I always love the book that I'm not reading. I often end up loving summer during winter. I fancy Bach's playfulness when I am in the company of Beethoven. It is not the archetypal yearning for the distant. It is just extending the present to the possible...

It all began with a storm and I was catapulted right into it. The storm was beautiful, loving and impeccably particular in inflicting the optimal pain onto me. Did I then realise how it imperceptibly embraced me eventually becoming a part of my being? 

Did I agree to continue to be known with reference to that storm or as one who could tame it with poise and characteristic blitheness?

mind please...

Often the mortals read words emanating from mind as ones from the heart. Mind assumes the colour of its surround whereas heart illumines whatever it shines one. Heart can never step into dark. Mind can. Mind does. Mind plays.

But mind yields when this awareness steps in - asking to let heart subdue mind.

Mistrusting the very faculty of trust...

reflection...

The city is as varying as Proteus.

It is not my nativity that is talking but an honest and well-preserved passivity critically needed to touch the core of Kolkata...a city perennially steeped in her snobbish urbanity yet unbendingly reluctant to let go of her past. She harbours an undying dichotomy - debased and celebrated alike over the years on countless forums, that has somehow been reassuring, validating and reaffirming as much her intellectual relevance as longevity in years yet to unfold. I do not, in all sincerity, intend to add to the ever-swelling body of literature raised to her. I intend to repeat that I love her!

Glorifying some aspect of Kolkata would decidedly shut one out of the overwhelming diversity she offers. It is a city that magically turns the humdrum into sublime and vice versa...often deluding the nonplussed spectator to the point of turning irreversibly apathetic to her resilient beauty. Kolkata is more discriminating than otherwise. Only the sluggish can see her...happily letting her unfold to allow the rare glimpse of an ageless endearing heart. So go slow...and enjoy the ride!

Muhurto...

Muhurto'ra komte thake
Tophat'ra jaye bere
Muhurto'ra jomte thake
Dekhi pichon phire
Muhurto'ra kothaye chilo
Elo hothath kaache
Bujhte pari ora sobai
Chupti kore aache...

Ekta shokal...

Ekta shokal cholche kaal theke
Odekha neel onekta gaye mekhe
Ekta shokal laagche khub bhalo
Rod'ta kom onek ta tai alo
Ekta shokal onek kotha aane
Kichu'ta mone baki'ta tai prane
Ekta shokal koruk elomelo
Hoyeto tai shobur kore elo...