Belonging

The shiny green grasses were wet due to the delayed monsoon. I could see a goalpost waiting in vain. The taste of the lemon tea got mixed with the smoke. The Chatim tree was inviting us to sit under it and watch the sky through its foliage. But to avoid the mud, we sat on the edge of the road. And… words were coming out. Some words became a lost melody in a borrowed mouth-organ. Some words were transformed into songs. Even more words were entrapped within us. Those failed to overcome the ‘should I’ dilemmas got lost paving way to an introspecting night- another insomniac night.

The trees turned into silhouettes. The cars passing down the road on the other side of the field became just a moving array of headlights. We moved away.

Aagomoni

How do we understand that this is the time for the ‘Durgapujo’? If I ask anyone I will get the typical answers.’ Kaash’, ‘Siuli’, the pale blue sky patched with the characteristic white clouds. But do we get to feel these anymore? If we want to see ’Kaashful’, we have to go out of the city. I admit that one can still find ‘Siuli ‘here, but it’s a hard job to locate the delicate flowers in this concrete jungle. And the sky? Well, thanks to the climatic change u just can’t trust the sky anymore.
So how do we understand the ‘Pujo’ is coming?
The countdown logo bug on the TV channels has started playing. Each day I see we are getting close by one day. I see the skeleton of bamboo which is slowly turning into the pandals. I find my friends online and we discuss when they are coming back to the city. And we plan. I get crushed when the extra ‘shopping’ crowd get in the metro from Esplanade.
And I understand...

The ‘Pujo’ is coming

Starting Over..... again

After the fall from heaven, I was lying on ground. I thought I could still fly, only to realize that the wings are broken. My whole body was aching with the pain from the fall. Wherever I looked, I could see torn feathers from my wings. I examined my wings, again. I was a fool to believe that with this I could fly. But....

I started tearing the remnants of my wings. I pulled apart the feathers and threw them away.I didn't stop until I wiped away the last proof of my wings, that i ever had them.

and then... I realized. what would i do without my wings? i have been used to them for so long, that i couldn't even think of anything but flying.So?? What Would I do?
I looked at the scars which used to be the wings at one time. I looked at the heap of torn useless feathers. I looked up and saw the brilliant blue sky, where I used to be.

And then, I looked at myself. I found a pair of legs. My legs. I took the wobbly steps. My first steps. Again...