Mesmerising ...

Dance with me O Life!
Hop, tango, ballet, jazz
and salsa with me.
Embrace me
with your gentle gossamer twine,
connecting me,
relating me,
let us begin our myriad dances
in your sweet symphony,
some to lull, some to lure.
Life! you carve
a deep whirling pattern
of feelings
and enchantment,
orchestrating me with your essence,
making me swirl in passion
with every beat

of your struggles and premonitions,
lifting me high
in your spectrum of challenges.
Pulling me towards you
in a tight grip of jive,
inspiring me in a stance
beyond parochial existence
I strive.
Rock me and roll me
out of all that is inane,
gain me in a perfect pirouette,
in a hula and a hustle
or a shimmy and a shuffle,
twirl and twist me
at your every clasp and cuddle.
Waltz me across the rattle and hoot,
hold me as I volta beyond
the shabby and the soot.
Let's slow dance when the morning yawns,
and a cha cha when innocence dawns,
a true blue in a hypnotizing twilight
and a mambo and fox trot
when it rains or the day is bright!
Drape me on your eyelashes like a dream,
keep me on your lips like whispers
as a mountain stream.
Dance with me O life
do not be coy!
Let me tap and turn
and shake and swirl
mingling in a horizon of joy.
Let us unite in a popping
and share our sorrows,
with you I will rumba
and give you my joy of tomorrow.
Turning around and around
Feeling dizzy yet keeping pace
I let go;
rotating and spinning,
smiling and grinning
losing myself to your music
from ethnic to techno!
The fear breaks off
and I start floating away.
Swishing my hips and
coiling my waist
I give in to the powerful sway.
I dance towards your nexus,
raising my hands to the sky
I merge in you,
losing myself in your vibrant echo,
You kiss me like a soft satin silk
urging me more and forever
towards an even stronger
upbeat crescendo.

poems ...

And april is no more the cruellest month,
for it breeds lilacs mixing memory and desire,
resisting irresistibly everything that is sterile and barren,
nurturing my tryst with poesy with a soothing rainfall.

The gap between my pen and paper has diminished now.
My poems are restless these days.
They waft in my breath and float in my stream
waiting to be poured like a melodious drizzle.
I have covered the distance between my wounds and my words;
my entourage has conquered the space in between;
a space that has throbbed like an uncut vein for so long,
has now reached an oneness with the
sillouhette of rhymes and assonance.

April isn't the cruellest month anymore.....
Now, my poems are home where we stay together.
I can feel the creases and imprints of you
among my lines and around the curves of my words.
I listen to your whispers along my imageries.
You dwell in my lyrics and in my odes,
you caresses the crevices in between my lines, and
I embellish my verse with your smile.

And april is no more the cruellest month,
for it breeds lilacs mixing memory and desire,
resisting irresistibly everything that is sterile and barren,
nurturing my tryst with poesy with a soothing rainfall.
Now I am alive again.

Nuptials ....

Two solitary beings in forlorn existence
falling into an easy pattern
of fragile empty vows.
The usual habit of trying to make a square
yet each time it turns out to be a funny pentagon
with uneven protruded angles!
Moonlight trickles down in bits and pieces
through the stained glass windows.
The white bed sheet neatly tucked in
and the problems and tears are tucked in too
with creases neatly done away into solitude.
Pillows are now effective barriers.
Two people
stranded …
superfluous …..
on polar ends
still continuing!

in search of identity ....

The mirror in my room isn’t just the same anymore!
Now it has many faces,
myriad visages and countenances.
They all stare back;
some with the innocence of an autumnal rainfall,
some as bleak and pale as the opaque moon,
a few as uncertain as an overcast sky,
yet another hissing bright like serpent eyes,
and one, ghostly and shadowy looming from behind,
one more perched in a corner
like an inky frozen wave of a thick dark ocean.

Faces that the mirror bury within
are at times natural and at another,
masks slapped upon so hard
that it fastens undying.
My mirror has hands too!
Several hands of known, unknown memories
of half-baked dreams and half-heart efforts
that keep strangulating my soul!

Yet on a fertile rainy day
those broken reflections are like
powder showers of pastel blue color
or may be like a moon-washed drizzle
of an unforgettable dusk,
making me sob for the lost innocence.

They create a halo around me
like the haze of several pin points of fire flies,
and often, through those fragments
a faint echo of old melodies
flow down through the alley of the past,
beacons and then retreats again!

Then, time and again,
the mirror would disintegrate
and fall apart and splinter all around,
like a broken relationship
and I will struggle tiptoeing around the house!


The mirror is dead long ago!
Half of her died the day she tried to search for love
and the other half perished with her efforts to belong.
Yet it is funny how
her stubborn wild mind keeps trying to abscond
from her brittle existence that is
as fragile as promises and hope,
and persists searching for her authentic face
and lurks to live as if she’s immortal!

I love to talk - 6

Vanity of vocabulary ...

This is a weird dilemma that I have faced since last 20 years now; to be more specific since the time I have graduated from Calcutta University with an honors in English Literature. Things became worse after my post graduation. People would come up to me and ask the meanings of random English words. And incase I fail to answer readily there would always be a leer that conveys – “and I thought you have done your M.A. in English???!!!” I honestly feel so murderous when people ask me meanings of words indiscriminately and I am supposed to have them on my fingertips, or may be my tongue tip just because I have studied and taught English. Soon their derisive tone starts – “and don't you TEACH English??” And invariably, I would end up feeling damn guilty and with an expression of a crestfallen soul I would start cursing myself, thinking all these years of my studies have really gone to a waste bin, and would scurry away like a dirty mouse!

So, I often wonder if it is possible to know just anything and everything about a language and its vocabulary. Is it really feasible to have 100% vocabulary of a particular language, even if it is ones mother tongue? To my utter dismay and shame I realize that I do not know so many words that exist in Bengali which happens to be my mother tongue! :-(

a few tongue twisters and head - reeling read for you ---- (gathered from different websites)

1. Honorificabilitudinitatibus

This word has 27 letters which appears in Love’s Labour’s Lost, Act V, Scene I, which means “invincible glorious” or “Honorableness.”
2. Antidisestablishmentarianism

This is the best known long word which has 28 letters. It means “opposition to the withdrawal of state support or recognition from an established church, esp. the Anglican Church in 19th-century England” as explained in Dictionary.com.

3. Floccinauccinihilipilification

This 30- letter-word is a non-scientific English word and it appears in the first edition of the Oxford English Dictionary.” It means “act or habit to deny the value of some particular things” but some dictionaries translate it as “the act of considering something to be worthless.”

4. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

This 34-letter word appears in the Oxford English Dictionary. It is a word specifically created for a song in the movie Mary Poppins until its film version of the musical was popular enough that everyone got to know this word.

5. Hepaticocholangiocholecystenterostomies

This 39-letter long is the longest word found in Gould’s Medical Dictionary. It is a surgical terminology, which refers to surgical creation of a connection between the gall bladder and a hepatic duct and between the intestine and the gall bladder.

6. Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis

This 45-letter long word is the longest word found in dictionaries. According to the eighth edition of Webster dictionary, it means, “pneumoconiosis disease caused by inhaling small particles of quartzite.” This is the scientific name for a coal miner’s disease, which is particularly caused by breathing in particles of siliceous volcanic dust. It is the lung disease that miners in Africa came down with from getting silicon silvers in their lungs.

7. Antipericatametaanaparcircumvolutiorectumgustpoops

This word has 50 letters. There is a display of one French writer’s ancient story in a library shelf, with this long Englishword as its book title.

8. Osseocaynisanguineoviscericartilagininervomedullary

This word has 51 letters. It is a terminology related to an anatomy. It appeared in a novel called “Headlong Hall” written by an English writer, 1785-1866.

9. Aequeosalinocalcalinoceraceoaluminosocupreovitriolic

This word is at 52 letters, describing the spa water at Bath, England. It was invented by the British Medical author, Dr. Edward Strother, 1675-1737.

9.Bababadalgharaghtakamminarronnkonnbronntonnerronntuonnthunntrovarr-hounawnskawntoohoohoordenenthurnuk

This word has 100 letters. It appeared in the book titled “Finnegan wake” written by Irish author, Andean James Joyce, 1882- 1942. This word refers to the downfall of Adam and Eve.

Life, I still live you ...

 An invisible worm destroyed a rose.

It was the night of death.

A strange quietness filled every hole
and every gap of the darkness,

the walls and windows were yawning
and stretching in boredom,

and the roof reflected an anxiety of
an ominous, menacing end.

An end, 
so grotesque and murderous in itself;

I heard a sudden howl of a dog, ugly,

splitting the bizarre silence of the night

and a frantic scurrying and scuttling

of the mouse to escape a hungry jawline;

the moon was opaque and pale, divided into pieces

and the stars were some ugly wounds oozing out puss.

 that night

her soul was killed fragment by fragment

 hopes and dreams,
 sobbing
 in an abortive attempt to soar higher,

against her nameless mistakes 
and faceless errors

fell headlong on the ground

like a wounded bird whose wings were hacked.

Then why is it that the dew drops
still kiss the morning fragrance?

Why does she still nurture an unborn in her womb?

Why does she still feels as white and chaste as a lily?

No thorn or threat can stain her existence,

the spring still hides its beauty for her and

the buds still blossom and grow.

Now she sleeps peacefully tucking the lyrics

of her innocence and experience inside her heart;

she stands higher and confront the brutal eyes;

they ask her to weep in woe of death and misery

yet she sings and dances and is merry,

 the world could do her no injury.

O Mother earth! do not weep for her any more

she wont escape in your bosom sulking, as before

today she has conquered death,

now, she rises lofty from her grave and aspires.

 ... posting it for poetry potluck ... for the theme 'survival'
http://jinglepoetry.blogspot.com/2011/04/poetry-potluck-evolution-environment.html

for you my love ....

That night has come again
tiptoeing in the silence
without consent,
a morbid barren storm
ransacking existence
invading your soul
in a nameless cruelty.
But among disappointments
I stand firm beside you
a companion like a bunyan tree
full of promises
to take you in my arms
keeping you safe from
fret and futile of the earth.

I hear the voice of your eyes
harassed and hassled
among countless known
and unknown faces,
your dreams crowded
with ice cold blames
of identified errors and
faceless mistakes of the past
climbing down the memory lane,
suffocating the future
in an anonymous panic
and among collapses
I stand firm beside you
a mother with her reassurance
nourishing you with nectar
to protect you for ever
from worries and wantons of the earth.

I feel the bitterness
of your existence
on your tongue struggling to escape,
your essence besieged and plagued

in a tiring effort of
justifying and convincing,
now the stars in this night
appear as ugly scars in the sky
your fatigued mind searches vainly for
same sensuous softness of the moonbeam
yet among failures
I stand firm beside you
a wife with all her faith
to hold your hand
till death does us apart.


That night has come again
With its uncanny fear
And an unknown trepidation,
but you are not alone anymore
for I stand firm beside you
with all my love
to make you feel the lost rainfall
to bring back the glitter in you
as we will together get drenched
in a wild whispering zephyr.

Lean on me, my love
droplet by droplet merge within me
see the changes of seasons in my eyes
believe the glimmer of hope in my smile
I will destroy all odds
devastate all difficulties
annihilate all sorrows
I will turn the holes on a dark sky
into glistening promising stars
I will add the halves and make
a full flushing moon,
with you, I will
create a nexus of love and warmth
which together we will name as LIFE!