Wednesday, 30 November 2011

I still wait for you

I still wait for you,
in my soundless sleep
in my fragile body
where you have spread
the most excessive breaths
it still hurts in those wild places
it still hurts in those helpless spaces
engrossed in futility
engulfed in pain
Impose on me
your feminine touch
till I have had enough of you

I still wait for you

Wednesday, 23 November 2011

Tomar chobee amaar mone bosche ache

তোমার ছবি আমার মনে বসে আছে
কথায় কথায়  তোমার নাম
যাকে চিনিনা জানিনা দেখিনি
তার জন্যেই আমার চোখের জলের  দম

এক বার এসে যাও আমার বাড়ি তে
আমার মনের ঘরে দেখে যাও
তোমার জন্যে আমি প্রাণ ভাসিয়ে দেব
তোমার জন্যে ধ্যান

আমার মন ছুটে  বেড়ায় 
তোমার আওয়াজ  শোনার জন্যে
আমার চোখের দিকে তাকিয়ে দেখো
পাবে তুমি বহু দিনের প্রেম
বহু দিনের কথা
তোমার কথা
আমার বুকে লুকিয়ে আছে 

তোমার চোখের দৃষ্টি
তোমার ছবি আমার মনে বসে আছে


Monday, 21 November 2011


I scream of shame,
I scream of obstinate discord
In fleeting,to divulge
fruitless medley of sensational voices
from here to comprehend
my assets
I entreat you
enunciate my name
a glint of kisses on my palm
enunciate my name
beautify the ancient
recondition my desires
in a sleepless city
to turn me
into dawn

Saturday, 19 November 2011

To an erratic extent.........................

I thought of you yesterday.I thought of you today.I will think of you tomorrow.
To an erratic extent.
Every morning I wake up,its your face I want to see.
Every night my body is warm with desire,
for that one call,that one smile,that one kiss
that one"You are mine"
I want to belong somewhere
to someone's soul
to complete someone.
I dream of you now.
Your fertile hands,
Your fertile body,
like soils,valleys
the back of your neck
and your sonorous voice..................

I dont want to count till I breathe your name
To an erratic extent

I know you think of me
I too wonder who you are
And when I see you for the first time
I will never let you go away ..............................

Friday, 18 November 2011

To my viewers.........................


All I want to say is a thank you to all my viewers.

I have some audience from United States and Russia.

If I could post "smutty" content on my blog,I would :)
But now is not the time for me.I have been writing for a while now and I have found it to be very liberating.I am still learning.

Watch out for more of me ...................

Cheers !!

Thursday, 17 November 2011

Tears pierce you.....................

Tears pierce you
like the fluvial enmeshed
to feign the supressed divine
when your wings envelope my depths
where I dismay

I am not there as yet
gaping in the hollowness
but you might bring me
those perfervid corners
to arouse
to fondle
till I give up
as in a chattel who groans
in the vague
to ardous ties

Tuesday, 15 November 2011

Lemon my life,squeezed with love,I mix some rouge,to fly like a dove

I want to be influenced by you.Stronger than I influenced you.

My life is a lemon.Lets squeeze it.Dessicate it.Lick our fingers.Suck the curves of our palms.Indelicately and bleakly photograph those errors, till we photoshop our lives.
Mine and Your's.
Emphasize,predominate.The minds that would ameliorate us.Our blazing personalities.
For the past is already enshrined,where we stand like scruffy teenagers who formulate homemade theories of victory.Indefinable and indecisively cavalier,who recriminate.Walking along the precarious road where one dies a false death and wins a false victory.

To playing a charade from now to ever again?

Baby its you and me.

Cheers !!

Saturday, 12 November 2011

Love from Lalaland

I wish you come back to me,soon,so I could fall in love again.
Come revive me............................



Wednesday, 9 November 2011

Tapping the bare of your skin........................

Tapping the bare of your skin,
into imbecile circles
that would transfuse
the oppressed
into excessive imploration
my hand would intertwine with yours
the untouched
where our inane
would shriek pleasure
and wet our eyes
through a nubile
through a puerile

Tuesday, 8 November 2011

When I write..................

I looked at my parent's old photo album reminiscing the wonderful times that creep in the very minute mellowed moments of existence.I looked at my mom's face now.Still the same.My parents.Just grown up.I think of my pictures.Some that I have deleted.Some that I have kept.Some that I would want someone to see.Some that are only for me.I look at other girls my age.I talk to other guys.Arent we all the same?Just the way we look at things.Just the way we feel?So what makes us different?
I dont know.....................
I would call them mine.They who stand out from the crowd through their honest manoeuvres.They who come to me ,they who make me safe and beautiful.This one time in my life I would want to rule completely and honestly and shed tears out of laughter.Away from the disfunctional times,the ruthless hours and unsafe nights.Away from the pretentious times, when I would agree that violence,men and romance aren't all that related.Like a music that would seep through the core of my heart and put off the heated battles that I fought with myself .And all those cool dead nights that would answers my prayers through these bright afternoons,when I try and convinvce myself.When I write.

Am I to blame?
For all that happened in my life?

Am I to feel happy for all my achievements?

I am not sure.But I have lost all precacious thoughts.I have no regrets.

Just the evil that I convince to instrument,so I could vent.Vent all my superstitions and inhibitions.Like a hole in a dirty moral cover.

Now is the beginning of new times.
Now is the beginning of thinking anew.
Its the new ME!

Saturday, 5 November 2011

Dirty Hands

I run across the seas
and sodomizing
a long awaited dream
of the tempest
when I am arrested,
my hands are chained
with yours and I turn pale

You spoil my color,
You spoil my dream
crying a ruthlless supposition
for my speechless rupture
a noxious parameter
my sanity,disputable
loses to
the discursive,
the belief

Friday, 4 November 2011

Je marche dans une terre de feuilles seches

Je marche dans une terre de feuilles seches,
englouti dans la victoire,
ou j'avais ecrit des histoires d'amour
dans les quartiers solitaire du coeur

Soudain,une tristesse s'empara de moi
quand votre visage perd de son importance

Mon rire m'a gueri
Nouveau temp m'a gueri

Je suis libre
Je suis libre aujourd'hui

Thursday, 3 November 2011

I dream of the night you baked me a pie

Is life a hollow sphere?
like sweet inspirations
from life
a baby making a Chagall
all those causeries that come to the point of nothing
all those words we dont remember reading...........

I would want to make love to him,
a person who talks nonsense for hours,
a person who doesnt know what he is talking about,
a person who loves and lets love come his way,

I would want to feel nothing,
to feel like I am just born,
like the child talking of the known
like people talking and caring
but only the not so good emotions
coming my way

I would run away with a beautiful girl,
just love till she is scared,
O I would love to play a man for a while

I would then turn into
a scarlet woman`
and my face would be so synonymous
around the globe

I would return home everyday to see my man,
leave notes on the floor,on the table,
to bake me a wonderful pie.....................

I guess apple pie.

I dont like apples,
but I would change for him.

I would wake for hours,
days and nights
just to hear him talk
just a call
My pillow would be wet with tears
and my eyes swallowed and tired 
Yes I would  fall in love.................

Just like the song "Truely,madly,deeply"

I would strum the guitar every night,
It would never be a charade?
I dont know....................

I dont want to have fun,
I just want to get busy,
with nature.....................

like  2+2=4?

like is the sky blue?

like Am I sane?

or am I human?

peut-etre une vie qui n'est pas pragmatique

I want to collect those lentils for my kindergarten project,
come running to ma for arhar,moong,chole and so on................

and dance those bollywood numbers,
singing Dil toh pagal hai for hours....................
and dreaming about a fairytale ending
to my kind of bollywood story

and never think about life,

Just find a space .....

writing histories
of how people grew up
emptying bottles of vin rouge..............................

I am not looking back,
My life is small................................

Just that kid

Who is too ignorant to be scared !