Someone Special

The man in overcoat walks with

Deep reverie in sunlinght

Doesn’t stop. Still walks

with  his shadow even in moonlight,

Never looks back

Never looks left

Never looks right

Neither looks up.

Only walks with his head down,

Grey in vain

Grey in joy

Grey in anguish

Might he be coy?

A figure which never speaks,

Never laughs, never cries

Never shouts,never sighs

Must be a creature

Of maleficent stature.

He still walks,

His feet producing a beat

That fades in and out

Out and in,yet moves in

Wearing his shadowy sheath.

Still They Ride



I’ve never been exhilarated by the thought of journeying on a train, I would’ve rather taken the road and hitchhiked.Though, all these thoughts wobbles inside my tiny mind before boarding the train.But for the first time as soon as I set my foot,I felt all my cynicism had wholly dissipated. I realised something, as soon as the train trudges starting from the first station to when it lands up at its’ final stop, you will find yourself to be a part of some captivating narrative.

Getting back ,my eyelids fell like faded worn out curtain and as sleep begins to engulf me, ready to sing its’ lullaby.I had anticipated the jeopardy ( no it isn’t that serious, as the word proclaims) but for a man who intends to get some sleep it is, serious. As I was about to lift my head I got kicked in the face real hard, that too by a babygirl.Ok fine,I understand it is okay to be a staunch feminist but I meant no harm.Probably it was some sort of sign from God maybe he was trying to revert to the corny “ No dozing” commandment. But ,I was relieved to find that they were finally gone.

Two middle aged Bengali ladies sat beside me and started their chit-chat and soon enough opened up to their private lives.Alright fine, I eavesdropped. But isn’t that life, where we can hear and eventually lick every single drop of each other’s emotion,and get away with it.Oh well, I guess folks might find this crap.Just had a random thought with a pinch of bullshit philosophy in it.There was this man who rigorously slapped his pot-belly,after a while got bored and thereafter got busy with his paratha and pickle, I couldn’t help but just made a quick glance at the food of course, but that man lifted his head from his food and looked at me. Oh boy,that was a stern look he gave.Yes we exchanged glances, not an intimate one.You say that when both have an equal chance of adoration.I withdrew  and thought to myself that, I am wiser than this man, it is likely that neither of us knows anything worthwhile, but he thinks he knows something when he does not.I won’t let that sort of delusion to ever happen to me.

Remember that baby girl,I spoke of a little while ago, yeah that ‘feminist’ one.Well guess what? … There she comes once again, with her mom and sits right in front of me.May be she’d missed her target and wanted to hit the bull’s-eye this time. A young  man barges into the compartment  that baffled everyone,and they stops what they were doing. The baby looks up at him, as well. He was one scrawny fella i tell you, who stood there motionless for a minute or so,and suddenly bursted forth, : “Hello, hello, hello?You want a divorce?..Congrats! You just earned yourself one !!!…”

And he left scoffing. Well, you gotta make few  indispensable decisions in life while you’re in motion, you can’t stop that’s the way it is, either you will be chased or you get to run.

“Hey can you hold my baby for a moment?” asked the mother.

“Sure.” I replied (Even though I didn’t want to).

The baby gave a smirk which seemed quite sardonic followed by a wink which was even more ironical.

Her mother said,

“Wow it seems, you’re really good with babies.”

I looked at her and gave a sly grin.Suddenly,I noticed the baby  had fallen asleep.

The banter has gotten soft,the chatter broke loose, and the commotion had almost waded away.I felt for the first time that someone had actually fallen asleep in my arms.I felt the anomalies of my vigorous youth and the moments like a ceaseless network of constellations trapped in space and time interwined in reality lacking the irrationality of a dream.

The train slows down, sixteen minutes from its last destination.Everyone gets ready to leave except the baby still in my arms,completely withdrawn from the world of deceit,cynicism,chicanery,scepticism etc etc etc.

You know,from the time the train plods out of the first station, and lands up at its final stop, you find yourself(like the baby) to be swaddled in with variegated objects of nature and not to be forgotten the ‘inscape’ – the individual distinction of every created natural object .I was lost,interwined to my thoughts in the most intimate way possible, my memories weaved a delineate chain of pictures ,and the winds outside wailed a dirge.

Lamentation of a wanderer


I tilted my head back and found the sky was all swirls of clouds and wind, furrowed brows, scalloped tides coming in, a crow on a totem pole, all of it wonder. Then, as if  beyond this realm I heard my thoughts, the trees around me rustled, and the ground began to shake.Was I inside a closet?..At times, I find it quite arduous to articulate my adoration towards the variegated objects of nature, amidst the brutality of the warmongers who have always had felt the need to wage a war.For what?

In the darkness,reflections of the scattered lights of the cities flickered every now and then.The river curled up the shimmering lights into springs,spread them across the placid pools and then sent them darting in my direction.I heard neither the song of birds nor the splash of fish; only the gentle rustle of leaves softening in the evening dampness.

Sometimes i  sense when things are in tune, a kind of dream-pace, but real life, present.A vision itinerary.

 I fell silent in the surreal ambience,listening to the autumnal hush of the warground.What sounds were awakening to life within me? What song was surging up in my heart? The mystery has yet to be divined; it does not lend itself to analysis, and won’t stand for prodding.

And there’s this one thing which I really learnt.Never disturb a person when he is silent.He may be deep in thought about himself or about all of us,he may be filled with compassion for the living and with grief for the dead.

And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence….