Wednesday, 27 March 2013

টান

অনেক কষ্টে উড়তে শিখেছি , আর ভূলতে রাজী নই
শোনার খাচার আমেজ চাইনে , গোধূলী বেলাই শই 
রুপকথার  সেই  রাজকন্না থাক  রূপকথাতেই  তোলা 
ধুলোমাখাঈ  ভালো  আমি  ধুলোর  মাঝেই  রই
 
আকাশ  পানে  তাকিয়ে  আমি  খোলা  মাঠে  বেড়াই 
ভালো  তোমায়  লাগলো  যদি, নাই বা   নজর  ফেরাই 
একসাথে  কিছুটা  সময়, চাদের  আলোর  নীচে 
এসো  কিছুটা  পাই  মোরা ,কিছুটা  নাইবা  হারাই 
 
আবার  উঠে  নিজের  পথে  নিজের  স্বপ্নের  টানে 
বেরিয়ে  পরি  চলো  দুজনে  খুজতে  নিজের  মানে 
দেখা  হবে  আবার  কোনো  হারানো  রাস্তার  মোড়ে 
তুমি  চেনো  আমায় কবিতায়,আমি  চিনব  তোমায়  গানে 
 
আবার  অনেক  গল্প  হবে , কত  কথা  বলার  আছে  তোমায় 
কতো  ছেলেমানুষী  খেয়াল  বলোতো  আমার  মনে  ঘুরে  বেরায় 
তবে  শেসব  হবে  খোলা  বাতাসে,না  থাকবে  কোনো  বাধা 
এমন  ভাবেই  ধরা  দেবো  মোরা ,কার  সাধ্যি  এ  বাধন  ছাড়ায় 

Tuesday, 12 March 2013

Poetry Immortal

I wonder what I can share,but my poetry
For the rest is all a lie
Someday I'll perish wilh all I possess
Yet the soul will never die...
The soul is where the verses reside
Like a sailor's love for the sea
Like devotion adorns the chants in a temple
And sweet nectar drives the bee.
Like an infuriated couple kisses at night
Strange love guarding the fragile ties
Like a peacock's mirth to dance in the rain
A teardrop of a final goodbye.
Poetry lives in the heart of a swallow
That begets such a musical ode
Its the parting woe of two close friends
A last drink,one for the road.
Poetry,my darling,is that one heartbreak
When she cried yet he never came back.
Poetry is living beyond all dark memories
That one last dance by the sea-side shack.
Its sleeping on a sheet of moonlight,
Under the open sky decked with stars,
Its the conversation that strikes by chance
Yet ties two strangers for hours.
Down the streets of a mundane life,
If your heart ever calls behind,
Hope my poetry brings you a smile,
Me you may not find.
                        -debosmita.

Monday, 11 March 2013

The Girl With The Book.

Sitting by the window of a usual cafetaria
Pensive in her mood and an expression lost
You might miss a glimpse of that girl
Too absorbed in the pages of Tagore and Frost.
Her benumbed coffee frowning on the table
Her mind floating through emotions undefined
She feels around her the beauty of verses
She creates her Elysium amidst all unkind.
Her eyes dreamy,Her words smoky
She speaks as though from a land unknown,
Trying to fit in where others have already
But a half read-book always on her mind...

She wakes everyday,to tell herself
Finally she'd break off with her world of fable
And relate to a world that stares on her face
Dismal,scared and so vulnerable.

Everyday she reminds herself
Life ain't a poetry,
Its gait is far away from a rhyme.
Its harsh and painful,often sarcastic
Its nothing of whimsy,seldom sublime.

Her faith in the love of Oliver and Darcy
Her unending wait for the Montague lad
Its funny what growing up often does to your dreams
Its funny in a big way,yet slightly sad.
How she loved the smell of old books
Their tattered pages took her back in time,
Obscure faces she could stare for ages
And some stains that let her imaginations run wild.

Her friends had grown out of candies and paper-boats
They now jeered at the mention of princes and steeds
Her soul however ran like an unchained melody,
Alas! There's no growing up for the girl who reads...
-debosmita




 

Saturday, 9 March 2013

The Lost Traveller

An evening on a front porch
With fingers toasty with a cup of tea
Someday a sunset will bring to your eyes
Countless "perhaps",
And innumerable "might be"..

Dozens of "I wish" and regrets of days gone
Of hands that could be held and dreams that died unborn
And amidst all that disbelief
And shreds of the sanity you'd sworn
You'll smirk at how fragile hope is
Like a childsplay,it gets torn!

How the wearied stars looked at us
Our conversations undefined
The whole world wrapped in phrases
The power of silence undermined.
You told me of the mountains you remember?
I still hear some names you saw etched in stone
How I recounted some snowfalls,a wild stream
And we drew a world of our own..

Those untamed forests of Africa
The unnamed alleys of Mexico
The songs we envisioned through the Paris streets,
Oh! so many places we were meant to go..
Do you still love the sound of alien words?
When was the last time a ticket you bought?
To some sleepy alluring station
Please don't tell me you'd rather not!

I marvelled at the sight in your eyes
Of distant lands of paradise
Oh please tell me there's a tale awaiting
Don't dare say you got old and wise!
My faith says you live in a coven
With dispersed sunrays and souvenirs
And locked in caskets with fragrance of meadows
Are not your spirits,but your fears.

Tell me a voyage is planned already
A travel bag,tell me,is lying out there
Its just a thought,but tell me please
Not every sunset you sit here and stare.
Tell me you still visit the ocean in moonlight,
The sparkling creeks and deserts that gleam,
And all those things we once planned together
Please tell me...you still live my dream.
-debosmita.


 

Friday, 8 March 2013

Audacity of being me

Audacity of being me,
Is the reason i dare love thee
No decree passed
No queries asked
As long as you let me be
I might dock my ship on your shore
Or perhaps move forward to explore,
But every moment of our voyage bon
Lets smell the dusk,lets feel the dawn.


Life ahoy! Is a ride unknown,
Through dingy alleys and dark desire,
But if on this path I tripped on you,
Witnessed the changing colours of your sunkissed eyes.
Why not share this piece of heaven,
Why jigsaw this,why set it on fire?

Come lets take a trip from reason
And head towards the land of the loon,
No promises broken
No agony of parting
Morn starts with the sound of our laughter
And night falls with a kiss under a silvery moon.

Come with me darling,just give me your hand,
Lets plan a road-trip,make castles by the sea,
Smile at each other like there's no tomorrow
For right here,right now,oh! I love thee....
-debosmita.

 

Life Define

Formidable,mundane,static,bizarre,
Predictably transient,a marvel by far.
Sometimes its a firefly decieving the twilight,
At other,an abandoned shooting star...
A song half written

Never sang to the lover
Or sometimes a fetish,
That could provoke a war!

A cherub mouthing a soulful ballad
A work of sacred faith unleash
Or is it just about tempted souls
And concealed thoughts your darkest wish!
Sometimes as swift as a butterfly's flight
Sometimes hovering rough terrain
Sometimes it stares right into your face
Or averts her eyes as the enchanted maiden.

Often its the sunrays a child gathers
And locks inside two little hands,
But also the maverick sights it shining
Everytime he fights for what he stands.

A bag of lies
A bowl of truth
A proven delusion
Whatever you say,
A hilarious myth
If somehow you think
That you could run
Or stay far away..........
-debosmita.
 

Friday, 1 March 2013

Canvass


Kichu bhalolaga
Kichu pichhutan
Rumal e bhije thaka
Kota obhimaan
Diary te tola
Tomar khola hashi
Canvass e aka
Shei priyo gaan.
 
Chaini rakhte
Tobu theke jaye
Ashare golpo
Ashe ar jaye.

Ebar bhabchi,onek holo
Ja geche geche,ja chilo chilo
Ebar notun tuli chai
Jolrong thak,pastel e jai
Ekti canvass,kichu charcoal
Abar shei barota rong e
Ekbar nijeke harai.
Hoeto hobena kichhui
Jekhane chilam dariye,shekhanei roye jabo
Tobe tumi na eleo firey
Ebar nijeke dekho,thik khuje pabo...