River Teesta. Image credit - Wikipedia.org

SYMPHONY OF TEESTA
 
Dead centre of a rectangular skylight mingles with the crystal stream,
And soundlessly opens the portals of time.
Drenched murmurs delve deep to tear apart the cord,
Crawl into my brain creating the illusions
Like the vague shapes of my Geometry textbook.
I imagine of a primitive crave in cascading dream,
And some insomniac smoke tattering my coat.
I see a man from the forgotten time tugging his sleeve.
Resembling to some Ashwathama of my childhood dream,
He yells my name with sinister grin.
Soundlessly.
His shadow floats on the Teesta’s stream.
Moving with untamed fluidity,
With the perplexed mind,
‘Sick with desire.’
Can river wash off stains?
The shallow stream of water that descends to the depth of earth
May flow within my veins.
 
 
SOJOURN AT AN UNKNOWN CITY
 
Like the voices in a radio,
Mobs’ howl exposes the supernatural.
Hiding his silver teaspoon.
Trying to calculate these confused images with some sacred trigonometry
The cloud losing its way casting the darkness in the verse.
As if mildly absconded to the grave.
And stepped into the like the caged bird or winter fire.
Isobars poised against the sky are torn with responsibility.
A prolonged shame bigger than the city of joy,
Frozen over the pretty weird stuffs.
Then in a small space
I realized the death before retreating to dust.
 
 
DEVDASI - THE DANCE OF DESIRE
 
She danced with a sinister rhythm,
Accompanying the wrath of trishul.
The ray that submerged in the sky,
Hanged in her earring pierced with persistence.
In her vision mingled with shacked reality,
She roamed in some unknown forests,
Or walked through an unknown endless passage
Fragmentally lit by the mysterious apertures,
Perceiving the faint melody amidst the oppressive voids,
Dissolving more and more into the shadows.
When the dim light of oil lamps lit the dark contours of the gigantic temple,
She howled,
Prayed
cried
Fearing reincarnation,
Sensing the curse of beauty may return like a refrain.
And...
Succumbed to silence.
 
The dark desires crawled into her nightmare,
And like the sand near the stormy cloud,
Carnal poison flowed through her vein
Intoxicating her veil.
She danced with the sodden desires,
Slowly curbing herself
Like the stream that erodes mountain.
Hoping to turn the black stone she married,
She danced with desire,
Waiting for the death or rain.
 
 
COLLEGE STREET AT MIDNIGHT
 
The busy street dies slowly at midnight,
The last 44/A reminds the time,
Then the clock strikes one o’clock and nine.
The smirks in hoardings become ironic.
The unadorned Bengali poems die in some ancient yellow pages
Decorating the footpath
Make the circle with the last blood of your vein,
And promise solitude with utmost pain.
Once hunger burned in history.
The mobs crossed this street hungry for bones like a dog.
Consuming darkness.
Still the scent of old books appalled me,
Tore me like a tattered cloth
The dripping memory haze the glass
Appalling crowds passing me
Sense the rotten core spreading within me.
The void works like some anaesthetic.
The face in the posters grinning.
The letters infinitely changing into transient words
Does it sound anxious?
Silence creates margin mingling with the indexes in the roads.
The traffic lights ensnare the persistent strangers.