"Eternal Sonatas..."

The Journey--31st dec05

Evening dawns, with signs of darkness all around,
Everyone rushes to home, as dust flies with gay abound,
He sits, watching the din, and in the dusts he sees,
One smoggy morn, with haziness scattered to the lees..
His strides were fast,regaled, joyous he's in the Mind--
Unfazed time moves on, The World That day was unkind.

His Angel waits somewhere, the thoughts invoked strength.
So, confronting dark, he scurries, dwelling on "Divine Wealth",
hazards in the way ; with Thirst in Eyes he forged--he cared least,
Shrugging the toils, he stormed nearer.... and nearer-to his Eyefeast-
lonely soul wails often, he knows when she's not there,
separation lurks.yet he bears oodles of love for her share..

Craving with jitters to see hER, for once and who knows -For ever--
His frisson was unbound, as She came down Tiptoe-one stair to the other..
with fetching smile, godly beauty, and face sparkling with gaiety,
piercing his soul, His Angel stood, unflagging and Mighty..
Demure sweet, The princess is here, Hassles faded in dismay--
Such is The Charm of love-the one Glimpse Took It all away.

Most beautious thaa the word'Beauty' could be--
She's gracious, charming , as far as his Eyes could see,
the Black attire was regal that the princess, then wear,
her face lit thousand candles,as lasiness pure spilled over,.
he touched beauty in the eyes, of rainbow Dreams--
The junoesque moment took him to Eternity , it seems .

Chiselled in the heart, is the Image of love , till day--
he still hopes the Divine Entity, one day may pass this way.
he waits, and he waits, till roads bear a look desolate ,
she may come anytime, tiptoe tiptoe, though not so late.

Indrajit ghosal.

A Whore's Account

"A girl of seven and ten I am, a class nine drop-out,
Holding hands of one kind soul, did i come--
here- to study, earn a penny, and li'l did I doubt,
Kind soul turned unkind, packed me off for Lumpsome."

"Getting clients is easy, They ogle me with dreadful sight
hefty amountys they pay-some fpor an hr, some for a Night..
My eyes i close every time they strip me naked
they turn my slave, quenching carnal desires sacred.."

"Nobody i love, none love me: the whole truth i say;
I make love ,i've mastered that
losing myself in filtyhy town of decay"
"I cried many times before, when in those horror days
they ripped me like greyhounds, under the Lustful gaze"

""run, Ritu, run"-said someone, I ran as fast as I could
to save the leftover grace(if any) , donning my best suit"
"In the laps of leching hands i fell, As I saw the setting sun--
I remain lost ever since: The race at last, Destiny won"

"Back home they call me," come Beta for Durga pujas,
to see you we Die"
"My dera fellows, A living corpse like me, today.....
doesn't even cry.."
"Your Maa, you worship and immerse to see her soon,
Call me not.A Whore I am in the dark lanes,
of shallow sky,without the Moon"

"to This pariah , Untouched comes swarms of Good Men,
henpecked, loyal to wives (ohh such a Plain Jane they remain!!)
The honest characters worship me , with disgust and lust within,,
In pitch blackness, with playful words,Hush--they shouldn't be seen"

"same are all Men--i've seen them all
heartless, spiteful, towards,"wreath of eden" they crawl..
know not they what Love is , nor do i,
Hordes, barbarians- they love flesh
sadists -They are "Man"--can you deny?"

" but , one nice guy , one day a promise he made-
'i'll marry you, if you leave this shit', so he said

"Seven days more for the contract, then I am done-- "
Said the Masseuir, (ehh, the whore!) with a voice mellowed--
"then towards life and joy, at last i"ll Run
A faint giggle i saw,
as tears of reaching the Unreachable mark flowed..

"Such accounts arewrapped in all alleys all corners,,
human we are: Life's Scorned, we remain often
fate's Unsung Mourners."
'
--------- Indrajit Ghosal ----

'Twas such a night..

Draped in conjurer's Robe, came the Night,,
Aroused was I , I jived to delight..
And we danced to sonorous Melody,,
That stars played above--'Twas such a sight..

The Moon blushed, as Her(the Night's) Face I touch,
And my hands played Symphony---First time such..
Stars above lit the earth for the Two,
swayed to the crooning Ballads, and Sonatas--a few,,

The Eyes I looked of the Nights , so Deep,,
Drunken I fall in Her Embrace,
in her blissful lap,, I did Sleep..

I saw Dewdrops onm Grass blades, In early Morn,
And paperboats floating amid rains to adorn,
Scared of Nights, I feared then---I recall---
My Beloved She's now, once and for all,,

Singing stars, Blushing Moon, Dazed in wonder,
Celebrating our Love , with loud claps of Thunder..
It Rained that day --When Night and I---
Holding arms, to Her Enigma land,, parting from
Earth,, we passed By...

A Prayer for The Enlightened!!

You get all my shares of happiness, and much more......
Of peace, of Bliss, of acme of success, May you soar,,
All, wishes, Unspoken, may Blossom, as each Rosepetal open,
Bouquets of fortune, May garnish your Life Joyridden,,

The Burdens of Pains----I'll carry thru' my life, and,,
And Even after That..
Guarding You form the Evils and Glooms,allying them
In My gritful tact,,
True turns Tapestry of dream, you weave,,, I wish,
as I end My Prayer..
And I don't want anyone,,I find you are there,,
with me,,,
Everywhere.

Indrajit Ghosal.

The Bard's Grievances

As Noon takes wings,,
Evening loiters nearby,,
As light fades with,
graduating darkness high,,

As bevy of beaus and beauties,,
smouldering with life passes by,,
despairing clouds embrace me,,
seeing all with a hollow sigh..

For, they all, of all shapes and hues,
bear someone Special in Arms,,
Smitten are some, flawed are some,,
some lost in fragrant charms..

Dining, hopping, preening, and so on,
when they look in each other's Eyes,
What they see,, a friend,, a love,,
an alter may be,, to adore them to skies,,

Of hopes, of rainbow streaks of life,,
of dreams they've seen, and unseen,,
Of life in all true colors,,of bounties,
hallowing their existential Reign..

A Bard,, remains a loner.. A Loner.
cutting away, in barren scapes,,
Staring Life, that stares back with smug,
of pity, pithy in dark drapes..

Evening leaves pall of gloom,
the sadness multiplies to see,,
The Bard in night's desolate Bed,
Wrapping vague sheets of misery..

The poor bard, merely asks, "Why"?
No answer,, and he hears, from somwhere,
a snobbish, hopeless deeep sigh..

To enslave Him, comes the Memories,,
Solitude lurks with puerile smile..
that says," Come in my Bosom, dear,
You've always been mine"

Hapless, yet defiant, I stand and pray,,
to Him, to retrieve my world,,
My days of halcyon,
to fend the Devils away..

"Am I a sinner, or a pariah,,
that you bereave me from Divine?
The hordes have one in their heart,,
why no Angel waits for Mine?"

then I hear, HeR Music, soulful,,
drenching Bard's dry soul within ..
My daily complain , fades away,,
With HER, I see, Heaven on Earth,,
Where I've always Been..

Indrajit Ghosal

Tears , thou can wait....

Tears, thou can wait, for yet you have Time,,
Unless i move far, and beyond, from The Rhyme..

Then , I would be undone, strings , vocals, would be disarmed
"What's wrong Master?" yell they all, aroused, , alarmed..
I said
"Rhymes would never be made,, you would never sound,
for , Destiny has Drifted, away,and around...."

His clutches, make life, hard,,my soul cries, but not I,,
When I feel my Paeans, midway drenched me dry....
Lost -of words-of my symphonies,, would I be maimed,,

My veins, ribs, my heart,, shall suffer the pain,
pains, That bring me to the same eternal lane..

Whereupon, I've rejoiced, jived with melody abandon,,,
today, it's empty, void, robbed in time's lexicon..

I still frantically search,,, get mad--I grope for my Sweetest rhyme..
When i fail,,Please grace me ----O you Tears sublime..

Indrajit Ghosal.
------------------my 2nd English composition ,written at mathura CCD
sitting in front of the system,, and typing .I didn't know what I was to write, but then
once I started,, every moment , I lived..... In the Murky Corridors Of Pathos...
time-1.45am(wee hrs),,, date--25 aug 05..

The 1st english one was written way back in 2002, in praise of Anuj
my hostelmate..I didn't preserve it... he lost it..still we hang around
together,, though it's rare, for time crunch...
copyright(c)2006 indrajit ghosal

My FootbaLL Team

Hail, My Football team's Here,,Let me Introduce--
Stars' sparks and gusto,, \that they infuse,,,
1
SAMMY---debatable inclusion in the team though--------(thanks to m**m*)
Our last line of agony(defence!!), the goalie.Oh No!!
Difficult was to find a watchman , under the bar,,
So , let there be him(!!), may the party not Mar..
7
Now LOMRI---Lethargic, often invisible,
yet a very potent chap ,
rises to occasion, occassionallly,,can bridge,,
the defence and midfield Gap..
craftsman in disguise,,, content being Lazy,,
Jus need his few toches,, rivals can go frenzy...
8
Defence looks composed,, RuGO'S there, with huge task ahead,,,
to care Sammy, his own job,, .ensure, ball supply not to fade,
poised, defiant, also overlaps with much of load,
can inspire in the lows , can even goad..
11
NENU---the ballplayer,striker, always on the roll,
Knack for long volleys, thru passes, coulkd even lead to goal,,
a cunning crafstman: but I say, Withdrawn forward,; let him be
to save the lil fellow,from deadly fowls, more freekicks to see..
9
ODO--my ace card, striker-so suave and agile,,
Quick dribbles, deadly turns, could sweat you to befuddle,,
Up there, and the Diego-clan is one poetry on song,,
sheer magic, sharp mind 1 hypnotic stike ,, we long..
10
and i am there, somewher in the middle,
overlooking every move, tactics and hurdle,,
somwhere, between, mid and forwrad, i may prosper,,
can even go down,, when SHammy, needs a breather(uffff).

here's The team, for you,, world seems our ground,'
every trophy's ours, every win is profound,,,
anyone, can Name this team,i am passing out now,,,
I have doen enough,, Christen this team,, anyhow..

Indrajit Ghosal..
my dream team,, my world of utopia,,
(nos indicate th jersey nos,,)

Where's thy name.....


Forgotten , they have their names,,
their Loved ones once, jostled to gain....
from books, from kins, from discourses umpteen,,
Alas! it wasn't worth the pain...
Spewing toddlers, li'l they knew then,
while mumbling words insane,,
A chunk of their growing years,,,
would bear a blatant mark of profane..

For,, CHHOTU---yes, that's they are called,
today, with utter, spite and disdain..
rebuked they are for "sinning".
the very sight would give hearts pain..

Poor, Shabby Minions, Riches' handyman,,
call them with disdain,, hate them...
ands A blank look is all they have,,
that begs question "Whers' gone My Name?"

Well, care noneth , what they think,,,
for the trashy idiots Chhotu,,,
serving teas to people coming in.,,
are the skill testing grounds,,
for abusing impromptu...

day in and out, buried in utensils, so many,
table cleaning, sweeping the place,,
Every eaterie has a Chotu Dear,,
burying their dreams in hollow case..

A life of brooms, coals, breathing dusts,,
in the lights of mockery and shame..
The Losers (of name!!!!!),,never thought,,
so early, to earn the Chotu fame..

Master's Slave, Mongrels for those passing by,,
blinking nerds, dressed down they are,,
by the "gentle species",by the wiseacres,,
the slurs leaving them high and dry....

First ray of flipping dawn , they greet,,,
with drooping eyes, and mind...
not even a few hours they slept,,
"IF only tHe dawn could
have been kind........."

The mother's Li'l kids have Grown,,
Untimely,, in a different picframe,,
The Bards mockery comes alive...
"what's there in a name?"

the dictators offer -- too much to bear,,
meagre rations,broken dreams,,
Masters , can severe the ugly heads,
at slightest flaw, it always seems..

look at the poor gentle herd,
the domestic timid,,
the purest of heart, unfelt, untouched,,
so what, if they remain ever vapid....

One day, cometh a new dawn,
i wish , for you all,, i pray,,,
Amid the debris,, you'll rise,,
with the sun, with a vibrant ray..

your names, you will retrive,
you will retrieve the honour, i say,,
god bless the hypocrit idiot flock,,
Light will beckon for you,,,,,,,,,
someday.

Indrajit Ghosal...

for all those chhotu's----quientessentially, found in entire dhabas, gumtis,of India
serving us in eateries, and helping us to detoxify our slurriness, slangs,
by hurling towrads them......A DUSTBIN for the smuggy , hostile, uneducated cultural
GENTELMEN, WHO SACRIFICE THEIR UGLY SIDES,, THROW AWAY THEIR
CURSES, to purify their system....
THis piece is with utmost contempt, disdain, for the educated sober bastards..( cant think of a better title,, ehhhh ....a better NAME)..

assuming the pitiful state of one 7-8 yrs kid, whose father, passed away,, probably in a blast,and his poignant, yet innocent questionings to his mother..His eagerness,, evokes sympathy, something worse than that,,,This insignificant Bard was all tears , while making this piece.it was 11th of sep, 1:06 am when I completed this Oeuvre,, and laid griefstricken, numbed for few hours."