LONELINESS

Short story slam week 39, the children's place, toys, games, puzzles, and cartoon books, TOY-SHOP

TOY-SHOP

I am not that boy

Who always wants to buy,

I am that boy

Who wants to bring

Smiling, again and

Again in the sense of

Joy, watching

Toy-selling shop,

To follow teacher’s

Saying, “Do not mess.”

I am that boy

Who always wants

To avoid lure

That comes ahead

Of every shadow

Of toy’s display,

Yet I want one toy

That has a story

That can say

Truth that is

Dramatic always.

VALENTINE’S DAY, 14TH FEBRUARY, 2016-SENIOR CITIZENS

It is sea beach at Puri,

We are six friends

All are between 64 and 72 years of age.

Vertical sunlight floods the sea,

Reflection makes plunging image

Of emerging outstretched loving arm,

The glimpse of clear morning,

We sink into traverses of cosmic life,

And feel past reminiscence of

Secrets of youth time in deep sea,

And generate loving memories

With our wives, when individual

Tour occurred with songs of love

And embrace of wife,

In our arms, in golden flying

In love and ambition, like parallel

Musical notes of the sea,

Under the harmonious sky,

Beyond buildings’ work-shades,

Spreading blue hue in body and mind.

2

Subodh-da guides how to cook food

For us, because he loves and

Feels good in cooking,

Along with Bikash and Tushar,

Who are energetic to lead the team.

Chinmoy-da gets some

Old age ailments on body and mind,

Arun has strong mind, with some ailments.

I am the guest and visitor and

Come down with them to make

A charming shift of their endeavor.

All of them put some guts

On their lives and I am impressed

With their designs of management

That involves into their lives’ going

For forward journey to locate a leaf

On the sea wave, for last settlement

With wave and sojourn on sands,

To mark footprints across the sea beach

Those cannot be washed away, but remembered.  

YOUNGER SISTER (In commemoration of my younger sister)

The moment this embroidery Kantha stitch came before my eyes,

It comes to my mind it was once shown to me when my sister was alive.

So many years she passed away, my poor younger sister, I never

Forget her, and for so many divergent works, she performed,

Either in parent’s house, or in her husband’s house,

She became curators of all happenings around her, and we

are mare observers on her destiny, leaving behind one daughter

And one son, who are perhaps suffered harsh terms of living

With life, in their father’s home of loneliness. 

I get hurt at every event she suffers,

Introduced one lie, about her death,

I believe something; do not believe many things,

She is no more, but covers surroundings,

In my mind she is an idol of sorrow,

And for that I roam places of

Importance where she moved while alive,

Only seemingly feeling of missing links arrives,

I do not want to hear it, and leave the place,

This homemade Jessor Kantha embroidery makes me

Remember, catastrophically remember this world

Lonely and nostalgically evidence of my younger sister’s past

And present latitude of message of her pain stitched.

VILLAGE IN AUTUMN (TANKA)

1.

In autumn morning,

Village path, vibrant sunlight,

Dancing with mist,

Symphony everywhere,

Euphoria with time and rhyme

2.

My mind goes with scene

Nature speaks with words and mists

Sunlight in delight,

Mind dances with freshness of

Rising sun and morning shine. 

WATERY PATHWAY

Vision unbound in harbor passage,  

Water responsive from dream spot,

Too vast for a voyage, we begin,  

Quest starts back from school days.

This December my attempt starts

From street, from rout chart enigmas

One way, crossing it by steamer

The river gets elongated fiesta in port.

A singing motion, envisioned catharsis,

Shrills of walking on mud, sediments,

Salty taste of water, are stages with

Thrills and penance, vision is charm.

On the journey, we reach nearer to

Deep whims and sacrifice of existence,

Our foot prints and home are presents,

All attempts in reality carry our dream.

  

SINGING OF WATER

RIVER, OH RIVER a poem by Asim Kumar Paul

HAIKU

Night, fog and lens,

River, greens, light, coolness,

Civilization.

TANKA

White morning mist cuffs

Hands of nature’s cycle,

Harvesting time,

Red sun peeps on paddy field,

Emptiness filled with love.  

Classical Vocal Omkar Dadarkar at Kharagpur

NEW TOWN

I walk to the construction site

Soil is prepared, r.c. column tries to grab the sky,

Rubbish, building materials scattered everywhere,

Metro railway on the foreground with sidewalls,

Buildings crab to get architectural beauty,

That fits to the new town’s appearance.

I want to search lost field’s greenery,

It is bounded with fencing at some places,

Either it is a mall premises or lawn to sit-and-eat,

Having one big sign-board, “Multi Cuisine Restaurant”,

Cosmopolitan town just takes the shape,

And sign of purposeful commercial intent,

Living here is a boast for those who can afford price,

Cemented whims is established with no grudge,

We need not think of the past, exposure is there

Just to walk beside the glimpse, edge of dream.  

BETWEEN TWO ROADS

I walked too often to find roots

Of quiet place – away from home

And many times, I am plunged

Between two roads, striding away

In a long and strenuous journey.

Instead, I have to wash away dream

From my mind, dry pathway makes

Me frustrated, restraining me from

This wild journey, and excesses

Have been done upon my mind,

Sweet home is the prince,

Filling peace in everyone’s mind,

Rescuers are not at red soil or metallic road.

From daybreak to evening,

I learnt to stay at home, even if

I am dried out with thirst

Or melt in agony, none has loving tongue.

TANKA

Narrow stream

Riverbed almost dry

People’s plunder

Down to flowing of water

They place pieces of bones. 

FLOWER

See those small flowers in the garden,

Whose blooming has pride to molten

Aggrieved mind with enshrined chants

To resume work for life, tearing wrenched

Fragrance of strained mind, to see abode

Of life’s journey with love and innocence. 

Short story slam week 32: Unexpectedness

image credit: http://bluebellbooks.blogspot.in/

His mystic appearance is mystery again,

And wings appear preparedness very much,

Classic forbearance dominates edge of

Entertainment, without disgust or pity,

It tells something, scatters humor, and

Background is filled with argument of the unexpected.

When observance wane solitude,

Situation turns into merriment,

With signs and wonders of cosmic change,

Children love it to play with this outline of drawing.

This lends something believing love has no ending

With proceedings of creation that recreates it every time.

Short story slam week 31: HALLOWEEN at DISNEY WORLD

HALLOWEEN at DISNEY WORLD

Disney World,

It looms in

Mist of Halloween,

Illumination turns mystery,

As if it is dancing in the air,

Bending body in fairy light,

People will stare at those

Imagery tomorrow’s plan.

Fantasy becomes

Consumers’ song,

It happens like ghost.

Yet dream consumes man,

Happenings consume fate,

Shadow consumes color.

Need changes definition. 

DEVI DURGA

Yellow response of

Autumn, eyes of Devi Durga

Fills mind, sacred space.  

HALLOWEEN

They speak in the night

When light plays fairy glimpse

On places abandoned in garden.

All friends wear pale costumes

Ghostly eyes in the skyline mist

Amid dead souls standing around.

All gather in clean weather

Just about to knock the door

At the stage to make themselves appear

With outrage romp up,

Rolled out towards stony eyes,

And they are Halloween players.

They make something vague

That makes room for more scared whims.

HAIKU

Over the glass window

Raindrops trail watery path

An escape route down.