He has peeked for life in the new mall,
But the price is too high;
Packaged love are sold by glistening brand
Filled with air to last long.
After getting the green nod
He had became amused to see
How confused his character was!
He wrote a paragraph and stopped.
After all, every first novel is a
Off he went to the blank canvas,
Dipping his brush into the rainbow.
There came out the colors so powerful !
Blinding the ‘common’ people he took the earth’s bow.
Illuminating his own blind eyes
He became the ‘uncommon’ show.
Water droplets are falling from sheds
from eyes,may be a little salty I fear;
Are bathing the earth,
The boy got the appointment
Of counting stars;
While the near face still laughing
Not having the slip
made of ‘pink’.
The alley is narrow and dark.
perspiration was on her forehead,
Computing every step;
Evaluating the tensed future,
Of dark hands to kill,
shriek of that bird..
(This types of tales are called microtales or tinytales where as few as possible words are use to express a emotion.)
When caroms stroke the board
When he almost had the game in first turn
When I forgot to look at the red
And he said ‘Nanda-lal’;’Nanda-lal’;
And I , giving the angry looks!
Precious moments were passing like a wind
What more to say
What more to say about him, about us…
Words are not enough to express; to celebrate.
When I just couldn’t stay at home in eve
When I rang the cycle-bell under his window
When he peeked from there
Like a just-woken-up nincompoop.
And we had our cycles
And we rule(d) the world
The kings of Haldia
The kings of heart.
Someday, when we’ll grow old
And suns will set,
Smiles-without-teeth will rise;
And we’ll paddle our cycles
Sing our non-rhythmic song;
Through our memory lane
Through our playful alley.
And we won’t stop, won’t stop
Till the sins fall down
And a new moon will rise
And a new us will rise.
THE BURNING COAL IS EMITTING HOPE;
LOST IN A TREACHEROUS LOOP.
STRUGGELING TO FIRE, TO BE IGNIGHTED,
AND DIMMING BIT BY BIT, WITH EVERY SECOND.
WITH EVERY ICE IN IT;
TRYING TO FINISH ALL IT’S SPIRIT.
ALAS! NOW ITS EXTINGUISHED…
NOW IT HAS NOTHING TO GLORIFY
IT HAS NO C.V. TO SHOW THE WORLD
AND NO-ONE SEEMS TO BE WORRIED;
NONE SEEMS TO BE CARED.
BUT REMEMBER ONE THING—
EVERY COAL IS BORN TO BURN.
EVERY COAL IS BORN TO BE BURNED…
If I were the boy,
Like the one my screen
Loving the girl named Zerin.
I am the ‘Alienware’
And she is the pink ‘Sony vaio’.
I will send her beautiful screen-saver;
She would sing me a song.
Oh! Her adorable voice;
Let me be your rejoice.
May we fall in the same dust-bin
And I’ll kiss her back.
Oh! Her beautiful glossy one
Someone please stop me or I’ll begone.
She will not shiver;
I have my warmth.
She will not cry;
My strong body will hold her
If she dies;
Let me die before her.
Whence electrons will rest in peace
When we are of no use to them;
When they will throw us out;
Rain will fall.
And let it rain over me.
We’d not be remembered;
But I will sing for you
I will always be there for you…