Cheers, To Kolkata.

"You don’t realize what you have till you lose it."

They’re not memories and it’s not like I just realized something new. But its there on every face, on every street corner and every mirror. I just started to get to know you, to really appreciate what you really are, the depth, and the urge to understand you. I’ve taken you for granted for eighteen years now, and I really just want to be your friend, someone who understands your jokes with, just a glance. I wanted to walk down every lane, discover your secrets and live to tell the tale. Stories etched into bricks the lives that you shelter. I shall definitely miss you. Goodbye.

Two years old. A rooftop. Blue tricycle and me. Under your watchful eye I rode my tricycle and fell, so many times over, I’ll never forget. It was from your streets I met my first friend, a silhouette in a dark lane, I forget his name and his face but I’ll never forget you. A guava seller used to sit opposite the front door. He doesn’t remember me but he still sits there, in the same place, with guavas, under your watchful eye. A window, grills. Cars, so many cars, I’ve lost count, but I hadn’t that day. I don’t know who you are man in the blue Maruti 800 but I counted you as well. I spent a year staring at ‘Birla Mandir’ but I’ve never been inside. Footpaths, lanes, streets, roads so many I forget the names, forget me not.

Three. I started school that year. First school friend, I don’t remember his name where he lived or his face. He had a green Maruti 800. He sat in that car and drove away forever. We’ve grown up for too long, goodbye. I moved from Ballygaunge to Alipore. So much, so long ago. Trees and gardens everywhere. But there was never a field. I’ll miss the roads the gardens the trees the mangoes and the ditch in the back where I’d caught so many tadpoles, every year.
"Looking back on boyhood years.
Even unhappiness acquired a certain glow."

Tree on the divider I don’t know you more than as a tree. I’ll miss you. I would like to know your name in three different languages one day but I guess that’ll have to wait. Face in the crowd. You could have been my best friend, my brother or my lover but I’ll never know you more than a face and I shall miss you too. Goodbye.

Wish list.

Every year I make a wish list.
It used to have toys on which I’d insist,
But it’s changed through the years,
Now full of my dreams, desires and fears.

I wish I didn't always shout,
I wish I knew what I talked about.
I wish I didn't have to apologize so many times,
I wish I could win you back with my rhymes.
I wish I could hold you once more,
I wish I was more mature.
I wish I’d thought before doing what I did,
I wish I didn't act like such a kid.
I wish we could make amends,
I wish we could still be friends.
I wish I didn't talk so much bull,
But I also wish I wasn't so wishful.

Happy Birthday

This day comes arround once a year,
So I wrote a poem for today.
For my fifty year old mother dear.
The things I've meant to say.

Thank you,
For holding my hand and showing me the way.
Thank you,
For making me who I am today.
Thank you,
For answering my queries when I was small.
Thank you,
For helping me up every time I fall.
Thank you,
Letting me grow up on my own.
Thank you,
For making sure I'm never alone.
Thank you,
For being patient when I was mad.
Thank you,
For being cheery when I was sad.
Thank you,
For making me smile.
Although you're annoying once in a while.

Without you I couldn't have come this far.
So thank you for being the mother that you are.
I hope you always remain this way,
And Ma, have a happy birthday.

Who, When and How?

So many times, I've been betrayed.
So many times, I've been dismayed.
So why does it feel different now?
Why do I ask myself who, when and how?

Is it cause my trust was broken?
Is it cause love is treated like a token
Which changes hands without the lifting of a brow?
I ask myself who, when and how?

After I sprinkled my wounds with salt,
After I admit that it was my fault,
Why am I still crying now?
Asking myself who, when and how?

Questions for a Sonnet.

Why is it so hard to swallow?
Why does my chest feel hollow?
Why does my heart hurt?
Why do I feel like dirt?
Why do I relate only to sorrow?
Why don’t I ever have a better tomorrow?
Why doesn't my life stabilize?
Why do I only move towards my demise?


Is it cause I was given the shove?
Is it cause I lost the one I love?
Is it cause of the trust I'd broken?
Is it cause of the way I'd spoken?
Is it cause I lost my best friend?
Is it cause there is no light at this tunnels end?

Untitled.

Why do I always have to try?
Why is it never someone else's turn?
Why do I still live this lie?
Why do I never seem to learn?
Why is it always me that has to cry?
Why do my tears never seem to dry?
Why can I never say good bye?
Why do I still yearn?


It maybe cause I’m always rude!
It maybe cause I couldn't care less!
It maybe cause I’m so crude!
It maybe cause my life's a mess!
It maybe all the above!
Or it maybe cause, I’m still in love.

3:33 AM.

As I sit alone, in the dark,
On the floor appears a mark.
Suddenly, it becomes a gaping hole.
A hand comes out and grabs my soul.
I try to fight, but it's all in vain.
As I relent so does the pain.
The hand and hole disappear.
I begin to sweat and fear.
As I try to make sense of what's occurred,
I feel the talons of a giant bird.
I don't understand how it got in here,
Again I begin to sweat and fear.
As it tries to pull my soul out,
I panic and begin to shout.
It's startled and flies away,
Telling me it'll come another day.

Why this sudden lust for my soul?
What's their ulterior goal?
Do I have a hidden worth?
Or am I there just for their mirth?
Why this sudden peculiar strife?
Why are things so confusing in my life?