Remembering friends

`
There's a winter in a chilly air
And fog drops on a sand
And there's an eye that draws me near
In a foreign land
`

Minneapolis, MN,

March, 2008

`
I do not know what I want to write.
I have written to you before
Of grave things;
They are, though, but empty words.
Caged in an empty world.
They are products of my ignorance.

You are so far away,
But I cannot feel it.
Do you hear me when I key this in,
Or when you read it?
I feel you hear it when I think of it.
Within my mind.
I do not know why I write.
And I do not know what.
And I do not know.
I am ignorant. Yet, I love.

Read the Gita.
Full of empty words. And nice things.
It will do you good.
When I read the Gita, I feel nice.
It is nice then.
So I stop reading.
But again, later, it is not so nice sometimes.
So I have to read again.
I have to read again and again; a little each time,
Till I feel nice.
I have tried to read even after I have begun feeling nice,
But that gets boring, and the nice feeling goes away.
So I stop when it is nice.
And love.
`

Minneapolis, MN,

August, 2007

Reminiscences

`
A certain shade of a certain tree
A certain grassy green
Tiffin-break, a friend;

All float across
Like a distant dream
As if it never was,

Float across wafts
Of animated conversation,

We used to talk
Of such grave stuff –
Silly talk.

I remember
We had talked of the future once
Of parting too
But strongly believing
Somehow it would never be,
How silly!

It all drifts across;
And I smile
At that distant dream of silly things...

Maybe they're all that made me.
`

Mumbai, MH,

July, 2005

`
For some reason
I was agitated that day,
Wailing aloud hysterically…

Ma, soft and kind as ever,
Came along; she took me in her lap,
Cuddled and caressed me
Against all my physical protests.
I somehow flung myself away,
Darted off to the large verandah,
And sat there sobbing…

I was sure she would come
Just in a while,
To pacify my temper;
And only after she begged and pleaded
Would I royally forgive her for all.
I sobbed and waited,
Having long forgotten
The cause behind this tantrum…

My wait grew impatient,
I got tired of my sobbing.
My tears having got dry,
Only an empty sniffle remained.
And yet, Ma still wasn’t there…

My bubble self-esteem
Bid me stay,
Yet curiosity,
She dragged me along,
Where in the world was Ma!

Just then,
Those lovely divine arms
Wrapped around me,
And in a moment
She was kissing me all over my face
As I clenched onto her bosom.
She just laughed and kissed,
And I punched her and hugged her
Simultaneously…


I sighed,
And sigh gave away to a dry smile
As I lay on my cot.
Some hostel-mate knocked on the door.
They were debating outside in the corridor,
Over the present socio-economic scenario.
I had wise and knowledgeable friends.
`

Chandannagar, WB,

June, 2004

To Somik on his birthday

`
A mass of men and women
Walk on;
Faces meet, and part,
Strangers grow stranger,
And masks all around...

Here's a friend, and there's a friend,
They hear you, they do not listen,
They see you, they do not observe,
And they're friends...

Thank you God,
I am one of those lucky few --
Someone listens to my unspoken words,
Observes my face beneath painted masks,
Someone knows me inside out,
I am not the strangest in this strange crowd.
`

Pilani, RJ,

November, 2003