's with fans and admirers?hmph!) but she couldn't locate it in this crowd of blogs:P

and there's somebody who has complained in not being included in the 'mutual admiration' part of it,by this end of this we'll be crooning other songs my musafir!

okay now to cut the long story short..i'll be doing the honours here actually.and the above lines was some sortof acknowledgement of another nature,also sort of apology for borrowing and the like. :D

and since i've made this so copybook ,the essence is lost.so i'll do it another day maybe :P

when we see cricketers choose between the best and the better than best,we have no regrets.we have no regrets that you gave up a sport to get your sisters married and the world didn't know the player in you.we don't regret there being no money in the sport then ,we don't feel bad in these ipl days.do you? don't! we love you.and we're so proud we got you.your the best thing that happened to us.and today that i get to sit within these pink walls and sit in front of a monitor and type on proudly is because you happened to us.we feel embarrased when you blast people on various topics from politics to sport,law,crime to common sense and we scold you for talkin too much but all the while we're so proud of you for all that you know and all that you are.i've inherited this gift of gab thingy from you and i can proudly say ''aami shei baba r meye je security r poroa na kore porer por shorkaari chakri chereche.'' and when the rest of the folks scolded their wards for going to college on a day of turmoil ,you made food for me coz the daughter was on sunfeast biscuit and tap water all day.you discovered your culinary abilities only for us or specifically me coz i couldn't do on staple dal-bhaat,much to ma's relief who feels guilty but has so much work on hand can't quite make up.you make each of us(the three of us) feel grand!and each time i dig into delicacies and you see my joy,you don't mind the sweatbath at any time of the day.you are no superman but quite so of sorts for the difference made not just to us but to the rest of the extended family as well.you don't read blogs but that's ok.i can go on about you but lets not bore others here.and thanks for never imposing your ideas on me.and its really funny how you think my 'taste in men' sucks:D

i love you .

(to be contd.)

2008-04-30T22:47:00.000-07:00

I really wish i were hay..yes i am as light as that but not quite

and i hate the geographical weather and also that of certain's people's minds.

get a life you guys! please.

2008-04-10T07:41:00.000-07:00

I love
how you toy
with words:
an insane
intoxicating jugglery
as maddening as
your skilful exhales
of cremated tobacco
their stale aftertaste
and
the lingering smoky odour
in the week old dust
of your shabby shirt.
I love how
you commonly handpick them
out of tea-stalls and
spent lights ,
out of a social circus
colourful and morbid
in parts
and a milieu of thoughts
myopic yer perceptive.
I love
the tide of emotions
that invade
the contours of
your mystical soul
and keep you
awake
and melt into
ink stained words,
I love
even more
the ones that die
silent deaths
only their impressions remain
in the corner
of your sleepy eyes,
the wouldhavebeens and
dead poetry.
I didn't say
I love you
I only love
what you do to
words
and what they do to you,
how they swim and stir
inside you.
Your reciprocal understanding
drives me
insane,
I want to
envy you
yet all I do
is love
not you,
but what you do to
words.

P.S. THIS BE BOKA-BOKA AND I BE FULLY AWARE
*SMILE*

2008-03-29T23:21:00.000-07:00

A mouthful of
sky,
a clout of
lambency,
and I,
washed off
the bold shades
of cosmetic brilliance
lay
on the dimpled shore
of the smiling beach,
stripped off
fast vanishing wonders,
clothed in the
nascent twilight
fast engulfing
the seascape.

2008-03-19T08:50:00.000-07:00

''deoal lekha gulo oi dari oala princi ta muchhte chaile bawal dish.''- outgoing g.sec(presidency college)

86/1, after three years I'll say the same thing to my juniors.Almost.Things of a similar nature perhaps.And you, you'll just flash valedictory smiles.

2008-03-19T08:04:00.000-07:00

Honey dipped

illusions

strawberry topped

dreams

and a papery edifice of

foolish pride

ripped off

the gently scrubbed

and meticulously

painted

eaves of

Time,

cut ripples

through

the core.

Distinct,circular

shapes

gaping wounds

and bleeding

membranic walls

of dilemma

diffuse

into the ringlets

of aged smoke

from the almost

dead

cigarette stub,

as periwinkles

smile in

crimson perplexity.

2008-03-18T22:13:00.000-07:00

The sky

was an alien

shade of

purple

the day they agreed.

A colour she

had often

tried to bring

out on the canvas

the colour that

lingered on her

mind

often,

now she wanted

to lick it up

sweet nothings.

She bathed in

curly

question marks

the gray ones,

carefully

washing away

the orange stains

that stuck like

paint.

She stood,

with her hair

fluttering

against

his silhouette

and could

feel

distinct half-moons

dropping

to her

stomach.

2008-03-07T06:43:00.000-08:00

Counting stars

on breezy

summer midnights

only to lose count

and start

all over again

I wonder

how celestial objects

become celestial beings,

with every moving hand of a clock

Souls,

escape out of bodies

rendering them

dead

and diffuse into

stars

awakening their radiance

in the dead

of the night.

counting circles

2008-03-07T06:38:00.000-08:00

Counting circles

on the trunk

of trees

now dead

I fail

to calculate

how many

years long

they had borne

lilac flowers.

Termite infested,

neat circles on

half-trunks

and dry

lilac petals

half-buried

leave

miniature betel shapes

on the dark wet earth.

It rained that day.

2008-03-03T07:38:00.000-08:00

It rained all day,
the day he died.
As his stiff
body
stone cold
lay in the courtyard
it poured
outside.

Didn't you fear the rains?
she wailed.
You wanted to
replace this
dilapitated mansion
with sleek apartments
where the rain only
just kisses your
window ledge
it no longer
floods
your bedroom
or gives your twins
swollen feet
from mosquito bites,
lousy insects those
breeding on stagnant
water.
You couldn't
but you
tried.
The rain washed
away
your death
too.

Did you really believe in
ageing gracefully?
I know not.
But you hated
hair dye.
You said it could give
you Cancer.
When I last spoke
to the doctor,
the day before
you died,
he spoke of leukaemia
I think...

contemplationandacknowledgement :)

2008-03-03T06:56:00.000-08:00

We all fear death,don't we?
Human nature.
Yet , we want to master the dying art.
Not all of us.Some of us.
Strange are the ways of man.
Cheers fagheads !!
This one is for you :)