না, আমি তোমাকে ভুলিনি...

না, আমি তোমাকে ভুলিনি,
না ভুলেছি সেই দিনগুলি
যখন রাত জাগার কারণ
আমার অফিস ছিলো না।

তুমি এখন ব্যস্ত
আমি হয়তো তোমার চেয়েও বেশি।
তবুও, সময় যতটুকু পাই,
অধিকাংশ তো
সেই স্মৃতিগুলিই কেড়ে নেয়।

মেট্রো গেটের বাইরে
সেই প্রথম তোমাকে দ্যাখা,
তার পর, নিলভ সরোবরের পাশে বসে
কত না কথা বলা...
না, আমি ভুলিনি।

হেরিটেজের সেই গার্লিক চিকেন
তুমি তো কিছুই খেলে না।
সব আমার পাতে দিয়ে বললে,
আমি নিজেই নাকি কিছু খাচ্ছি না।
তোমার কি মনে আছে..?

বাড়ি ফেরার পর
শুরু হলো আবার সেই ব্যস্ত জীবন।
তুমি, ও আমি কাজের মাঝে
কোথায় আবার হারিয়ে গেলাম।

তুমি তো চিরদিন আমার মনের ভেতরে থাকো।
আমি কি ঠিক সেই ভাবেই
থাকি তোমার মনে?
তা জেনে অবশ্য আমার লাভ কি?
আমি তো তোমাকে মনে করেই খুশি।

(০৮/০৬/২০১৭)

Lost in the woods...

We walked hand in hand in the woods.
We- you and me- chatted endlessly,
At times without caring what the world thought.
We cut jokes on every small thing,
and laughed like anything.
I stared at your laughing face and you innocently asked,
'what happened? Is there anything on my face?'
Realising my mistake I said 'nothing'.

And a time came when you wept out all your troubles
that life had caused you at every point,
while I took the opportunity to wipe your tears,
And tried to make you laugh,
narrating the silliest things I had done in life.
You laughed, and I stared at your face once again.

And then...You suddenly left my hand.
And the next moment, made a distance.
Day by day, this distance increased.
And today, the distance is so much that I can say...
You are lost....
You are lost in the woods,
Or maybe I myself am lost without your presence.

Today, I roam helplessly amidst the same woods,
the same greenery and under the same blue sky.
Anyone who watches me feels I am not alone.
The elements of nature are my companions.
What they don't know is that
Those elements are busy in their own worlds.
The trees dance happily with the moving winds
Leaving me to just walk abruptly wherever my steps take me
Like some lonesome drunkard.

At times, when I recall the memories you have left behind,
I roll back to the places we had walked together
Where I sit and caress your footprints.
Imagining your presence there, I ask...
'Why did you go away? What fault had I done?'
Only to find silence as the answer.
From somewhere in the woods, a stranger notices it.
He comes from behind and asks me,
'You have a number of beings around you
who love and care for you.
Why do you feel her loss so much?'
I turn back and reply-
'You don't know, my friend,
even the vast sea feels the loss of sweet water.'

(dedicated to somebody)

Story of the Little Birdie

It was a fine golden time

Which was expected for nine months

When the tiny egg got hatched

And the little birdie came to earth.

‘Welcome,’ said mummy, with a smile on her face

And a tear of happiness rolling down her eye.

‘My daughter is a princess,’ said papa

As he took her in his lap.

She brought a glaze in every face

Who had been waiting for this day.

She cried a baby’s cry

But made a hundred faces smile.

And thus the days kept passing by.

The birdie now went to school.

She got many friends who were like her

Together, they fluttered around in joy.

She became a pet of her teachers

And was the life of her parents.

She was a darling of her brother

And a pride of her friend-circle.

The little birdie saw her mother.

Like her she wanted to fly.

She fluttered her wings, tried and tried

Fell down, got hurt, cried, and again tried.

And then one fine morning,

She could see herself fly.

She flew around and sang around

And danced around with great joy.

Her loved ones watched her from the ground

‘Our birdie has grown so big,’ they were spellbound.

The birdie, now a little bigger

Saw her father struggling so hard.

She had a wish to stand on her feet

She wanted to give her best

And be the ‘man’ of the nest.

While on other hand she had a dream

A prince birdie would marry her.

He’d take her to his kingdom,

And they’d stay happy forever.

And one evening

When she was flying happily with her friends,

Some eagles saw her from a distance.

Not her, but her feathers.

And when the birdie was alone,

They took a chance and pounced on her.

She couldn’t understand anything.

She was too innocent to get them.

And when she finally knew everything,

It was too late. Too late.

She cried. She wanted to run away.

But all her struggles went in vain.

The hungry eagles didn’t show mercy.

They bit and ate her every feather.

They crushed her body, played her innocence

And also her dreams and ambitions.

When she was found by safe people,

She was already half dead.

But still her feeble tongue said,

‘I want to live, I want to live.’

And then there were agitations around

They wanted the eagles to be slain down.

They prayed for the birdie’s recovery.

Although they knew, she couldn’t fly like before.

Back in the hospital, the little birdie

Was ignorant of all this.

She kept fighting for her life.

Her determination was always alive.

But the deities of heaven wanted her back.

They, perhaps, didn’t want her

To be with the bruises.

So they called her back to heaven,

Where she got healed, and flew once again.

Today she has no cuts, and no fears.

She’s playing with the other angels like her.

When she was born, there were a hundred smiles

And when she is gone, there are a million cries.

India has, no doubt, lost a gem.

But her martyrdom has indeed set a big flame.

(May she always Rest in Peace)

O little bud......

O little bud, why do you want to dry and fall

Even before you are a flower?

Why do you want to quit this earth

Leaving behind, the shower?

With a hope of living it fully,

Had you come to this earth.

Then why are you leaving it half way,

Just by looking at its mirth?

If you think you are ignored,

And nobody else loves you,

Then just try to turn around,

And look at the plant that holds you.

Look at the breeze that comes to you

To keep you cool and calm

The rivers quench your thirst

They want you no harm.

Why do you wish to leave away

The ones who care for you

And just do you allow the devil

To take a grasp on you?

Why don’t you understand this

That by just killing yourself,

You also kill so many hearts

Which beat thinking of you??

Just don’t part with your loved ones

Before God wants you to.

Trust me, you leave behind cries

And sorrows and pains too.

O little bud, I beg my heart of you

Just stay back and blossom.

Life still has lot of store for you

That’s really good and awesome.

  

 r e a l l y      g o o d      a n d      a w e s o m e . . . . . .

( A prayer to the section of youth which commits suicide every now and then...)

Yes, it is love

It's the island of serenity;
An arena full of trust.
An edifice of tranquility....
Yes, it is love.

It's a gift to the mortals on earth;
A beauty in itself.
A call from the bottom of one's heart....
Yes, it is love.

It's a promise to keep one happy, always;
To be by one's side forever.
it's always backed by hope and faith....
Yes, it is love.

You can't tie it with ropes of caste nor creed;
It's as free as a flting dove.
It's blind of every human barrier....
Yes, it is love.

The world often takes it as bad stuff;
But a true lover knows its purity.
A remedy for all the hate and mirth....
Yes, it is love.

___Söuvick
(Valentine's day 2012 special)

घुसखोर.....घुसखोर.....

भारत की धरती पर आज भी
रेँगते हैँ कुछ अनोखे चोर।
सभ्य जनोँ के वेश धारण कर
ले चलते देश को बर्बादी की ओर।
दीमक के कीड़े की भाँति
नहीँ होने देते शोर।
चुपचाप, देश को अन्दर ही अन्दर
खोखला करते हैँ घुसखोर!

खून व पसीने बहाकर
एक-एक पैसा कमाते लोग।
उस पैसे पर ताक जमाये
बैठे रहते हैँ घुसखोर।

अपने स्वास्थ्य की फ़िक्र न कर
रात-भर की नीँद त्यागकर
कामयाबी के सपने लेकर
अध्ययन करते हैँ जो छात्र,
उनके अरमानोँ को रौँदकर
लाखोँ रुपये की रिश्वत लेकर
कम अंक प्राप्त किये छात्र को
भरती लेते हैँ कालेज घुसखोर।

अमीर हैँ बनते अधिक अमीर
गरीब बनते और गरीब!
जब अमीर रिश्वत देकर
आगे निकल जाते हैँ,
गरीब अपने सर पटकते
पीछे ही रह जाते हैँ।
वे कुछ कर नहीँ पाते हैँ,
सिर्फ मचाते हैँ शोर-
"अब इस दुनिया मेँ नहीँ है जीना...
यहाँ भरे हैँ सब घुसखोर!!"

शरीफ़ व मासूम लोगोँ पर
लगते ज़ुर्म का आरोप।
खुद ज़ुर्म कर बच निकलते ज़ुर्मी,
निर्दोष पर रहता सज़ा का प्रकोप।
ऐसा इस लिए होता है
कि ज़ुर्मी रिश्वत देते हैँ।
पाप के पैसे लेकर खुद को
बेच देते पुलिस घुसखोर।

ईमानदार अफ़सर या गरीब किसान....
मेहनती छात्र या कोई भी सच्चा इन्सान
आज जीते हैँ दुभर जीवन।
घुसखोरोँ की टोली मेँ
चूर-चूर हो जाते उनके अरमान।

भारत की धरती पर आज भी
हो रहा ऐसा अन्याय।
न्याय के मन्दिरोँ मेँ भी
मिलते हैँ अनेक घुसखोर!!
अब हमेँ उठानी है आवाज़
देनी है अब अपनी राय।
देश की उन्नति के लिए
लाना है एक नया मोड़॥
रहना है हमेँ यह ज्ञात
भारत आज भी हमारी है।
हमेँ ही अब आगे बढ़कर
इसकी लाज बचानी है॥

Love people, not money

The world is marching towards its doom....
For the good, there is very small room....
Hearts of people are coveted by devils....
Money is becoming the cause of all evils..!!

Be it sports, art or education,
Money is becoming the main intention.
Business has become the main occupation.
Money is causing our separation.

Selfishness is present in every soul.
It is playing a great role.
They will take your help in times of need,
And forget you on reaching their goal.

Deep in my heart, there is a sorrow....
What will happen then, tomorrow?
Will the world become a second hell?
Its indeed painful to think, or tell.

Time is still there in our hands....
O humans, please change your thoughts!
Love people, not money nor greed!
Don't make money your caste or creed!!!

And you'll see the earth getting changed
To a more beautiful and heavenly place.
You will yourself receive the human love,
That money has never given you.

Tribute to The Shining Star

The Shining Star had come down on earth
And looked for a place to land.
He saw a place full of mirth.....
Our struggling and weeping motherland.

The shining star took a human form
And took birth in our motherland.
This mighty heart and great soul
Was born in Jorasako, in Bengal.

Neither a fighter, nor a politician,
Still regarded a gem of the Nation.
Pen was but his only weapon
To fight for India's freedom.

He saw the cry of the poor peasants
And the social evils spread around.
When He included them in his writings,
His words made the readers spellbound.

Finally his writings' every word
Really proved mightier than sword.
He became the Hero of the Indians.
His works became popular even in foreign.

But being a true Indian by heart,
He decided to work for India's good.
He didn't accept the foreign awards,
And disowned the title of knighthood.

Great was the Heavenly soul and heart....
Great is his contribution to Earth.
His thousands of poems are like flowing river.
He had indeed come once, but will stay forever.

Though this star is no more on Earth,
And has become a star once again,
Yet he has left his footprints here
For others to get the gain.

Today, in the day of 25th Baisakh,
The great day when he was born,
Lets all assemble in a group,
In order to pay him some tribute.

(dedicated to Rabindranath Tagore, my source of inspiration).

The tiny candle

The entire room has become dark
And is now coveted by devils.
But one small corner is an exception.....
It's devoid of every evil.

A tiny candle burns there,
Its light being too less to spread far.
Its wax has almost come to its end.
Its burning like a tiny star.

But amidst the darkness, one can feel
Thousand young candles ready to bloom.
But no light has given them life
To get the chance to enlighten the room.

The tiny candle sees everything,
And collects its remaining wax in a bundle.
It tries its best to increase its flame....
Large enough to reach those young candles.

The tiny candle knows very well
That it has not much wax to burn.
If it uses all its wax,
It will lose its life in turn.

But in order to increase its flame,
It has to use up all its wax.
It can neither stop nor wait.
To cut the darkness, its flame is the axe.

Closer and closer comes the wax,
And higher and higher goes its flame.
Weaker and weaker becomes its body.
Its sight too becomes the same.

"Burn, O wax, burn more.....
Brighten the flame from its core",
Says the candle with a feeble voice,
"This would help cure a thousand sore".

And then the last drop of wax burns,
And the flame does brightly spread,
Reaching the nearest young candle,
That's waiting to enlighten its thread.

The young candle gets a new light,
And burns brightly with great delight.
It also burns the other young candles.
Against the darkness, they actively fight.

Soon the entire room gets lighted.
All the devils get burnt in the flames
Of those thousand burning young candles.
The corpses of the devils scatter here and there.

But among the corpses of those devils,
There is yet another corpse.
This one is different from the other ones....
It seems not a cursed, but a holy one.

The corpse has a tiny burnt thread,
But not a drop of wax around.
To prove its greatness, the tiny candle,
Had left no proof to be found.

__Söuvick

(dedicated to those great people who care for the nation more than their own selves)

I'm just a Vagabond......

It's loneliness that my heart features....
I'm lost in this world, a maze of creatures.
I look not for honey, but for some peace and harmony....
I'm just a vagabond, searching my destiny!!

I find this world a big questionnaire....
And for me, seldom does anybody care.
I've to be alone throughout my journey.....
I'm just a vagabond, searching my destiny!!

My aims are slain, and my dreams crucified....
I do find myself as if I'm tied.
I'm not caged, but still not free....
I'm just a vagabond, searching my destiny!!

Attempts for freedom have gone futile....
Being hungry, I can't stay for a while.
I'm in darkness, waiting for it to be sunny.....
I'm just a vagabond, searching my destiny!!

(written amidst my ISC exams)

__Söuvick

O Love.....

O Love, you are wonderful....
Your beauty is just admirable.
Your power destroys hatred's every fence....
You are the cause of the world's existence.

A big battle that's fought for ages,
Can be controlled by you in minutes.
That house where there is your presence,
Is a palace even if its a hut.

O love, just spread yourself around this earth,
Which longs for your caress.
Your divine touch takes away all mirth,
And leaves behind just happiness.

The world today is scarce of you,
And your siblings, concern and care.
Those who get you, are very few.
Please let each one get one's share.

O love, just be in the actions of people,
So that their every deed be noble.
Don't hide yourself, use your beauty
To beautify this world, leave nothing empty.

"Amor, Amor....., I need thee more......
Thou canst cure my every sore",
This is the cry of the world today,
Which is full of pain and dismay.

O love, go deep in the peoples' heart....
Be present in the blood in their veins.
Let them do good in every case,
And make this world a better place.

__Söuvick

(Valentine's day special)

Keep this tricolour always high

Keep this tricolour always high.....
In this free air let it always fly,
And prove that India's land is free.....
Its now ruled by no enemy.

Look back to that Indian Age
Which is now in History's page.
India was not free that time.....
She had to face terror and crime.

Several Indians had come forward.....
They fought and suffered martyrdom,
And left us to enjoy the reward.....
The great reward of freedom.

And this tricolour that you see here,
Represents our motherland's democracy.
It also hides within itself
All those freedom fighters' history.

So, just show the world that India's free,
And keep those martyrs' memories fresh.
Make India grow and touch the sky.....
And keep this tricolour always high.

__Söuvick

Ode to my mother on her birthday

You are an idol of love and care.
Its for for you that on earth I am there.
You have always remained closest to me.
You fulfilled my wishes, but never asked a fee.

The age had come of my schooling.
I remember I never went to school
Unless I received your hug and kiss
And your fulfilling my one wish.

And when I returned from my school,
You always waited at the door.
The moment I got down from my rikshaw,
You hugged me again, and kissed me more.

Life was not always a bed of roses.
Problems made me cry and yelp.
The world came to support me later.
You were the first to come and help.

When the dark clouds covered the sky,
And troubles continuously came and went by,
It made you cry all the while,
But you hid your tears to keep my smile.

Clock kept running, and I grew up.
You were there with me throughout the time.
As a support, as a guide, and as the best friend,
You have given me knowledge and values in a blend.

You struggled hard for my living....
From morning to night, in a routine.
You followed the routine seven days a week.
You took no leave even when sick.

At times I feel how lucky am I....
To get you in my life.
I shall always remain grateful to you,
To your love, your care and sacrifice.

At last I would like to say,
Mothers like you are indeed very few.
Saying 'thank you' is too little a return.
I shall always remain indebted to you.

You have felt it or not, I have never known.
I love you too, though I might never have shown.
Today, in this auspicious day, I would like to say,
MOTHER, MANY MANY HAPPY RETURNS OF THE DAY.

(dedicated to my mummy on the occasion of her birthday).

Nothing, but the memories remain

The flow of water continues in the river.....
The same water you can't see again.
It flows, and moves ahead forever.....
Nothing, but the memories remain.

The existing day passes, and a new day comes.....
To some it brings gain, to others, pain.
The clock still runs, and the heart still pumps.....
Nothing, but the memories remain.

The path that begins, does have an end.....
Whatever length does it attain.
None can change life's this trend.....
Nothing, but the memories remain.

I began my journey, one fine day.....
Which brought me just joy and gain.
Today, when it ends, I can just say.....
Nothing, but the memories remain.

(today i attended my last class in my school. The pain of my leaving my alma mater for ever has made me write this poem).

__Söuvick

Walking down the road in the midst of night

Walking down the road in the midst of night,
One could see the scene with the half-moon's light.
Crescent was on its peak, and the clouds were raging,
Dashing with one another, a war they were waging.

Dogs that barked, and the wolves that cried,
Ran through the paths of the day's busy town.
There was also presence of the bird of the night,
Who shrieked and cried, flying up and down.

Walking down the road in the midst of night,
One could see this beautiful nocturnal kingdom.
No car on the road, in the sky no flight
To disturb them from this freedom.

The dark mongrel who roamed on the day,
And dined on the left-over food by people,
Did sit on the raised ground on the way
Just like a king, making a cat's hair ripple.

Walking down the road in the midst of night,
One could see the poor cat bowing down.
She had sat on the place of the king mongrel,
And now, she's being punished to act as a clown.

The night-scene is really quiet and peaceful.
It has a beauty of its own.
Come out and enjoy it, if you get no slumber.
But remember, you must be alone.

Ignorant of Human Nature

The stars of the night, twinkling bright,
Can see the Greenpark's strange sight.
The crowd of people busy in the party
On the occasion of the Prince's stepping to twenty.

The stars of the night, twinkling bright,
Can see the crowd of Kingly beings
Well attired, with gifts on hands,
Enjoying the ball, with all its good things.

But the stars of the night can also see
A boy standing outside the great marquee.
His hands are empty, and clothes are torn.
He is lean and thin, his ribs one can see.

The guests inside, are enjoying lemonade.
But this young chap has no marmalade.
They, with delicious items are fed.
And he is cared by none, instead.

The Kingly guests, who are rich and healthy,
Are forced to take more and more items.
No one cares for this poor and lonely
whose lean body shows hunger's symptoms.

The stars can't understand this human stupidity.
Why the food is deprieved of the one who is hungry?
What to do, they are ignorant of human nature
Where the rich is valued more than poor.

(The pitiful sight is often seen by us, but we ignore it. Am I not right??)
__Söuvick

An ode to my teacher

I found myself on a central ground
Where several roads emerged.
I didn't know which one to follow.
In the sea of quandary, was I submerged.

I didn't just know what to do.
All the roads did seem alike.
I didn't know the one for me.
For help, I shouted and cried.

And then you appeared all of a sudden,
As a light in my life's dark cave.
And throwing away all my burden,
You showed me my path, and also did pave.

I took the road that you showed.
But the route wasn't that easy.
It bifurcated at every step
But you were always there to guide me.

The roads that took to doom and wrong
Were paved with flowers at their start.
You taught me not to focus on them
For they had thorns at the last.

I found my road full of obstacles.
You taught me to face them without delay.
And whenever I attempted doing that task,
I found for me, gifts on the way.

Even today you are guiding me.
Your care, your love is felt by me.
No speech is left with me to share.
Thank you, teacher, for your love and care.

__Söuvick

(a gift to my beloved teachers on the occasion of Teachers' Day).

I don't wanna part with you.....!!

You are an abode of tranquility,
An edifice of care and love.
A golden bag full of knowledge
To share with each of us.

Years ago, I stepped in you
Ignorant of a great fact.
The more my infant legs went in,
The more you entered in my heart.

And then you changed to a caring mother,
Guiding my steps in every path.
You helped me stay away from evil
And on the sea of values, take a bath.

You nourished me for so many years.
You taught me, life is beautiful.
In you, I saw a different world.
I felt you a home, not a school.

So many years have passed by me.
You gave me many new things to see.
Every new thing brought a new experience,
New lesson, new hope, with a new essence.

And today it pains even to think
The bitter truth of our getting parted.
I don't wanna part with you.
I want to remain for ever with you.

But I am bound with the rules of nature.
I am forced to leave your company.
But it is, for me, just a formality.
You are still in my heart, in my memory.
(dedicated to my beloved St. Xavier's...... My Alma Mater).

My old memories

The old memories of mine
Do prick me everytime.
Sometimes making me laugh, and sometimes.....
Making my time a sad time.

The good and bad moments of my past,
I know, shall never come back.
But I think it the least useless
Upon them, my head to wrack.

On the base of my past,
Stands the building of my present.
But the base cannot be placed on top,
Then why do its memories prick my heart??
__Söuvick
(i had written this poem when i was in class 9).

Nature is bounded

Nature was free and poured her blessings.
The trees grew in their own capacity.
The temperature was favourable.
Sweet raindrops made us wet,
Warm summer dried us.
Cold winter made us shiver,
Beautiful spring made us glitter.
Animals too shared the beauty of nature.
Man lived on nature,
Nature satisfied his need.

But man's need grew into greed.
And he made the nature bounded.
Exploited her, plundered her, and
Gave just pollutants in return.
The trees now cannot grow by themselves perfectly.
The good earth (soil) is destroyed.
Chemicals are needed in every step,
And no rain-drop is left pure.
Extremely hot, extremely cold
Causes man's destruction.
And mother nature can do nothing but cry.
Her hands are chained by men.
She is exploited by men.

BRING THE OLD NATURE BACK!!
Let her again show her beauty...!!
__Söuvick