Mother [incomplete]

I was born out of my mother’s tear
Not out of her womb
Born into a waiting ward
Where everyone awaits a train
That will take them back home.

My grandmother watched my mother’s labor pains
And rejoiced!
She was obstinate that I should be born in that very house
Maybe I might have been freed within her womb
But for the intervention of an elder sister of my mother.

I was born in a hospital.

The doctor who brought me into this world too was pregnant.
She gave birth to a daughter a week later.
I know what happened to her.
For I know what happened to me.

I know what happened to my mother.
I know what happened to us.
I know nothing happened.
And yet…

She brought me into this world and meted out what her mother had meted out to her.
We are all abettors of death. Each other’s deaths.
We rejoice at birth knowing that here is one more that has to live in this world.
We rejoice at the tribulations to be faced.
We rejoice at all the desires that will swallow him.
We rejoice –“ Ok, so we are not alone in this misery!!”

What does a child know?
Memory is yet to be installed.

There is always one foolish sperm that gets left behind.
A sperm that is born into an illusory world.
A sperm that believes there is more light in that outside world than inside.
We are all but nothing more than an overgrown sperm who believes that there is a bigger universe out there.

What is naked to the eye is the veil that shrouds the truth.


I was reared in the womb of melancholy.
I reared myself in a world of melancholy.
All that is beautiful in me is my pain.
My pain is my strength.

I accept all the gifts of sorrow with grace and gratitude
For what am I minus my pain?
All my happiness come from it
For I have accepted God as “Sorrow”.

The sorrow from which we all run from
The sorrow we want to avoid at all cost
The sorrow we turn a blind eye to
That sorrow is Him.

For He knows it’s the last thing we will ever want in our lives.

There is no Holy Grail but the tears of one’s own soul.
He who has the courage to drink it is welcome to God’s Kingdom.

The true prayer is the music in your breath
The only word is the silence between one’s heartbeat
You are the mother of your parents
Like you would be the son of your own child.

I was born in the womb of my daughter.
I was born from the sperm of my son.
I was born before my death
I was dead before I was born.

I was born before my birth
Like I was dead before my death
I was alive in my death
Like I was dead when I was alive.

What is a lifetime if not the interval between two breaths?
And if there is a God then we are all immortals.

12th March-one liners

1- children are god's true angels.growing up is "clipping the wings".

2- i ve moved on & yet find myself within her realm.love's a merry-go-round!she returns once you move on.she departs when you are ashore :-)

3- growing older simply means gathering more memories.when there is more to look back than to look forward to.

4- twinkle twinkle little star...how i wonder where you are??? i look up at the silent sky and heave a deep soulful sigh!!!

5- reconnecting with my childhood.again.that's the only way i can keep my sanity in this adult world.

A Birthday Present on Woman's Day

A Birthday Present-Sylvia Plath

What is this, behind this veil, is it ugly, is it beautiful?
It is shimmering, has it breasts, has it edges?

I am sure it is unique, I am sure it is what I want.
When I am quiet at my cooking I feel it looking, I feel it thinking

'Is this the one I am too appear for,
Is this the elect one, the one with black eye-pits and a scar?

Measuring the flour, cutting off the surplus,
Adhering to rules, to rules, to rules.

Is this the one for the annunciation?
My god, what a laugh!'

But it shimmers, it does not stop, and I think it wants me.
I would not mind if it were bones, or a pearl button.

I do not want much of a present, anyway, this year.
After all I am alive only by accident.

I would have killed myself gladly that time any possible way.
Now there are these veils, shimmering like curtains,

The diaphanous satins of a January window
White as babies' bedding and glittering with dead breath. O ivory!

It must be a tusk there, a ghost column.
Can you not see I do not mind what it is.

Can you not give it to me?
Do not be ashamed--I do not mind if it is small.

Do not be mean, I am ready for enormity.
Let us sit down to it, one on either side, admiring the gleam,

The glaze, the mirrory variety of it.
Let us eat our last supper at it, like a hospital plate.

I know why you will not give it to me,
You are terrified

The world will go up in a shriek, and your head with it,
Bossed, brazen, an antique shield,

A marvel to your great-grandchildren.
Do not be afraid, it is not so.

I will only take it and go aside quietly.
You will not even hear me opening it, no paper crackle,

No falling ribbons, no scream at the end.
I do not think you credit me with this discretion.

If you only knew how the veils were killing my days.
To you they are only transparencies, clear air.

But my god, the clouds are like cotton.
Armies of them. They are carbon monoxide.

Sweetly, sweetly I breathe in,
Filling my veins with invisibles, with the million

Probable motes that tick the years off my life.
You are silver-suited for the occasion. O adding machine-----

Is it impossible for you to let something go and have it go whole?
Must you stamp each piece purple,

Must you kill what you can?
There is one thing I want today, and only you can give it to me.

It stands at my window, big as the sky.
It breathes from my sheets, the cold dead center

Where split lives congeal and stiffen to history.
Let it not come by the mail, finger by finger.

Let it not come by word of mouth, I should be sixty
By the time the whole of it was delivered, and to numb to use it.

Only let down the veil, the veil, the veil.
If it were death

I would admire the deep gravity of it, its timeless eyes.
I would know you were serious.

There would be a nobility then, there would be a birthday.
And the knife not carve, but enter

Pure and clean as the cry of a baby,
And the universe slide from my side.

Tagore & I

Finally found the lyrics to the first ever rabindrageet i learned. yesterday. some guy called Chatterji[i don't remember his first name] taught me the song in his out of tune voice. he was just a guy in my class, not a friend. or maybe he was. in retrospect everyone seems to have been one. in one way or the other.

there was this bong girl in my college i was infatuated with.and it was to "patao"[woo] this girl that i decided to learn a bangla song. the best way to get to a woman's heart, i had learned by then, was through her ears!!

well, i did accomplish what i set out for. and today she is married with three kids & settled. her husband i hear is a naval officer.

am still single. but thanks to her i fell in love with rabindra sangeet.

and here is the lyrics of the song i have never heard but in my own voice.

ektuku chowa lage
ektuku kotha shuni
tai diye mone mone...
rochimomo falguni

ektuku chowa lage
ektuku kotha shuni

kichu polasher nesha
kichu ba chapai mesha
tai diye shure shure
ronge rashi jaal buni
rochimomo falguni...

ektuku chowa lage
ektuku kotha shuni

jetuku kachete ashi khoniker fake fake
chokito moner kone shoponer chobi ake
jetuku jaire dure bhabna kapai shure
tai niye jai bela nupurero taal buni
rochimomo falguni...

ektuku chowa lage
ektuku kotha shuni
tai diye mone mone rochimomo falguni

ektuku chowa lage
ektuku kotha shuni

In love I learn.

4th October text on mobile

Is that the rain gods r having a blast on her bday or is this the echo of my yearning heart?
A mere whisper of her name can fill up an ocean of sound.
Her memory shines brighter than the brightest star!
Tonight either my loneliness will kill me
Or I will die of happiness 

More Thoughts

Thank God for my insanity  or else I would have been a dead man by now!
Thank God for the betrayals for I learned to love through them!
Thank God I understand His mother tongue 
A silence that resonates with in the length of every breath!
And thank God that we all die to be born again 
Thank God for my forgetfulness so all that my soul remembers is Him!
Thank God for making me live in hell so that I learn to value my inherent goodness!
