A lot of voices...

A sparrow came to me last night,
drenched and shivering.
Yes,it had rained last night.
It came because it had a story to tell.
A story that sounded so funny standing in front of the rain-soaked balcony.
A story about the happy sun,in its brightest yellow.
A story about the pregnant trees,dancing the Samba.
I had no time for all these stupid ranting but I didn't want to be rude.

Poet,I'm not gifted but I'm angry.
Angry enough to crush your skull to death.
I don't caress birds,placing them on my thigh,
but I don't kill them either.

Dear dance instructor,I don't love you.
No matter where you go,Delhi or Lucknow,
I won't miss you.
I DO wonder at times how it'd have been to melt into your embrace though.
But that's pure lust.

Dear lady in the metro,I'm not particularly fond of your cleavage-revealing blouse.
It's plain crass,if you ask me.
But I guess it keeps your marriage alive and kicking,
so,I don't mind.
Who am I to judge anyway?

Of cheap cigarettes and posh hookahs,
of sighs never earned and kisses never asked for,
my drunken nocturnal self keeps all the wasted senses intact.
And I keep on living.
Let's drink to life,the greatest joke ever cracked.

P.S.And today,I'm going to share with you all the last episode of the Bloggers' meet part I. The spotlight is on Ayantika today. We both are Engineers,we both swear by colored bottoms and we both are blessed with a few extra pounds. But these are DEFINITELY not why we are like a house on fire! Her purple denims were so pretty that even my other friends who saw her pictures on my Facebook profile started inquiring about its whereabouts.*Wink*
Also,if you've noticed,during the Bloggers' meet posts,I let my girls hog the limelight and chose to stay away. Well,I'm as selfless and oblivious of publicity as that.
                                                                             The more believable reason? I don't have my pictures since after the first few minutes,we decided to take all the pictures using Anu's camera and I never got the snaps back,except for the group photo.*Tears and sobs*
Now that you've got the ugly confession out of me and I'm no more the selfless friend promoting other friends for free,can I go to sleep? Thank you.*Farts and barps*

Bang,bang,bang

Bang,bang,bang,dude!

Bang the door

Bang it like you're being chased by a hungry monster.

Bang the whore.

Bang her like this is the last fuck.

And after all the banging,when you get Syphilis,

lie down on the bed obediently.

You'll be covered with red blisters

that will look more like make up and less like the fatal rashes they actually are.

Nevertheless,you will be itching your balls without stopping for even a second.

And trust me,it's fun.


And then,suddenly,you'll think you're cured.

You'll go back to normal life-

hunting,smoking,waltzing...

Little will you know that Syphilis is playing with you.

It just gave you enough time to cool down.

Enough time to appreciate the setting sun playing peek-a-boo with the Eucalyptus leaves behind your porch.

Enough time to ask your wife for forgiveness.

Bang despite all these,dude.

Good time calls for better shit and therefore,harder banging.


And then,one rainy night,it'll return like the unwanted guest-

stealthily,gingerly but firmly too.

And it'll cradle your head like the dotting mother it pretends to be.

And then,fever and rashes will start again.

It'll fool you.

You'll think all the while that you're going to die when in fact,you're very much alive.

You'll start being delirious finally.

You'll see your dead mother in the swing outside your window,

you'll imagine a dead wolf in your green chutney,

you'll try to kill your son with a sharp razor.

Nevertheless,keep banging,dude!

Because that's the only way to be.


At the end of the year,when the invisible queen will hold her annual durbar

and assign all the sinners the punishments they deserve,

you'll be there.

Wearing the pictorial description of your disease around your neck,in front of your prison gate,

you'll await your fate.

Your neck will be oiled like an old machine lying unused for years

so that it becomes easier to chop your head off.


The execution ground is a fine place,really.

Much like a fairground.

Amusements all around.

Vision and sound.

There will be trumpets.

There will be savage dances.

Your life won't go unnoticed,trust me!

I'll be there too-

sitting in front of the queen,

on the floor,

licking champagne from her feet

and singing paeans to her parakeet.


Die without fear,dude.

I'll make you proud.

I'll feed the birds when the sun looks at the grasses in his unkempt hair.

I'll read the novel when twilight cleans the last trace of thick yellowish pus from her mind.

I'll eat roasted lamb when the moon paints everything in its usual nauseous silver.

And on rainy days,I'll go fishing

and look over the river in its healthiest avatar

and think of you,

your unfulfilled dreams,

easy dreams,

catchy dreams,

and the pickle jar you had to take to your grave so that you're born a fine man next time around too.

Don't miss the HEAVY influence of 'The yellow emperor's cure' on this piece. Yes,I read it a few days ago and haven't been able to get it out of my head since then! It was beautiful! And I decided to dedicate this 'poem'(I'm far from a poet but most of you claim I'm one,so,here it goes) to 'Pratishedhak',a little magazine group who will always be the most eclectic bunch of immensely talented yet surprisingly down-to-earth and non-pretentious poets I've ever seen!

And now,the girlie part,

 You might remember I had promised to share all the KBM lovelies one by one. So,here comes bestie no. II-Anupriya! She's poise and grace personified! So composed,so sweet,so unlike me! She balanced our group like anything! Sayantani and I kept blabbering and she lent a Victorian quotient to our group with her subdued smiles and not-so-little black dress! I was rather busy concentrating on her perfect nude footwear(it's so pretty and yet unconventional) but didn't miss the significant detailing. The neon green belt,the yellow watch and most importantly,the brooch...aha,she's a woman who knows how to make the biggest impact without going overboard. And she's also sweet enough to try and make me earn a few bucks more since I'm getting poorer day by day! Love,Anu. Mwah.

The pervert coakroach

I saw the cockroach on my wall while undressing.

I guess it didn't have a cock but then,I was busy unhooking my brassiere,so I can't be sure.

I'm using 'it' because I'm not sure of its sex though ONLY men are supposed to have cocks and I already had doubts that it might have a cock but the fact that it might have a cunt too never occurred to me.

I'm sexist and proudly so.

Coming back to the story,the cockroach was staring at me(or my plum-colored breast).

"What? You want a nibble,oldie?",I asked it.

But it didn't answer. It just kept staring.

I won't deny,I was a little uneasy.

You see,I don't detest sex but it HAS TO be consensual.

And it bloody pisses me off when one gets a view without my permission.

So,I turned my back to it,only to remember that I had even taken my panty off and my bare ass wasn't that bad a view.

So,I couldn't really deny it a view.

While I was busy thinking it over,the cockroach jumped on its feet,landed right on my lap and winked at me.

Then it was gone for good.

The reader is advised to close the browser at this point of time if he/she is here strictly for reading. However,if you LOVE 'Gossip Girl',you're allowed to continue.

P.S.Meeting up my besties Sayantani,Anu and Ayantika today was so much fun! We DID feel part of  'SATC,Kolkata',to say the least! We had lunch at Peter Cat,then the very generous Sayantani bought me 'gola' and then we went to B.K.Market. I'll be sharing everybody else's photos too but I thought Sayantani deserved to be the opening bats(wo)man since
i)she planned this outing
ii)she bought me a substandard 'gola'
iii)she's SO gonna lend me her palazzos!(I know I'm good,Sayantani and that's why people can never accuse me of 'emosanal blackmailing',but you're 'officially' allowed to hate me,:P)

I absolutely HEART her neck piece! And the sling!*Sigh*

On a random rainy evening,thanks to lack of 'kawbitto'

Slighted and dejected,
I lie down,silently.
The bed feels too wet though I'm sure it's not raining outside.
I never wet my beds back in my childhood.
My mom was one hell of a happy woman!

Maybe I AM hallucinating
because it's raining after all!
Incessant and untiring,
the drizzle has been going on for hours.
The sky is some nagging sissy.
I won't have been able to cry for this long,ever!

Or maybe I was in denial.
I don't like the rains much these days.
It seems to mock my very existence.
It seems to make fun of the fact that I got no tears,none whatsoever.
A fact that I was rather proud of.

My floor has turned into a pool of water by now.
No,it's not romantic.
It doesn't rouse the poet inside any of us.
It's plain ugly and poor.
But it doesn't affect me much since I sit on the bed,all day long.

Twenty minutes past two,the clock makes a feeble attempt to ring.
Then resigns and sits on my bed to sing,
to sing unknown scary lullaby never sung before.
It doesn't put me to sleep.
It just turns my hope yellow.

I too,felt like a worm...

I too,felt like a worm-

crawling up the endless glass wall.

Cold and steely,

it froze me to death.

No,no,death would be too easy.

It froze me to Silence.

I looked around-

no fellow traveller,

no companion.

Not that I needed any.

I was self-sufficient.

But alone.

Mind you,I was alone,

not lonely.



I looked around

and saw stuffed buses whooshing down R.B. connector.

I could've seen a lazy,drowsy tram too,far away,

only if I were a little taller,bigger...

and less reluctant.

But I had my own battles to fight.

So,I guess my reluctance makes sense.



I was out to collect the elixir of life.

Yes,the first time I had heard of it,

I too,thought it was funny.

But two reincarnations down the line,

I know better now.



I looked around

and saw a stream of people-

making their way through the crazy morning crowd.

Each had a destination of their own,

buried deep under the smell of rice and curry in their nails.

They won't forget.

They won't be misguided.

For they know their route.

They know it like the back of their hands.

Getting lost is a luxury only vagabonds like you and me are allowed to savour.

So,we better make sure it lasts long.

Yes,two reincarnations down the line,

I'm still stupid.

Elixir can wait.

 P.S.I don't know why I'd have these words in my mind after coming back from The Terence Lewis show that didn't look much like a disaster. Yes,people,in case you're interested,The Terence Lewis workshop is over. I didn't get what I went in for. Contemporary wasn't there much. Out of the ten classes,more than eight were spent doing Hip hop and Bollywood. Contemporary was there just for the heck of it. But then,I'm no Martha Graham. So,I guess it was a breather for me that the steps weren't tough. So,I could manage just about decently though it's been a year since I did anything except Kathak. Also,the ten days' extravaganza meant only track pants and tees for me. So,a very good friend Moumita decided to help me out with a picture of herself.

The picture is blurry though she claims her mobile camera to be of better quality than my digital camera.*Rolls her eyes*
But I must say I heart the blouse! Reminds me of the good ol' Victorian grace. I'm not a stiletto person but the red beauties are too tempting to resist!