Liberation

There's something behind the bush
Something cold, dark and sharp
The cold north wind has come back to town
To haunt a few, to pay forgotten dues.
A boy waits for the bus as a predator stalks
The Grim shoots a glance towards the clock.

The guitar jumps to the sharpest tunes
Ripples come alive in a near-by pond
Cigarette burns between locked  fingers
As letters burn to wash away the past
A distant song about an unknown Hotel
Swims through the senses deep into the blood.

The knocks get a little louder on the door
Pen and paper make love once more
Desires loop out into yet another nothingness
An embryo forms in the womb of the Goddess.
Water breaks on the universe, here comes the rain
No matter how many days you live, live without shame.

Kolkata, A lover's Tale.

Kolkata. A city. An entity. A culture. A song. A romance. A graveyard.

Being my mother's home, Kolkata was the fairytale city of my childhood. Even though I never had the typical Bengali Kolkata-prem, my destiny has always sent me spiralling into the chaos of this city. Be it the choice of St. Xavier's or my PhD life, Kolkata unfortunately will bear the stamp of my gain and loss, more loss than gain.
A school friend once said, "Kolkata kills ambition!" How vehemently I had disagreed with him at that time! I must say this guy was well ahead of his time. Kolkata slow poisons its prisoners and does so beautifully. It gives you hope, provides you with a ladder, even allows you to throw the dice but it never shows the snakes on the board! You can be this close to victory and yet so far.
The funny part is that you cannot blame anything else but yourself.
This is the city that gave me freedom and snatched it away . I find it amusing how Kolkata lets you breathe, yet chokes you at its will. This city gave me a friend for life only to slowly reveal chinks in the friendship armour!

At times, when I've felt defeated, this is the city that took me in her shelter and gave me new hopes! Yes, Kolkata has shown me life like nothing else. She has been a mirror, reflecting the inner turmoil as well as the light that lies buried inside. For all my disturbances, she has always drenched me with the western wind. She has shown me the Sun breaking the veils of darkness and she has led me to darkness when I had wanted time to stop.

I have lived in her glory, smiled with her when change set sails on her banks. I feel helpless today as the wind reverses its direction. I want to stand right up against the wind and claim her for me. But she never was mine to protect. She belongs to the history books. Writers will load College Street with stories of her desires, lovers will pack shelves with collections of her pictures. She doesn't need to pose, my Tilottoma. At least, in my world of words, do I get to call her mine. If I were the phoenix, she would be my fire and my hopes, the ashes.

I am just another admirer, like thousands before and after me. I wish I were one of those blessed ones who actually had something to give to this city.

Someday, my dear safe house, I hope you know there lived a guy who loved you.

The day he turned Fifty : Part I

Year : 2039
Date : x/1/39

The alarm gave a violent kick to the beautiful morning dreams of Neel. He slowly pushed open his sleep deprived eyes to check the watch. Yes,  5:30...time to wake up.
There was one trait Neel had acquired from his father- sleeping late. But he knew well enough that Dad will be enjoying a sound sleep at this hour. Neel smiled to himself. He had so many things in common with his father...love for parents being the primary one.
At seventeen, Neel was matured for his age. The main reason for this would be his father, again. It had always been his father's priority that Neel understood from an early age how the world functions , something he wished that he himself had.
Neel had been a bright boy since childhood. Being good both in sports and studies, he was a favourite among most in school. But it was his understanding of social issues that made him the star in his father's eyes. This was a father-son relationship that bordered on friendship but dived deep into protectiveness, a fact Neel understood all too well.

Today his father turns Fifty. Neel left his bed and ignoring the cold walked steadily to the cupboard. He was still feeling a little unsure about what he was about to do. Was he stretching it too far? But the boundaries were never sharp enough! He opened the cupboard and carefully took out an old diary. On the top right hand side was inscribed, Diary 2014.

Neel has always known his father as a passionate person even though his father keeps mewling over exactly the opposite. He had asked his father numerous times to hold the pen again but the only response was that the passion wasn't there anymore. Yet on enquiring on what made him give up writing his father would maintain silence. At times he would read out his favourite pieces to his son but wouldn't write anything new. His father, somehow was lost in the past. To Neel this veil was an injustice to his mother. When accidentally Neel found this diary, he was so overwhelmed that he thought it best to keep quiet. But how could he? This was a chapter in his father's life which had had the most significant impact.  
Twenty five years ago, a different man existed - a boy more than a man, yet a man, nonetheless.

Neel flipped through the pages and finally made up his mind. The clock showed 6:15. He hurried out of his room and ran into his parents' whose doors were always kept wide open for Neel to sneak in anytime, he wished. He saw his parents conversing softly, as his mother's palm circled on his father's chest. They love each other. Am I doing the right thing? Should I really be demanding answers? But why not? If they have love for each other, shouldn't everything be out in the open? Dad loves the past. Neither me nor Ma will judge him, ever. He can and he should be free! Neel knocked on the door with the diary in his hands and smile on his lips.

Sujay and Anuradha looked up brightly at their son's smiling face. Here comes the boy to wish his father. Oh! there's the diary. His parents looked at each other and Sujay spoke first, 'Come here, son.'
Neel : Happy Birthday, Dad!
He handed the diary over to his father and said, 'Is she the woman of your life, then?'
Anuradha who was messing with her boy's hair let out a chuckle. Then she turned towards Sujay, "Ebar bojha chele ke! Nije pakiyechis."
Sujay took the diary from Neel and smiled effortlessly, "Afterlife."