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The lost Sun !!

You are gone!  Far even before I could imagine... Just one moment you were in my arms We both wading through the knee deep water.... We talking of the tenga masor anja... And the next moment you are gone... Disappeared, slipping out of my hands... Before I could recollect anything.... You were just washed away!!! Wailing, screaming, pleading, hoping that I your father would save you. ... But I so helpless... Desperately hunting every drain... Searching for you ...day and night... Madness overpowered me... I could think of nothing my son... Three days later... I hold you back in my arms... This time wrapping in a white shroud... I wail, I wail and I wail... I don't know how I shall survive without you... My son...!!!

Nostalgia

As I try to sleep in the comforts of the airconditioner I reminiscence the good old days, Days when the sultry summer nights would be so different. Our villa like house on the foothills of the great Nilachal was very spacious and had ample fruit bearing trees along with different varients of the hibiscus- a typical Bengali household who worships Goddess Kali.  The darkness on a night when electricity would be gone for hours and we would be sitting outside our houses.  Me scared to hell of ghosts, leopards or snakes venturing in the darkness.. Would always carry the biggest torchlight and a stick. I remember how all four of us - My parents and my brother including me would watch the fireflies and listen to the sounds of some wild insects.  Dad and Mom would share stories of their childhood, of our grandparents, their hardwork and struggles, of the Indo- China war when they were kids. The Assam Agitation, the struggle and success stories of their job hunts and so more. Mom would be carry

Inferno

They were sobbing.. Fear writ all over their faces Clung on to her hands They don't want to go back Luxury they didn't want The shelter was their solace  They loved this place There lived a demon and a demoness Who ruined their childhood They were merely four  Yet life seemed dreadful! Showpieces they were for the society Care, love and affection were just exhibits Their souls were wretched and miserable They wanted to break free  The shackles of bondage and terror They cried their heart out... Sometimes for hours .... Scorching sun burning their tiny bodies The hot iron burning their thighs The piercing needles piercing their backs One day life changed Someone saw their plight And decided to take the might Fought for their right And gave the tormentors tight Social prestige down the drain  They now rot in jail But ... The fear is still intact The future as unpredictable as before They have a home Which isn't a home.  They still feel it is a safe haven! Atleast the infernos

Fantasia!

I wake up wondering ... Life is beautiful!  The mist in the dawning air The tiny droplets of dew on my window panes The glimmering sunlight  Radiates a warmth in the air I snuggle in the cosy couch Somewhere far, a peacock calls I listen in amazement. And the pigeons coo in my balcony May be they are talking sweet nothing's! The aroma of strong coffee  Makes me nostalgic  Oh! how I love my holidays  My coffee, books and music! 

Just You!

You are far! Too far now..!! Don't know what it was..but Just the thought of YOU Leaves behind a Smile ... Creates a thousand ripples My heartbeat paces up.. Butterflies in my stomach.. An unending desire  Just to hold your hands Once.. And maybe give you a Hug.. And the Parting Kiss.. I know I am no longer a teenager To fall in love but... Can we stop falling in love? You never Knew.. Will never Know.. Because the Ripples remained intact Within Me...just like a sweet Dream  A beautiful Memory of your Smiles 😊

Sometimes!!

Sometimes... Sometimes it so happens That you admire someone The way they treat you! Care for you or  Maybe... But ...

Destiny!

The fragrance of the lilies from the beautiful manicured garden of Ankita was soothing the wreaking nerves of Anjan. It had been an unusually busy week for him with erratic work hours, missed schedules, impromptu meetings and obviously sleepless, worrisome nights.  Anjan reclined and just looked out of the balcony thinking, 'Who says money can't buy you happiness?' He recollected how he came to the city with just a pair of clothes and a thousand rupees with mighty dreams in his beaming eyes.  It was a Sunday, a bright, beautiful day and Anjan decided to spend the day with his family. He turned his phone to the flight mode and came to the bed to cuddle his heartbeat, his son Veda who was sleeping peacefully unaware of the chaos the world outside was going through.  Anjan looked at his son's face, smiled and felt contented. For him life was the most beautiful in the company of his son. The tiny fingers just clinging on to him, the expectant eyes longing for company and pl