And I just wish you were still here

the enigma of my dreams,
a friend or so it seems,
not just a fried far more dear,
and i just wish you were still here.

even though you're a call away
i cant meet you even today
not just today but about a year
and i just wish you were still here.

there's so much inside my head
things that i haven't said
its like we're stuck on first gear
and i just wish you were still here.

even though we said we'd keep in touch
we don't seem to talk that much
a relationship about to fade or so i fear
and i just wish you were still here.

The witch and the children.

there's a house made of chocolate,
candy, gum and vanilla swirls.
and there lives a witch and her pet
attracting little boys and girls.

she disguises herself as a princess
and invites children into her hut
who willingly enter the mess.
after which she locks the door shut.

once trapped she puts them in cages
where they realize that she's cheating.
and she makes the soup and gauges
if the boys are big enough for eating.

she drool's at the sight of their meat.
while the little girl runs and cooks,
to fatten up the boys for her to eat.
as she strokes her cat and looks.

she finds boys finger licking good
and the girls get continuous lickings
she does what any witch would
exploits children with her trickings.

so children be aware of such freaks,
never even go near their door.
they might just be pinching cheeks,
but are definitely looking for more.

Six

six notes, glide down the floor.
heads turn and the dancing slows.
six notes, bow down at the door,
a pause. and again the dancing flows.
six inch heels, brand new ferrari red.
heart shaped lips, cascading hair,
six shots down, a man is dead.
the dancing stops and now they stare.
six six six on her left breast,
the most powerful person in the room,
six bullets exit through his chest.
the bride has killed the groom.

I ask out of curiosity.

why doesn't time go by slowly?
why does everything have to go by so fast?
why can't we see the future?
why do we contemplate on the past?

why do so many people need to lose,
for someone to win?
why does everyone have an excuse?
why is sloth considered a sin?

why are mothers always screaming?
why do we stop dreaming?
whats the difference between a dream and a nightmare?
why is life always considered unfair?

and just to make his parents proud,
why is a child pushed into a rat race?
and forced to become just another face,
that'll never stand out in a crowd...

More to Red than Roses

two years ago there two brothers, adi and bhoomi. adi lived in kolkata and bhoomi was in america. the younger brother was in America earning big bucks while adi sat in his home town trying to whitewash a wall. trying to whitewash a red wall. but red runs deep and white can never wipe out red or so claimed my art teacher.

there's a revolution and the revolutionary has been exiled to a land of prosperity and riches. while his mentor struggles past his prime to cover tracks that run deep. dead silence, and then death itself. long ago, long lost, i don't miss you. all i lost was a dream while you ran away to plastic surgery and closet racism. you were a brother to me and you left me behind. i don't blame you, it wasn't your fault. its that i need someone to talk to, some to tell. a friend a brother any who'll understand, anyone who cares, forget me not. I'll leave but not alone for my legacy shall follow me into the dark.

3:30am, tuesday, april 7th.

two boys sneak into the party office. black merges into black as the whites of their eyes contrast with the surroundings. darkness, fear, prayer, courage, lights, capture. two boys still walk the streets of darkness in dark clothes but their aren't any party offices or hot meals at home. just a void a big one, a black one and you, lost forever. the mastermind the brother of a famous rebel, his name is adi. exiled for life, a death sentence was not even considered, cowardice. bhoomi goes deeper underground.

7:10pm, thursday, september 24th.

party activist jayanto bondopadhay son of a respected party leader shri shri L.M. bandee, found dead. the walls are changing colours in a para where i used to play cricket once. there are party symbols and graffiti on the walls still, but its more red than anything else. i've lost my star right arm spin bowler, my best friend, thirty six friends and a brother. i lost my brother to consumerism but point is that now he's gone, forever "once you go black you never go back". i miss you.

5:00pm, monday, july 12th.

both sides have suffered a lot. our hands are steeped in red but we will not let them change the colour of our heart. we are rebels till death, and this is the end my friend the end, this is the end. elections are coming arround and there's only one candidate.

sir,
i'm sorry, childhood dreams lead to a path astray. i don't hate you as much as i used to yesterday but my days are numbered and my dream to far from complete. i tried, but once when blood boils there is steam. i'm sorry i'm sure you'll find a way to forget me. the reason i write this letter is to tell you that you spared my brother and i will hate you forever for that. i would rather him dead than an automaton on your side. he was my hero and successor and you broke him. you are the greater man and i do not wish to compete hence i had your son dispatched before he could open his mouth. you have killed and so have i but atleast i admit to my crimes making me the hero of the people. you hide behind your tall walls and foreign sponsorships but mark my words death is a leveller. death comes to all and your days are numbered as well.

your shadow,
bhoomi.



3:30am tuesday, april 12th.

black merges with black. i've lost. the darkness surges in. it caresses me out. outside, light,capture. i miss you not my brother, tke care and one day you will remember the streets steeped with blood and party propaganda. cricket matches and childhood rivalry. you won and you lost. chose a path and hate yourself for it. cowards die more than once.