A bouqet of love in its raw nakedness.
A couplet of poetry  and familiar songs.
And as life grips with its gnawing idleness.
I convey all my loving to you.
Just as the the afire sky conveys it's hopes of rain on a sunny day.
To the unknown lover.

To The City That Provides Euphoria

My entourage with the city I am awestruck with, is some 17 years old.

Though it feels like a lifetime of indebtedness.Now that I no more reside here permanently,hence I have frequent nostalgic attacks every time I walk past the streets of Calcutta. Every para and every goli known and unknown hollers out songs of familiarity everytime I walk past them.And every phuchkawala reminds me of the phuchka dadu who was the alltime hero outside school.Everytime I see the self-proclaimed madman  howling out names of stoppages from a multicoloured bus, it gives me a queer feeling of familiarity.Be it a random Bangla hoarding, or a random Moheen song, or a random old face i haven't seen for long,or the obscenely huge pillars of Prinsep Ghat, I feel happy.Yes.Anything about the city provides euphoria to every fibre of my being.

This piece of shit may be of no importance to people who have for nothingto do with Calcutta, but nevermind.

A Lost And Found One

The Fifth Wall

The four walls that stopped speaking

Ages ago since the last making

The four walls that died.Since the collied night has ever cried.

Yes, the four walls.

That keep searching for the fifth wall.

And in vein do they keep growing tall.

Of bends and bows, and rise and fall;

Of numerous makings of love and all.

Yes, the four walls that kept growing tall.

In search of another fifth wall.

Whatever

Now that i've spent half my life wasting last pages of almost every goddamn notebook, i decide to waste some bandwidth.
And hence, the blog.