The Darkest Hour

Give me wings,Lord
So that they would burn
And ashes would decorate
Your sky, living a black death
For the horns of morality
Have blown and long been silenced.

There are flag bearers in a world
Where ethics protect the unethical,
One of your worlds, dear Lord-
A network of pipelines of mistrust.

But a few can hear the cold sirens
The gift, you bestowed them with
So that you could be summoned;
So as the courtrooms turn into pyres
A call sets out in your search,
The darkest hour weighs heavy on us.

Uttam- Madhyam?

Sedin Poltu dar bari te adda besh jome uthechilo. Anyo weekend er tulonay attendance beshii chilo- Ami, Amit, Rajeeb da, Subhadeep, Nirmal r sayang Poltu da.  Cha r cigarette er dhoyar majhkhane ki bhabe Satyajit Ray chole elen thik kheyal nei. Ami r Rajeeb da amader chatro der niye ki ekta alochona korchilam, hothat dekhi Nirmal chnechiye Subha ke bolche, "Rakh tor Mrinal Sen! Byatar antlamor camouflage chara kissu nei." Subha o temni uttejito hoye swabhab krome hat chure hnak dilo," Bal bujhis tui! Dekhechis ektao cinema or?"
Poltu da ektu bhoye bhoye bole uthlo, "aha! tora jhogra korchis kano? esob niye torko ki ar amader manay? " tarpor ektu heshe, "Para mathay tulbi mone hocche."
Nirmal hnapate hnapate bollo, "Dekhun to Poltu da, kono mane hoy? Maal ta boleche Nayak e naki Uttam Kumar ke cast kora Satyajit er bhul! Boro bal! Nije baniyeche oi stature er ektao chobi?"
Plotu da abar ektu heshe bollo, " tumi to ektao cinema dekhoni Sen er. Na dekhe ki kore bichaar korcho?"
Subha bijoyeer moto bole uthlo,  "setai to! Tachara ami bujhi na manush nijer mot debe ki anyer mot bhebe?"
Ami chaye chumuk diye Nirmal kei jiggesh korlam, "Byapar ta ki bol to? Hothat filmalochona? tao abar Mrinal- Manik?"
Nirmal notun ekta cigarette dhoriye bollo, "Interview beriyeche patrikay! Babur kichu ukti khubi biroktikor. Eke to boleche Uttam Kumar khete khaoa r Soumitro beshi talented. Sathe montobyo je Nayak e Uttam er choice ta Satyajit kano korlo o bojheni. Bujhle to byata tui i Nayak banati."
Amit moja nicchilo. Ebar ektu khnochalo, "Hya re Nirmal tui bujhechis naki kano Uttam ke niyechilo?"
Nirmal byango ta bujheo uttejona atkate parlo na, "Albat! R keu chilo naki oi role ta korar moto!"
Rajeeb da bhaloi bujhte parchilen sobai Nirmal ke chepe dhorche. Uni borabor i Nirmal ke sneho koren. (ekbar bolechilen, "Nirmal er parts ache. Abeg ache, dhoirjo nei. Tobe sesob kotojoner i ba ache ajkal?").
Rajeeb da guni manush. Katha bollei bojha jay. Jemon physics e dokhol, temni cinema, boi, gan, natok e.
Shei muhurte equlibrium feranor janyo takei proyojon chilo. Uni Poltu da ke bollen, "Hya re Poltu mone ache ekbar baba r kaku o ei eki torke mete uthechilen. Sudhu bodhoi hata hati baki chilo."
Poltu abar mridu hasi niye bollen, "tokhon theke oi ghotonai to bhebe jacchi! ki tumul jhogra! Mash dui kathao boleni tarpor."
Rajeeb da fnaka chayer cup ta table e rakhte rakhte bollen, "etai Bangali der samasya bujhecho! Arts er torke keu harte pochondo kore na. Hoy ei torko gulo marpit e sesh hoy noyto ek pakhyo emon byango kore kichu katha bole je apor pakhya shei level ta chute pare na bole chup kore jay."
Subha ektu birokti sohokare bollo, "Accha Rajeeb da, ekjon manush tar nijer views diyechen. Freedom of speech! Keu to kauke mante badhyo korche na. Derogatory comment to na korleo chole."
Nirmal sathe sathe bole, "Intellectual bhabeo derogatory hoa jay! Mrinal Sen shetai korechen."
Rajeeb da chair ta tene tate aram kore boshen. Tarpor Nirmal r Subhar dike takiye bolen, "Kathar anek mane hoy Nirmal. Hoyto tomar mane thik ba hoyto adou tini bujhte paren ni. Uni shei interview tei Mithun Chakravarty keo ashadharon abineta bolechen. Boltei paren. Kintu sekhanei abar Utaam Kumar ke khete-khaoa bolechen. Ete uttejito hoar kichui nei. Sob manusher i bias thake. Tobe Soumitra je 2 lakhyo taka peyeche bole ekta award function e gechilo eta disclose na korleo parten. Boyesh hoyeche to. Ekdin amadero hobe."
Ami Rajeeb da ke prosno na kore parlam na, "Nayak e ki ar kaukei manato? Hya hoyto amar samne ekta image ache tai bujhte parchi na. Kintu setai to Uttam Kumar er credit! He made it his own!"
Rajeeb da haste haste matha nere uttor dilen, "dekho, shei samay keu parto ki na ta to amra janbo na. Jini janten tini baniyechilen. Chobi ta jar mathay eshechilo shei to protagonist ke chinbe! Aj keu Soumitra ke Felu dar janyo fit na bolle ki sheta mana shambhab? Jini likhechilen uni i to chinhito korechen actor ke! Otoeb eshob katha torko i koray. kono direction day bole mone hoyna."
Hothat excited hoye chair theke uthe bollen, "Ei to Boudi! Arek cup cha khaoan na!"
Sreetama di halka heshe bollen, "asche. Ektu age ja shuru korechilen apnara! Mone hocchilo mathay chatt bhenge porbe!"
Rajeeb da ekta cigarette ber korte korte bollen, " Boudi, apnar matha fatay kar saddhi? Cholun cha ta niye ashi niche theke."

The invisible projection

I love your legs more than your eyes

But I dream of your eyes nevertheless

Hot legs, long legs, waxed and shiny-

Who has the time to look at anything else?

I have decided to push the line of vulgarity

I refuse to accept the rules imposed on beauty

I dare ask you to reveal a little more of yourself

Let out what’s hidden, what’s being suffocated!

I would prefer to be blunt and

Give my imaginations a break

If the dress doesn’t seem to fit

It would only a few more retakes.

Worshiping the brilliance of man

One finds you in every aspect :

Each inspiration, each central pillar

Proves your worth, your presence!

"Vision planted in his head, still remains!"

The famous writers (can't use their names to publicize my words) are not my role-models. So, I don't give a shit about lecturing on principles, duties or ways of life. I write to bring out my frustrations- about women, men, men with women, women with men, the notion of love, the practice of hate- more or less anything that is pro/anti-life.
There is a world that I see, with my eyes. My vision makes me talk and my voice creates your noise.
I'm the actual guilty and I seek forgiveness for your sins those you're unaware of.
Okay, that's it. 
Anyway, there is a purpose for this post. Let me, then switch to my world.
The purpose is to blast a comment (made by a revered Film-maker on a Film-star).
What have I done in my life? How much of the language of films do I understand? Well, yes, the answer to both the questions is probably "nothing".
I might just not understand your language but I do understand your bias. I haven't seen your films, so I can't comment on them.
But there is one other film maker whom I never dare question. There is a film of his I never dare raise a finger at. .. And the film stars a man, who blessed the Bengali film industry with his presence.
Your statement that he lacked intellectual depth makes me question your depth as a film-maker.  I find it blasphemous even that you said he shouldn't have been cast in a specific role, which by far was his best performance!
At the end of the interview, you said that you wonder what people's reaction would be to your films and you when you won't be here. I ask you Sir, why does it matter? Why does it matter what people say even now? They might praise you, disagree with you, but is it more important than your own world that you have created for all this time?

"But my words, like silent raindrops fell "

Yes, Sir, there is the Sound of Silence. You should start searching from now on.

## Okay, readers! Thank you for being with my article till now. No, I am not going to reveal any name. But since you gave your valuable time to my words, you need to be awarded.
Here's your present :

The poem below.

Artist

Who's an artist?
Is he a soul lost
In a desert of name and fame?
Or is he a mortal
Who rides his dreams
And ends up at the shore of shame?

Do the tides push him away?
Or does he swear at them
Like he swears at everyone
For he is too afraid to speak
To himself, with or without
The mirror that projects him alone.

What is his addiction
That eats him apart
And leaves his skin for the vultures?
What does he seek
While he gives up arrogance?
A vigilante, of his own burning emotions!

What will they understand
Of the fire that burns underneath
The layers of a few special skins?
What does he seek
As he carries on his endless quest
That keeps faking the mirage of peace?

The ink says he's an enigma
Who doesn't know either
The beginning or end;
The pencil says he's a reality
Not deep enough to stay and
The wind might just erase him away.

An affair of Eyes and Words..

Where your words end
To greet their paradise
My silence paints itself
For a brush of your sky.

They sing about words,
Words which build our worlds
Sewed together by mysterious 
Voice flowing through those eyes.

Greeted by silence, the sense
Loses meaning somewhere within
Emotions get shipped in a haste
Moments, born get  forever etched.

## The lines were inspired by the song, Lafzon (Film: Inkaaar).

## The next lines are inspired by someone capable of inspiring.

What are my words,
If they don't end on your eyes?
The sound of your silent smile
Resides deep inside this mind
And thus starts a soothing fission
Of alphabets burning with pride.

May I fall in love again,
For my words to have meanings
May I rise through this darkness
For my words to cure longings
May I reach you in this life or next
With words, my only belongings.

Ke Kobi?

Ami tor moto likhte parlam na kokhono
Tui bhebe likhish ar ami likhe bhabi
Purono lekha gulo porar jagyo mone hoyna
Toke choya e jiboner apurno icche matro.

Anyer lekhao tui bhalo bujhis bodhoi
Amar to sudhu bhalo laga, na laga
Koto swabder reflection toke bhalobashe
Amar samne sudhu tukro akkhor bhase.

Tui khatar kono ek kone swabdo jomas
Khub kom manush ta dekhe r hoyto bojhe
Tara tokeo bhalobashe, tor swabdo keo
Tuii kobi, ami noi, hoteo parbo na kokhono.

The Unseen Colours

Feathers burn in your golden rays
They would have favoured winter
But outnumbered they always were,
Wishes of a certain minority suffer.

Few singers wait for a flute player
There are banyan trees still present,
Shade for shades, for decades over
Till western wind regains its flavour.

Clouds spread wings like a blanket
As the lost eyes look up in surrender
Yes, there are so many unseen colours
Incapable of processing these brains are.

Identify Me.

And the wind blows along the desert

As the evening dawns over the sands,

The golden sands of a history that remains

Buried deep somewhere, guarded by itself.

Don’t you dare try an excavation on me

For you’re ignorant of what you don’t see!

I have layers of truth and lies intertwined

I’m a living safe, safer than you can imagine.

I am an immortal along the shores of mortality

I hunt down crows if the world needs to be dirty

I make rules, you implement them without mercy

I roam around time and space, you call me Money!

They lose focus, spill blood and blame it on me

But I don’t care since I always possess the key

I feed on your birth, death summer and spring

I control my life from deep within your greed.