Tuesday, 31 January 2012


A smiling can give life a spirit of love,
even though it is really absent in love lost,
but a look in woman face, a beautiful one,
makes one to feel the earthly touch and care
from outside and inside travel in love charm,
and feeling may disappear if she disappears,
and it is the fate that the earth moves fast,
and its axis of rotation has no mistake
with life, fear, tear, birth, and symphony of love.


You first talk with me,
Then you  hide or go idle,
It is an obvious way of neglect,
I learn the code,
An abstract of mind's agony,
And I am dissolved in search of the cause, 
A haunting for love and touch.

Who knows the synthesis?
Inserted it is in opposite to mind’s desire,
An embodiment of loss and broken terms,
A sound secret that I cannot express,
And go with it many days' work
In solitude and desert,
Decoding in your eyes’ choice
And I am living with it
For more than a year,
A texture given in a pensive tie.

Thinking comes into me
I have perhaps wasted time,
With you in favor of love,
And I am not in life’s treasure
That we all want to have
With love and destiny,
And I am not clear to leave or stay
In the idle mode or favor,
Talks are absent in habits, not in blossom,
But I want to build it so long in multitudes
Of love and time, a pensive moment.

Questions come in my mind -
What quality do I have to conquer love?
What is required to love a loved one?
What is the manifestation precisely
I have to quality to generate love?
Only talks are not the work to love,
And there is a perhaps new design,
And I have to appear in a new way,
I feel it for someone to feel love,
Because I have no heroic charms
And I have to plant one motive
To establish identity for love,
Power to write a verse,
And power to establish faith and devotion
That love needs to have with everyone,
And I am blank in that sense, I presume.

Loneness brings me to have in deep sigh,
Mind cannot flee, if love is born and torn.

Saturday, 28 January 2012


My mind wants to root out my loneliness, and I go out to see the world, the life, and its transition.

I walk side by side many visitors to the Kolkata Book Fair, 2012 generating two bonds - free bond and love-bond. And people of young generation  come down with beautiful minds to see and feel the growing charms of the earth that bears basics of  love, loving partners and opportunity to enter world of books and new discoveries in words. I just accommodate my footsteps with new comers and get an entry to the book fair, a wave of pronunciation to know the world with rich mind to love, to take part  in singing with all, where earth is moving in its gravitation and rotation.

Today is Saturday, a day for worshiping of Devi Swaraswati, Goddess of learning, a common and great event for young generation, pretty girls who get freedom to wear sari and move around in schools, in colleges, and in the book fair ground, flickering like joyful waves in the  morning sun light, creating  images of love and motion for beauty of colors, having freedom from parental supervision, outside buckles of routine works, duties, studies, and enjoy different ways of teens' love, moving on free wheels, not hit by rules. This is the dancing time to travel on giant platform with friends, in delight, and it is our Valentine's Day and it is our symbol of first love, first touch with someone who is first to name, to hear a person with promising love, trying to reach up to the shore of crowned feeling of love, hopes to deal with love and desire that signify the crown of measures and treasures of sweet feeling, in an active control of perception and testimony; and it is a profile of corresponding loving heart with words, bonds, basics of thoughts and womanhood, liking one beloved friend travelling in book fair ground, flowing through lordly stands on love complements with elements of judgement of love bonding patterns, a big leap for gains, free breathing space, a gentle touch, and this is the time to feel affection to a new friend in pure love interpretation.

The earth gives dreams of love,
in repetitive simplicity to know the birth.

Friday, 27 January 2012


Roaming in the Kolkata International Book Fair, 2012, I feel it in a different way, no search for my favorite books, lonely I move, lonely I remember someone who is not with me, yet living with me, as if, I am in a fantasy of love, a top-most feeling of real love sworn. I feel no courage to see the focal theme pavilion on Italia, or the 200 years’ celebration of Charles Dickens, or books on one hundred and fifty years celebration of Nobel award winning poet  Rabindranath Tagore, or of Swami Bibekananda, or books on one hundred and twelve years of poet Kaji Najrul Islam.  Lastly I decided to sit at the little magazines’ pavilion. I have to put calmness in my bleeding mind.         

I found no crowd therein, a forlorn singing; marvelous self publishers, authors, editors are sitting with delight as if they have  won the world; you may praise or purchase their products, it is not their concern, they come here to correctly place their endeavour to find new writers and new young thinkers on literature and culture, and finding newness of thinking brains is their pride and symbol of existence with war of words, in new form and content

Reading comes from eagerness to know,

Searching comes from selection and favored esteem,

And all visitors do not come from  one platform

Some come to search, some come to enjoy,

Some come to sell; some come to know the unknown.

I sit on a chair at  a table of a renowned little Bengali magazine

I see rows of tables where the enthusiastic worker and devotees of small presses

Are burning like incessant candles, and a few visitors are watching and enquiring something,

And I cannot say what they are enquiring about, and I find two or three foreigners there.

The message is something frustrating,

A crowd and a little magazine are not shared like blossoms,                   

If one goes to morning work, other goes to create words’ reflections,

The sun has the lighting power to emblazon the reflection with the message of love,

The morning worker gets the message that he does notice he has shared.

One customer stands before the displaying table and chooses a book,

Perhaps he missed the book that is also available in a big publishing house,

And he makes an argument, “Why the commission for selling of the book will not be allowed

Beyond 15 percent whereas that big publisher sells the book at a reduced rate by 25 percent less.”

My friend does not argue much, and say, “Please take it, at Rs.180.00

Which is nearly 20 percent less, and I cannot come down more.”

When the transaction is complete, the customer takes a close view of the book purchased,

And one word just comes out, “O! It is a new edition for Kolkata Book Fair, 2012.”

My friend just tells me that he sells it at a certain loss to compete the big publishing houses here.  

New generation youth comes with smiling, and on our displying table one  young women

Comes and just makes an appeal, “Please attend the meeting on the university campus,

And we are inviting all editors of small presses to say their views on little mags.”

I look at the speaker, a new and energetic woman face that blooms the search

For a visionery servey of the young world, with pacifying eyes to love the world,

And I am happy to see the waving of her journey for counting the possibilities of existence,

And it may be a research work for little magazines; it may get published or debated, or rewarded,

Yet these little magazines will not get lift to be a commercially live, without advertising.

Thursday, 26 January 2012


Better it is to have a little love than no love at all,
Love says nothing, it goes out, when one is stupid to feel.
I move on my own way, do not wait at crossroad to know it.

My lady love gives me puzzle, a parabolic high waiting time,
And I find she has no time bound arrival on my web page,
Instead, somewhere she writes, "My new friend gives me laughter and giggle."

I learn there are many ways to ignore someone,
Who is nothing but a crazy one and of less importance,
Hard it is for me to believe it, wait wait wait she says always.

A voice says closed eyes inside my heart,
-"Please search another one who can love you and read your mind."

-"What can I get from the new comer?" I question.

-"Do you know long waiting is a kind of piracy?" is the inside answer.

-"Another woman? Searching for a friend is rampant.
In new search, what if  it comes out someone to be devil,
and I  have traced it after a long gap, by that time all is stolen.
No clear pathway, hiding facts is zinged acrobatic game.
Better I stay away from filtering, searching for a friend."   I answer.

"A man has to possess what he can perform by himself." is the inner answer.  

Tuesday, 24 January 2012


Passed are those days when love is like walking flame, 
Not propagated alike as we do now in web pages.

I do not want to go to her, as my teacher’s messenger,
As he tells me to carry a letter to his lady love,
I love him and also honor him, as a teacher,
And he takes small remuneration, teaching me at home,
And I sit down before him on a mat on floor
To listen his lectures on maths and chemistry,
To note down full solution of questions in my copy book,
And I consider him a friend of mine, a revered guide.

One day, he becomes violent to call me strictly
And says me to obey his order even for a price,
I become cool more than what it is in normal attitudes, 
And I agree to honor his feeling for love
That he wants it to share with his beloved one,
And I cannot be barrier to the songs of love, and
I feel something that floats in sense of loving boat 
That moves me to perform the duty of a messanger.

My eagerness, my thinking, my vibrant teen age sense
Make me feel emotions of love, a painter’s work
With colors that is in my heart, common to all,
A beautiful understanding of love and smiles.
And I use to know my freedom to do the job, honest by heart
And I take the closed envelope containing the letter
That rightly embossed with signs of love, well painted
Image of heart’s image that is also my temptation to know
What is written in the closed cover, awakened as teen-ager. 

I feel the urge to meet the unknown lady, 
And I reach at destination as early as I can walk near,  
And I become spell bound seeing her beauty, an angel, 
Who descends upon the earth, waiting for his love,
And I hand over the closed envelope to her.
When she looks at the letter, she is emblazoned with blush
As if her first priority  is to receive the message,
That is sent to her from a heaven that is full of dream
And charm of loving sense for that she is waiting so long
To have her journey to mingle with relief,  from pains,
And she wants feel free, freedom and relief. 

Love is a ride, heart's feeling, inner calling
To touch loving things that she wants to talk about.
And she makes a glance at me, happiness in her eyes, 
She says in clear and confirmed voice,
“Please tell your sir, I love him, and do not open this letter,
Because my marriage has been settled elsewhere, 
And I preserve it all my life as it is a token loving symbol, 
And you are a cute boy, who hands over gracefully this one, 
And I would like to remember my first love the way I want. "

Monday, 23 January 2012


I look at my glass screen to view her,

And I find her presence, talking with someone,

And she perhaps is present chatting box for a long time,

I am happy to see her and

Make my greetings, cheering up at her


Response is first,  “Hi!”

And I find she puts a short poem on her page, 

I think it is a starting point for conversation with her

And I want to make my day pretty moments of talks

To say did she see my deep mood of my love

And I write on the comment box:

“I want you to be mine, 
I want you to be present
All time with honey-sense, 
I want to conquer all that you have, 
Lovely open mouth with rhythmic singing, 
Moment by moment in lovely imprints 
When my heart sinks into loving thunder, 
Feeling of the earth, to drain thirst into ocean."

Immediately after, she writes there,

“Oh! No, my poem is not for you,
My poem is for someone, living far away,
He is not in my direct contact, and 
He is angry with me and does not talk with me,
I write my feeling to express my love to him.”

I feel strangeness in her mind,

Previously I was on the thread many times,

She did not shrink her heart, talking on my thin lines

Of strong thread that she created with me for love,

And she was free to put her words and lines boldly

To complete the tread of love giving me a voice and

Responding me with her echo a confirmed platform. 

Today I feel glass screen is perfect in raptures for moving images,

I learn what it is happened in normal way of living, loving, searching.

Saturday, 21 January 2012


A little distance can result for feeble gain or nothing,
Across the open wave pages, viruses are accompanying,
Sunlight may be deprived of loving sense, rot of skin,
And I have to face the question:
What is love it means from a distance?
Starting at talks, I am facing a battle for love, so long
I cannot touch the loving tide, far away from its shadow,
As if my feeling goes down with white sheets of love
And I am clear I am late to feel the breathing earth
That has some sweating and feeling in cloud sense of love,
And I have to think the loss of possibility than secured one
In my love trip, a careless choice I make of random selection.
And the answer may be “We take nothing what we share.”

Thursday, 19 January 2012


No, I do not love you,
As I see you in your changed form,
As you are not on earlier expression,
You are now different from
What it was earlier in your red hands. 
The vessels of my blood do feel inflammation
Response is now a silence that is a burden you inflict,
Now I cannot acknowledge you at every pale chatting,
You feel no delight of my calls,
You overrule my love by force to specify terms 
To feel, you do not love me anymore, and steal something.

You young woman, you live in my heart,
Your young mind, I love it, I adore it,
In whose response I do love you, honey,
It is heaven; you give me nature’s delight,
I love you that time; you look in my eyes,
Gladdened me in a role during talking
And now you are ignoring me all the time.

O dear lady beauty, I do not love you
I do not understand how my affection
Gets married with your loving enthralls  
Binding me in selection of  your reasons,
I am now lonely, and cannot transfuse
My love into real loved one, but remain not
In saintly devotion in search of love, but with marks
That keep me settled to live in compassion,
And it is my delight and it is my fate and fashion
As you are my lost perfection, a gap created,
And now I am in search for love of togetherness. 


Love does flow
Love does top glow
Releasing and relieving
Concert of little head tunes
Body charms in closed eyes, 
Warm and speedy sighing
Message of delight on key board,
Formation of good flowing
Perfect timing, a descendant. 
Life expands, perfect mutuing.
Thanks to ……


Water cares for ice, 
But depends on weather, 
Love cares for joy,
But depends on other one
Seeds come from corn,
Corn depends on blooming.
Blood cares for protein, 
Life depends on mutation,
Affection, sharing, mating, 
On invitation of other one,
Adoration invites fulfillment 
In body, mind and heart
In all conditions of love.

Thanks to …..


One word aptly spoken
Structural clues
Bond between pairs
Flip in body parts
Expression steps in.


Situation twisted
Widespread splash
Back and forth
Access of blues
Matured rise


We permit pairing
Sequences not identical
New voice comes out
One copy of each shared
Replication comes out.

Life begins anew in human kingdom.

Wednesday, 18 January 2012


Life, I know what it is when she is with me.
What does it mean when we are together?
I know she takes part and I take a stormy hug, afloat,
The place, the time, the event are not a matter of concern,
I know what our bodies are doing with loving mark,
The art by which limbs take part in forming body's bent,
Tucked with perspiration, boiling, at the peak of pleasure,
First it begins in eyes, then in mouth, and lastly we do fly,
Words of love, promises of love, closeness of love –
Bring heaven and in body's surge to declare:
“I am the earth, I am the love, I am the gift of love’s love.”

Life, I know what it is if she is not with me.
What does it mean if she is away from me when we turn to be selfish?
I do not feel any essence of love; the vast ocean is not blue,
I forget to pursue me for self protection or motivation and that is why
I cannot be warring knight, and words moving around
Do not sprinkle love singing, and instead stop to say meaning of love. 
And  gifts of love, when thoughts and feelings of love disappear.
It is loveless life, such living steals away energy, no desire. 
Either at the time of her departing, or after four years or more,
Which is earlier, and I cannot seperate my own time
That was once her time with me, thinking of mine,
And now I am frustrated with her absence by inactive sway
Of existence, moving into disorder of mind's attitude,
Inability to live with my own pattern of thinking and living.
My life is now a small rat in that it can be easily wiped out.


On my poetry journey, when I am binding words,
And moving with distant web page seachers,
A gentle wave first stimulates my way for noticing,
And a lone follower comes to acknowledge me, coming
From a distant land, I do not know where from it is,
I find I am not falling on congested pathway, 
Some delight, some direction, some existence I feel. 

And by abbreviated name, it may be a woman or a man,
Following my poem, first on the page, no comments posted, 
And warm feeling comes in my mind, I feel 
Calm, an imagination of my lone follower I cannot describe.
My silent observer keeps deep coolness in its marrow, 
Sheltered in wonder silence to adore every word
I write when I am in mood to owe the world
Of love and sequence of random voyage
In my page, a separate chamber of poetic flame
That I try to light words with softest speaking of evolution.
And I am always there in my web page blog, keeping 
One chamber for writing and other chamber for following,  

An energy I always feel to elaborate words for attending
For good writing and keeping me enthusiastic to write more,
Writing from chamber 1 –  viewing from chamber 2
May be it is for one companion who just sits in chamber 2
And sees me like others who are prominent in using words.  

Many times, I think to know this strange observer, 
Every time, I do not reach to conclusion if I would make a stir 
To know her, and instead I love to let this observer stay
Like a special honorary person, who turns to an entropy
And energy to have a morning singing for my writing and love. 

Tuesday, 17 January 2012


She comes like a little girl,
Completing home task given in school,
Like a moonlight to fill the earth,
A bottom of love I do feel on her path,
That gives a fresh breathing in my stillness
That so long stays with me as I am
Not talking with her, to feel it in the form of fire,
Every time she talks giving long assurance,
And I don't forget all her words, assured or uttered, 
As I am mature one to catch hold of words' Live Sea, 
And have passed a long way with the history,
Even if, in her talks, I feel comfort and pleasure,
How she shapes whole of our loving occassion
When we are bound to sit in agreement in secret journey, 
As if she holds all of me - my heart, my body, my life -
To clean all narrow thinking so as to create broader skyway.
She is thus makes me fueled to move on dancing wheel,
As if the universe is making us to be one glorious love,
And we are sweet couple in our teens,
And we experience first sense of touching and kissing
For the growing longing in body and mind,
A sense and a communication to the whispers of rising hearts,
Where body shape-lines changes manifold for ultimate bonding,
We are on the way of clicking of favored buttons,
On the web page for victory of life's pride we are searching for. 

Sweet dreams are still with me and remember
The days when I talk with her, she guides me with love.  


The flame of love puts me misread,
It ignites my love as I want to reach her
More than what I have, showing avoiding her. 
My burns are not in customs with her term,
As I dare not to send more vocal upon silence,
And she bears it as natural instinct she holds upright,
And I do not make her bend more on love affair, and
To feel me is not to feel her, instead, or I only make noise,
In the feeling of love, there is one anchor to know each other,  
My prayer is not heard and I cannot tell I am nearest to her,
And it is the great barrier to understand causes of her silence, 
Love and lover, the trust, the motto, the sublime closeness 
Those keep everyone in the sequence of getting together, 
In search of composed and not composed changes 
Of rides of mind over touch and passion, a race in sensation,
Amidst love cycles inscribed in fulfillment of loving quiet.

Monday, 16 January 2012


My poem is translated into Greek language by Poet Kapardeli Eftichia 

I come down at a station to get my limbs free from train jerks,
And move on the platform a little, at the wildest steps of relief,
And when departure whistle is blown, 
I horridly come to my chair in compartment,
And I find a lady is sitting on the chair allotted to me,
And with disgust, I say, “Madam, the chair is mine.”
She smiles and moves a little, and says, “Just see it is my chair no. 46,
Your chair number is 45, and my berth is upper one, 46.”
And it is enough for me to understand my fault, 
As my berth is joining of two chairs, containing numbers 45 and 46,
And the upper birth is straight, and I say to her, “Be comfort, dear lady.”
She smiles, “Ok, I am fine, and I will get down after three hours.”
She wears blue jeans pant and brown top,
She is in her young charms, smiling always on her lips,
And by little moving of her body, her hips swing,
That is her charm in a man’s eyes,
She brings out one lap top from her bag,
And inserts data card to navigate internet,
And she is verily engaged in her lap top screen,
And imagination of her eyes that depict interference of her love, 
And her face becomes full with anger,
And then I say, “What happens dear lady?”
She does not lift her eyes, and simply says,
“No telephone tower, I cannot connect to my working site.”
“What you do, dear lady passenger?” I say. 

“I am a software engineer in a private farm.”
She replies, and lifts her eyes towards me,
It is seduction I feel in her illustrated eyes,
And a little anger makes her hold to give me her laptop
And says, “Just see the screen, the cursor moves,
But the internet cannot be open, and I am in a hurry
To send message to my office about the development, 
That I do in my leave period at home, and also tell them,
That I am joining today.”
Her looks are like opening an envelope of delight, sweet anger
That fills my mind, the way of sensuous affection,
To feel her helplessness not getting connected in moment’s need.
It is a mystical sojourn I feel in a train,
And I take her laptop with some ionized bindings,
That play at variable regions on my great day,
And just I take a look on her laptop,
And then return back it to her, as if I am not prepared to this gasp 
Of moving moment of spirit and love,
And I find her in an illustrated moment soon,
And she takes back her lap top and closes it and puts it in her bag,
And looks out side of the train through the widow. 
Her posture is lovely and her figure is a tempted dance,
Hiding behind a ladder that portrays love movement,
I am feeling some happiness in talking with her,
Some pacifying aspects of life, that has no limitations,
In the foliage of love, movement and time’s wonder. 
I am moving with wind of love, 
Like a singing in a mammoth nestle,
The more nature and life comes before me, 
The more I become settled in love.
- By Asim Kumar Paul, 21.12.2011 

Κατεβαίνω στον σταθμό για να ξεμουδιάσω από το τράνταγμα του τρένου 
και να κινηθώ λίγο στην πλατφόρμα αφού κάνω λίγα βήματα ανακούφισης 
Και όταν το τρένο σφυρίζει για αναχώρηση
Βρίσκομαι πάλι στην θέση μου στο βαγόνι 
Και βρίσκω μια κυρία να κάθεται στην δική μου θέση 
Και με αποστροφή της λέω ‘Κυρία η θέση είναι δική μου’
Χαμογελά και κινείται λιγάκι και λέει «δείτε ακριβώς αυτό είναι η θέση μου αριθ. 46, Ο αριθμός της θέση σας είναι 45, και της δικής μου είναι ένα νούμερο πιο πάνω το 46 o Και αυτό είναι αρκετό για μένα να κατανοήσω το λάθος μου , Καθώς στο βαγόνι οι δυο θέσεις είναι ενωμένες και περιέχουν τους αριθμούς 45 και 46
Όταν το βαγόνι ευθυγραμμίζεται τότε της λέω Αναπαυθείτε αγαπητή Κυρία 
Αυτή χαμογελά Εντάξει είμαι καλά ,θα κατεβώ μετά από τρεις ώρες.»
Φοράει μπλε τζιν παντελόνι και καφέ ζώνη
Είναι μια γοητευτική κυρία, με ένα πλατύ χαμόγελο 
καθώς κουνά το όμορφο σώμα της, και τους λεπτούς γοφούς της 
αυτή είναι γοητευτική στα μάτια ενός άνδρα,
Μεταφέρει ένα lap top στην τσάντα της 
Και εισάγει την κάρτα δεδομένων για πλοήγηση στο internet
Και συμμετέχει πολύ σοβαρά στην οθόνη του lap top
Και η φαντασία στα μάτια της απεικονίζουν την παρέμβαση της αγάπης της,
Και στο πρόσωπό της φαίνεται ο θυμός, 
και τότε λέω, «τι συμβαίνει αγαπητή κυρία;»
Δεν ανυψώνει τα μάτια της, και λέει απλά, Χωρίς τηλεφωνική σύνδεση δεν μπορώ να συνδεθώ με την ιστοσελίδα εργασίας μου 

Τι αξιαγάπητος γυναικείος επιβάτης, λέω 
«Είμαι μηχανικός λογισμικού σε ένα ιδιωτικό αγρόκτημα.»
Απαντά, και ανυψώνει τα μάτια της προς εμένα,
Καθώς με αποπλανούν τα κατακάθαρα μάτια της 
Λίγο ακόμα θυμωμένη μου δίνει το laptop
Και μου λέει "Απλώς δείτε την οθόνη, κινείται ο δρομέας

Αλλά το Διαδικτυο δεν είναι ανοικτό,
και βιάζομαι για να στείλω το μήνυμα στο γραφείο μου για την ανάπτυξη,
Αυτό κάνω στην διάρκεια της άδειας μου στο σπίτι, και επίσης να τους πω,
Ότι είμαι συνδεδεμένη σήμερα. "
Η εμφανιση της μοιαζει σαν το άνοιγμα ένα φάκελου της απόλαυσης
γλυκός θυμός που γεμίζει το μυαλό μου, ο τρόπος της αισθησιακής αγάπης,

αισθάνεται αβοήθητη που δεν μπορεί να συνδεθεί την κατάλληλη στιγμή 
Είναι μια μυστική παραμονή που αισθάνομαι σε ένα τραίνο,

Και παίρνω το lap-top της με μερικές έτοιμες συνδέσεις,
αυτό το παιχνίδι μου αλλάζει την μεγάλη ημέρα μου,

Και ακριβώς ρίχνω μια ματιά στο lap-top της,
Και έπειτα της το επιστρέφω , αφού δεν είμαι έτοιμος για αυτή την κίνηση 
της στιγμής του πνεύματος και της αγάπης,
Και την βρίσκω σε μια εξαιρετικά γρήγορη στιγμή,
παίρνει πίσω το lap top το κλείνει και το βάζει στην τσάντα της

και κοιτάζει έξω από το παράθυρο του τρένου 
Η στάση της είναι καλή και η φιγούρα της μοιάζει σαν μια κίνηση χορού 
κρύβεται πίσω από μια σκιά που απεικονίζει την στιγμή της αγάπης 

Αισθάνομαι ευτυχισμένος όταν μιλώ μαζί της 
Μερικές πτυχές ειρήνης της ζωής χωρίς περιορισμό
Στο φύλλωμα της αγάπης της στιγμής και του χρόνου 
Κινούμαι με τον αέρα της αγάπης, 
Όπως ένα τραγούδι σε ένα μικρό μαμούθ ,
Ολη η φύση και η ζωή έρχονται ενώπιον μου, 
Και ερωτεύομαι για πάντα 

-translated into Greek language by Poet Kapardeli Eftichia