Life became grey

She rejected the memory.
It was blue, topaz-like, evidently smeared with the unknown colours of her barren and cloistered womanhood. She felt the need to traverse time, go backwards in the misty halo and stand there. The liquid transience of her immaculate eyes...
They remained the only feature he had liked.
She had gouged open the silken wounds that were to pawn her insides onto a breathtakingly beautiful picaresque novel that she was writing---or that she claimed that she was writing.
She was not writhing.,she was,merely creating a falsehood, an inscription that was,like the daguerreotype made in golden petals of the silver tree of providence. Fated to lose everything, including her identity, she could only find refuge in the past, in history, that she had taken,great pains to elevate. Erasing the immoral parts, proving that she was the pious outcome of the event meant for blasphemy. Immortalized on the other side of the world, where dreams make complete sense to strangers who appeared in it. Patience and a painkiller, a Hitchcock book, or a cup of chardonnay. Peace prevailed in the haunts of the subconscious that her imagination made.
Disease. Face. Mask. Disease. Peeled. Anointed. Disease. Body. Pus. Fever. Nausea. Disease. Prevention. Cure. Disease. Blood. Death. Disease. Release. Freedom. Disease.
Hands, clawed, with the talons of an eagle, to hold firm to the material earth after her demise from the unnatural macrocosm. Now emerald, blood flowed like a serpent's. Easy, cold and emerald. And colours of the palette merged together to form the black. A spectrum of rainbow colours had conglomerated. Heavens had reopened and the rains came down. Thick white rains. They forcibly flew, as if with the wings of Hermes. They were medicines. And they danced on the black of the disease.
Life became grey.

being myself...

i do not understand why i suddenly remembered that i have a blog, where i used to post all kinds of ghastly, makeshift details about my life. even though most of it was censored, i still felt the need to give out the general idea. i don't remember the last time i have seriously written, so this ,might come across to a few followers as extremely vain. but i choose to keep and it and get better again. they say, you need to hone skills. my skills seem to have infested themselves with a layer of rust. true to the truest sense, i have not really felt too intensely equipped to write anymore. even now, as i am tapping the keys of my woe begone keyboard, (i can see that the "A" and "E" on the keyboard have vanished from the keys. also "N". half of "H" and "M" and "S" are visible. "C" will shortly follow) i find that i take deep interest in the very unimportant details of life. its unnerving how i can love without being loved.

only last day this senior approached me in college and told me that i had quietened down. i wasn't cursing people with my everlasting choicest swear words and i wasn't there to care about anything anymore as such. a friend of mine thought that i was slowly progressing towards an emotional doom (i am reading painful and extensively depressing things nowadays). all of it irritates me. there has been this oe question that pangs me. "why me?" i was never meant to face this. i was supposed to be this very vibrant and happy girl who could laugh at anything in the world. i laugh less now and that senior thought i was suffering from some "shorir kharap". i talked to ma about this and she thinks that its with time that everyone matures and they start feeling this way. if that is true, then why these pathetic lines of thoughts to accompany my process to maturity? if this is how one is supposed to feel while they mature, then i would rather stay immature. i hate maturing.

what is maturity? the ability to practically analyse things and take decisions accordingly. in bangla, we may call it "bujhdaar howa, mene neoa". it was so good back in school. i never really gave any thought to anything anymore really. why was this happeng to me?

i will become schizophrenic in a few days...and i can feel it. all the best to me.

hail thee!

surreal thoughts were blocking my head suddenly. yes i was thinking after a long time. sanity had come back. there were many people all around me who had asked me to do things now..for one..there was this pal who said.."dude! stand in front of the mirror, and then look into your face..then slap yourself real hard straight across the face..and then wonder what you were doing for all this while."

yes!

i was involved in an emotional turmoil that almost made it impossible for me to look at other things. true to the latest content, i was being diplomatic for the first time. i was learning how to say "no". through the glossy panes of my window, i could make out the silhouette of the object that had been my drapery for the past few days. yes. this was realisation as well. just a drapery. the hallowed intensity with which i was worshipping it made the quest for material thoughts look saner. what my peers were telling me to do at the right time were, well, the right things. i was easily deviated from that path by the shallowness of my aura. yes..aura. i did carry one of a kind of that when i glided over the stone steps of my dirty soul. dirt almost clothed me then. piety and piousness, the things that had distinguished my forefathers before me had found its gradual decline in my hands. it was a new race altogether. it was a hybrid of the piety that was left in me...the insane piety..the devilish one, and the murky extravagance that dwelt in me now. was not a very healthy combination, but i still tried my level best to look through the various things that were encompassing my mind now. i was mind boggled. everywhere around me i could see the precious stones that i had scattered over the period of time,. they reflected my face sadly..i could not gather them and pick them up. i was cursed, jinxed. i was unable to bend and collect the stones.

behold!

there was nobody who would help me now. i was only witnessing my downfall. hopes had exhausted. that is not a healthy thing, my father had once told me. "hopes are what we line on, my child". hopes?? what hopes? there was only one hope now. i could degenerate completely to form from the ashes a new me; the kind of exercise that a phoenix practices. there was a reason for what i was doing. i was aware of what i did! very sadistic! but it dint even pain...

there was i lying in a pool of blood............hail the innocence.

the Devil and Me...

all the first year english honours students...we find the devil positively HOT!!! well, with the likes of paradise lost actually (hail the head of the department)...the devil..and an image...me.....??? no wait!! just read this...what a superb, possibly delicious dream..............
THE DEVIL AND ME.....
(i so wish i was in hell...beside his "huge mass" and admiring his tantalizing prowess)



Jolted into reality!
I have been trying to figure it out.
How do i invite my realistic doom
silently,
naturally?
Serenading Satan to please him well!
Giving to him,
myself.
The Devil takes over.
Sweet symphonies bless no Aura;
sounds like evergrowing cacophany.
I am standing heres with Hades,
crying out to Him
The silvery black mist that hides me,
covers the blood bathed face of the Never Penitant Silhouette,
from him, the devil.
And then issues a fatal Confession
from the Damned lips of my agression,
I am in love with the devil...
The One who dwelt in Cain,
the One who lived in Judas..
Bilial!
Lucifer!
He held my reins and made me canter
to the tune of his perilious, Immortal harp.
My soul blackens up
with his poison so profound,
the One who slept in our Mother.
He has burnt my face;
eaten it up
with the fangs of his desires.
I trudge,desolate,
with Him along me,
ashening up my soul!
but He likes me that way!!??
Benumbed senses say,
another one is trapped,
in the fearful, yet desired clutches of
The Devil.
He makes me ready to kill,
the Saintly Archangels
of the Heavenly Sparta.
Any Saviour on the way??????
Where be your Messiah??
I defy the Wills of Nature,
like Him,
His defying of the ever glowing
Arch Enemy.
Together reigning supreme,
in the Hallowed World of Fire;
a World reduced,
laughing mirthfully,
The Devil and me..

crime to conscience..

looking at the scenery around me and i was a little unnerved. the petty reason that enabled my standing there surprised me beyond all eternity. i was having a nice time trying to encompass the things that were running through my vain mind. literary deficit? or mindless intellectualised approach? i dunno. but the black coats moving around me gave me quite an "au revoir"!!

deja vu!
yes i have been here. i have scented the long lasting fragrance that moulded, rusted iron leaves in your hands after you hold them for a long time and beat your head against them. a momentary blankness was making its way across the veritable mine of gold that i usually refer to as my mind. a colossal wreckage of grey matter, a wastage of all the capillaries and cells that enabled me to make myself, and here i was, trying to debate whether i was the criminal!
dark! the process was encrusting upon me, its fused hallow. impregnated be thy mind! i am not the one standing here..the spirit of lethargy has eaten it up...
while i waited for the eternal truth i was to be sentenced. i was waiting for it patiently. and then maybe, it would go to the gaols...me...i mean my body. the very reason i refer to myself as "it" now is that the rotten crust of my wrecked brain had died out now and i was gloating at it. that was the only reaction, or rather expression that i retained now. there was no trying to decipher what the apparent meant when they opened my case file. i was to be damned to eternal damnation and i was ready for it. wait! ready?! what readiness are we talking about in here? there needs to be in a person, his or her presence of mind, to incorporate any kind of mortal emotions, even the likes of something like courage...

"ekti mitthye bhul..jeeboner banaan ta ki palte felte pare? raater shesh kona tuku diyeo jodi tomake dekhte pai, dhonno mone korbo nijeke..dekha dao...ami trishnarto..."
last few lines from the poem that he wrote for me..i could remember the words from the part of the wreckage that could still act as a computer that stored such monumental database. but the shiver it stirred through me on the day he read that out under the thatched asbestos, when it rained hard, could not be found...
and they were sentencing me now i guess! reception was done for...
"miss xxx, after going through the evidences and listening to the accounts of the various witnesses, we have reached our verdict and this court of conscience finds you guilty of murdering your thoughts and the mind that you possess. you are thereby sentenced to an imprisonment of a lifetime behind the bars of insanity. court is adjourned..."

mistaken spellings

you wont define it.
wont care!
cause defining it
is like a stroke of
badly solved algebra!!

momentary pique
of Bright Renaissance,
sways past...

what is passe,
but can be done,
to replenish.
the lost stigma of aura,
stiffly frozen.

the lull of existence
calls for the curtains,
life's play...

distinguished words
stop making way.
faltered arrangements
come a long way.
distance travelled.

to read the Iliad
wronging all through
scattered emotions...

resonances sound,
way beyond the ropes.
webs spun by time,
dims the happiness,
faded memoirs...

existence calls,
it spells all;
mistaken spellings...

29th of February

dint blog for quite some time now. realised that when a senior actually took the pain to tell me that on the metro. well, there are a lot of thought crammed into my head at the moment but i am not really paying any heed. the coveted aura is seen now, as in, i can see it now.

BLISS!

it just might be momentary, but its still there. i can almost feel the tinge of the brightness on my skin. it is there to make me wonder..will this last? its transient, i know...but then, what isnt? i can talk spiritual and aesthetic at the same time but then that would give rise to a lot of hypocrisy. i am neither of those. agnostism is what i am talking about. no! agnostism is in! i have this reel that is playing in my head. things are coming abnormally sarcastic. derogatory. wholesome depressions give rise to a subtle hate that extracts the innermost originality of your conscience..till you have none left!

i am not faulty when i am amidst expression of sobriety. all of us are hallucinated by a halo of mirth! talk about it. are we even standing here and transforming the customs that we have inadvertently followed? i dont really think so. we are like this little kid standing in a shop full of candies and it is basically our existence that smiles upon us, like this generous candy shop owner, who is going to treat you for free! think of the sadism here.. you are treated to something you like, any amount you prefer, only to go forward to face tremendous calamities and superficial dooms. basics remain basics. we are not studying philosophy in the true sense, are we? what we call philosophy is the "last will and testament" that life holds out to us.

"hothat alor chowa"..every page of that book mentioned my nudity! specially the line, " alor antaray brishti jedin lukochuri khelchilo, shey din chilo tar stobdho payer abotoroner din, alochokito jhoro haway supto shopot bhangoner din!" i say, that is the true essence that defined a tagore in "shesher kobita"? the dormancy of the hidden promises have forgotten to take its toll on me. right now i am unmoved.

remind me of the date today? i dont think i would even acknowledge its existence. the thirty days of the month are all like the 29th of february to me now. why do i say that? its monotony? no it isnt. i am just contemplating the mystic aura that would shroud my vain eloquence someday. we are not doing what we are meant to do! at least i aint! or then, i am doing something that is not going to take me a lot of miles further from where i am standing..maybe, my journey ends when i mark the penultimate milestone!

my blog has steadily kept getting intellectually more enhanced now. analytical maybe. true to the finest sense of the material that i am inscribing here, this is a product of the jumbled thoughts that penetrated my vain mind these few days...why else would we talk about the 29th of february??? significaion of the phrase "once in a blue moon..." and maybe more...