It has been barely two and a half days. I think it has finally started sinking in that you left for good. I don't really talk to anybody else so I am gonna pretend I am talking to you because I don't know what else to do lately.
Day 1 was okay. I don't exactly remember what I did after you said "goodbye". I ate my food. I had prawns. You know I love prawns right? I was so happy.. The last time I had prawns was with you In American Diner. In the evening I ordered a cake for Kankatika. I ordered it from Flury's. Instructed the guy to deliver the cake and then made Arnab, Kanka's boyfriend check with Kanka if any delivery buy called..and she said she didn't receive any call...
I've been trying to find a medium ground to do this for you. But it's always been about extremes with you. I've spent days, hours and minutes looking at what your friends and past lovers have written about your beautiful soul. I've spent nights watching movies, missing you and finding you in them.
What shall I write about you? It has always been about feeling things with you rather than writing them down. But, I am going to give it a try. For you.
I wish I could've kissed you, held you and felt your skin under my hands a little longer. But I have realised that with you..I will never have my fill.
My happiness is now defined by my failed attempts of conversing in Bangla, relating...
Certain nights smell of you.
Certain nights my morbid obsession strangles your new lover in silence.
Certain September nights used to be ours.
Then, certain kisses were just mine.
Now certain memories are solely mine.
Memories like plastic, that take thousand years to decompose.
As long as I can remember, I am trying to replace every bit of you in my life. There isn't one yet but I will be on a hunt. Well you see, if they can't pour kerosine on a burning house, they aren't you. They are always suggesting I call the fire fighters, meaning the therapists, for some professional help. But I miss the raw smell of your kerosine.
Another prey called it a day today. It enrages me when they show concern or perhaps pity. They collectively fail to understand why you were the one.
I remember my mother putting that blue liquid on me and threatening to burn me down so as there is only ashes left. You figuritively...
There are days when you can't pull the old strings to make yourself feel anymore. You may have caused a blunder making an oreo shake but it's just that. There's nothing more to it. Just a friend cleaning up your mess at 2 a.m. in the kitchen because she has accepted the fucked up standards in your life.
There isn't any trace of you in this new apartment. None of the corners creepily remind me of you, sitting and smoking a cigarette, looking at me like the way you used to.
I have skipped towns and cities to pretend like you never existed. You don't; I swear. So when i close my eyes I pretend I am not here anymore. I am in our old apartment where you wo...
Ode to a Star
I often think of you and Kashmir
Walnut tree against the azure sky,
Noon chai during sunset,
Your smell in my pheran
And the grenade.pp
It's been roughly sixteen months since I saw you last. I vividly remember your face, your clothes..all of it. You were wearing a black top with denim shorts, your hair tied in a loose bun and silver hoops dangling from your ears. It was 14th of February and despite the failed relationship which you carefully ended, we decided to see each other for the one last time. There were people selling roses outside The Park. I almost bought one for you but then I think everything I did at that moment would only annoy you further. We didn't speak much. We sipped the beer quietly and sometimes stole glances. There was nothing left of us. I had put gasoline and single-h...
The pure decadence of solitude has been worth the risk of letting you go. You existed because I needed attention. I almost bought it with money and time. You will always be my yellow. Even in desolation you will be bright yellow paint on my off-white colour plate, ready to mix in my dark grey existence. I never loved you. I tried.. really. I guess you never did love me too. We both tried to find our lost lovers in each other and we failed miserably. You were nothing like her except maybe you looked a bit like her. That was enough a reason to drag a relationship for four months. I think you knew it all along. That I would never get over her. That I was lying to myself when...
Out of all the letters I have written to you, this would be the penultimate one.
I want you to know that we both tried our best but it burnt out im the end. Another failed relationship and I do not know how will I stand up again. I am too drunk and I am drowning in the sorrow that you so kindly presented to me in a platter.
I am angry and hurt. I am sad and lonely. I broke myself into pieces so willingly that there was nothing you could do. I gave away too much like always and you weren't prepared for another hurricane. You never will be. Maybe I can't be loved. Although I do deserve it as much as you do.
We both have seen our lovers walk away wit...
I have basking in the autumn sun since your tender hands had caressed my face. I might end up making our love sound very pure and idealistic but patriotism isn't what makes you and I what we are. Not today and probably not tomorrow as well.
I believe we have our fleeting moments of uncaged, childlike exuberance and also dark dingy lanes that reek of uncertainty and scepticism. The best part is we manage to keep our head above water because we refuse to give up on one another. Our love isn't one that resonates a Petrarchan sonnet. It resembles the ones by T.S. Eliot.
"And time for all the works and days of hands
Take a glass, fill up to its brim and break it into tiny pieces that have sharp edges. Drink the spilled water and eat the broken pieces so as it slice your throat. Store it in your heart so as it brings down every potential new beginnings. Procrastinate optimism and people who are desperately trying to uplift you. If one could personify guilt, it would be the man with innumerable failed suicide attempts. If it were a place, it would be inside of a coffin, a concentration camp that reeks of hell.
(setting: rural areas of west bengal)
I see a blue kite hovering among the soft cotton clouds. It's the sky of October. We are sitting in kaash bon (jungle of Kahuwa) and it smells of Sarat (Autumn). The sunrays fall on your soft milky skin and I hold your hand and stare at the horizon.
I feel this eternal sense of euphoria running through my veins. I look at you. You look beautiful in a childlike way. It feels like your innocence is still intact, preserved and is radiating from your skin. I gasp and take the fresh air in my lungs. I feel used to your presence. I feel complete. It is as if you were waiting to happen all this time and I have fina...
I am living this moment drowning in white rum and passive smoking. I am drowning anyway. I am almost drowning from the 16th floor to the ground. I can see the bottom. Green garden, concrete floor, pleasent fountains... it calls me. It asks me to dissolve. But i won't. I would crush and break and die. Is death such a big deal? Does it ever occur to you that you might find solace in death?
Or is it just me building castles about how fairytale-ish death is in my head. Is it screwed up to not try harder everyday? Why can't we simply give up? We have had our fair share of good memories where you looked at me through those intoxicated eyes and pierced my soul. I have lived my good days. And then ...
Hiraeth (part 3)
Life is a bell jar of frenzied fleeting relationships. The only consistency you find, comprises of a few moments that haunt you for the rest of your life.
After a while, painful memories just become memories as the intensity of it melts away. Till then, it's a battle you fight while wearing an armour of self preservation. But how do you fight it? Do you channelise that incorrigible pain into a soothing cut on your thighs? Or do you crawl on the bathroom floor under the cold shower that stings your skin?
If you ask me, I would suggest you to go for that shower at 1 a.m. Because water doesn't leave behind scars. Blades and knives do.
To my loved one,
There were days when I couldn't smile, and you couldn't make me either, but I remember that you cried with me.
There were days I was too happy and I remember you laughed with me.
And then there were days I wanted to share things with somebody without wishing to be judged and I remember you were the only one I turned up to.
There were days I couldn't sleep in bed, and you were the companion who twisted and turned with me.
There were days I had to plan my dream vacations in goa and I remember doing that with you.
And then there were days when I felt suicidal, and I remember, each cut on my body killed you a little more.
There were days when I had enough mood s...
We've spent some wonderful moments together and I'm yet to learn to cherish them above the hurt.
However, I am very happy to know that you're moving ahead with life. Delhi is a great place. But it's very unsafe. Don't try to spend the night outside alone, you'll die. I'm serious.
Thank you for being by my side and loving me on the days you did. You'll learn that certain things can't be forgiven and they can only be forgotten. I'm working hard on the forgetting because I need to get better. I don't love you anymore, I'm just not over the shock of you doing what you did. That's all.
If you're allowed to apologise, I'm allowed to hurt and forget it.
When you do find...
Hiraeth (episode 2)
ল্যাম্প পোস্টের আলোয় যে জানালার ছায়া আমার ধূসর দেওয়ালে পড়ে রোজ রাতে, ঠিক তার বাঁ দিকে আমার খাট। তোষকের একটি কোণা পুড়ে গেছে ওই পাঁচ টাকার খামখেয়ালী সিগারেটের কেরামতিতে। এখন আর ঝিঁঝিঁ পোকার ডাক শুনতে পাওয়া যায় না। নিস্তব্ধ রাতে নিয়নের আলো যেন চিৎকার করে আমায় জানায় যে তার চোখেও ঘুমের লেশ মাত্র নেই। তারা যারা আমায় হিংস্র প্রাণীর মতো কামড়ে পালিয়ে গিয়েছিল গাঢ় নীল অন্ধকারে, তাদের অট্টহাসির আওয়াজে সুর মেলায় আমার হৃদস্পন্দন।
September and Grey
September is a sarcastic month.
It has observed the extremities on both the ends
And ridiculed the vehemence of May and December.
September settled for Grey.
September erodes the top soil,
And plants intoxicated kisses.
It nurtures felonies and victimizes
It questions their freedom of expression
And bombards them with incoherent charges.
September resides in Grey.
They built a fountain of lies and missiles
And a castle of oxymorons.
A profound understanding met irrational love,
They overlooked the rest
Days passed and grey split into two
Black urged for a colder climate
And white, a warmer nudge.
September ran for life but couldn't escape.
Hiraeth (episode 1)
As I sat on the veranda, contemplating whether I should have left the city lights for this particular sunset, an odd feeling of calmness filled my lungs. I took out an old purple lighter, tossed it across the shabby floor and watched it skip like those pebbles thrown at a 20 degree angle across still water.
Spiti looks beautiful at this hour of the day. This is when I make paper planes out of blue paper and watch it glide. This is when I know another day has passed and the shade of green in your hairlocks has faded.
Bell Jar of Hopelessness
200 g of hopelessness,
Packed and sealed,
Ready to be parcelled somewhere insignificant,
Waits in a white van
Under a blue plastic sheet.
The location is ten minutes from home
But might take a year or two,
And a lot of things which doesn't
Miss the "mis" and awaits patiently
For it's perfect timing to pounce.
Pounce on a stupid morality bar which
I have set on a higher plane than usual.
Where clouds don't interfere.
Where aeroplanes fly for Europe,
Where you instantly join the
Mile High Club, my dearest.
Dearest dares to love dearly
And hate passionately.
Dearest loves Oc...
This email is from the friend that was there in me somewhere. You've been a fierce friend earlier. You've stood up for me when you didn't have to. You've supported me through my shitty days. I'm very grateful for all that support and will always be.
Now, about whatever happened very recently, I never expected you to assume certain things about me.
I am not a friend stealer because,
A) I'm not like that. I'm 22 and I have better work.
B) friends can't be stolen. They aren't objects.
And this is where I come to the real deal.
You kept saying throughout our relationship that you're not everyone, guess what? You are. You became just like the rest :)
Now Debalina no long...
Tumhaare nazron ne jab se mere chehre ko chhuya hai
Maano ek ajeeb si raunaq aa gayi hai iss shareer ke har ek zarre mein
Tumhaare zubaan ne jab se Mera naam liya hai
Maano kisi aur ke zubaan se woh naam sunne ka mann hi nahi karta
Tumhaare haathon ne jab se mere badan ko chhuya hai
Kisi aur ko iss shareer ka ek bhi hissa Dene ke liye razamandi nahi milti hai mere jism se
Tumhaare alfazon ne jab bhi koi geet gungunaya
Woh kisi aur ke awaaz mein sunne ko Dil nahi lagta.
Iss pagal ke saath aap karengi Kya mohtarma
Ishq mein aapke, yeh begaana ho gaya
(Note: This piece isn't written by me. I am only hiding my treasures here. It's the place I always return t...
Out of all the lasts that we have had, this is surely the penultimate. I am okay now. I will not get into the details of today.
Before I sleep again, I asked for my laptop and not my cell phone. I had to write this to you. I do not know where to begin, now that I have promised myself that this is the very end.
Two people who are so intensively different and yet in love can only result in so much hurt, dearest. And If I cannot be with you, how can I be at all?
Of course I might live through this incorrigible pain of separation and self depreciation where one does not know what one had to be to keep a lover. I do not think loving someone beyond ones issues is ...
series of letters from what happens in our parallel world.
I hate cycling in the sun. But I love to cycle off when there's a nice breeze. I know you never thought we'd ever end up at a home in the hills and that I'd ever leave the limelights of the city.
I loved seeing your face in the morning when I woke you up and served you a home cooked meal. You were surprised and you tried your best to smile and not laugh at my past relationship with the kitchen.
I like to accidentally brush past you while serving you meals. I like to accidentally trace your finger with my finger.
My lace curtains and open windows were waiting to bring fresh air in for you, my love.
Aj shaam ko kaam se jab dono thake haarey ghar wappas aye aur tumhaare phone ka charger aur mere cushion covers mein ek kaala dot ke wajah se jhagre ke baad waali chai ke saath jab cigarettes ke nashe chadhe hum dono ko, tab tumhaare ankhon mein ek ajeeb see haseen roshni si dikhi mujhe.
"Unse Nazar Kya Milin Roshan Fizaein Ho Gayee
Aaj Jana Pyaar Ki Jaadugari Kya Cheez Hai"
(note: This piece of art wasn't written by me. I am compiling these artworks in one place so as I never lose them)
No, I was never going to call you to ask you to return my things. I had called you to tell you, I love you and for you to let me stay on.
I have stayed on, Ahana. For so long.
In fear that you may not call me again, I had wanted to call you to tell you that I love you, and that is all that matters to me.
I don't know what happened. You gifted me such a beautiful day and your mother said something which definitely hurt me. While we were on the phone I repeatedly told you that I am not okay, let me be and you insisted on staying on. That is good too.
But, you did not have to take someone else's shit out on me.
I never bring up the past and I never accuse you because I find no...
tomar thonth amar thonth chhulo
jodio ei prothombar noi
chumbon to ageo bohubar…
eibar thothe mileche ashroi
jemon shob bhoyer golpe
doitto danob rakkosh r kkhoy
tile tile shukhoi rajkumari
ontomile rajputrer joy
tobuo khub bhitore badhahin
lorai chole shumbo nishumbher
prothom bole, phool ti chire khabo
ditio bole, hath pate shekh
ashole tumi dirgho shalmoli
shobar matha chariye torubor
tomar thonth amar thonth chhulo
r je kichu okinchitkor .
Bhalo theko. Bhalo rekho
(note: This isn't written by me. I am storing these beautiful letters which were written to me in one place so as I never lose them)
There's fresh air here. My rooftop has never soothed me more.
Just know this,
I have seen the real you. You're beautiful. You loved me. You gave me whatever you could.
You gave me care and love and made me believe that I can be loved for who I am.
I can't be her. I don't want to be her.
I thought your love for me was enough for you to be happy, here right now.
I am leaving a note with the shirt I wore the first time we made love.
Its for you.
No one else.
Do come over to kiss me goodbye before they take me away and I am completely gone.
Uber address: 263, G.t. Road. Howrah.
block 6, 3rd floor.
take my books, burn them/ keep them
take the shot glasses, the goblet an...
As I left, I felt a sharp stinging pain in my abdomen which slowly spread till it reached my thighs. The butterflies inside made a screeching sound and burnt themselves in the dilute hydrochloric acid. I gulped some cheap alcohol down my throat and let it sink. But it didn't. It floated violently in the sea of sorrows which I created drop by drop, where you were drowning effortlessly.