ChheleManush.

Ek je chilo manush

Je uriyechilo fanush.

Akashe noye, akashe noye uriyechilo mone,

Sobuj, gopon,gohon gobheer bone.

Ek je chhilo chhele,

("Keute kimba gokhro noye o shnap nehat hele"!!)

Dariyechillo ishot heshe,

Kalo nodir chora srote chaito jete bheshe.

Dnohe eshe millo jethaye,

Sobje dhowa uthlo re hyaye!

Hroder buke lafiye name jhankrachulo saanj

Barandate bhashe tokhon uttore hawar jhaanj.

Bole manush, boner pane cheye,

Sada phoole mati keno dao chheye?

Chokito bon shohosha bole othe,

Tusharkona, ogulo phool noye to mote.

Chhele tokhon olpo ektu hashe,

Daraye eshe sobuj boner pashe.

Apran shorate chaye tusharkona,

Potobhumikate tobu jege thake kalo shnaper phona.

Aajo tara manush aar chhele,

Dariye achhe neelche kalo jole.

Bonke tara debei debe phanki,

Gachher songe kotha bola jaye naki?

Dry Eye.

It's been six years since i first met 'bho'. Bho during those early days would often show up in that building in Sharat Bose road.Those evenings are unforgettable . Those were the evenings of orange street lights , chalk dust and time and distance problems. The south west monsoon winds brought occasional relief from the muggy heat of April-May evenings as bho sat between us and sometimes made itself heard through the spine chilling voice of Sanjbelar pagol. Summer pranced away merrily to make way for the bile soaked rainy evenings when we learnt all about the digestive system of toad. The Pujor chutti came and walked away.........yes it walked away with Sharat and walked away with 'bho'. But it left behind a longing , a neem green, beesh neel longing for street lights and bile soaked evenings which was to stay with me for ever. Bho showed up again during sheetkal, next year. This time it was to be with me for a little longer. What colours had it in store for me!! Doodhe alta pink , fiery sensual red, flaming orange, piercingly painful bluish green.................. and also sodden,sonda gondho ola ash/grey. Like everything else , like everyone else bho is ephemeral, it is intangible ,it is gullible, it is fallible ,it is............. well i really don't know what it is. So it left me again and literally went to Sat sommuddur, tero nodir par. After my Madhyamik Exams ie March, 2004 i tried to communicate with it. I would go up to the chhad and look up to the stars , at the constellations, at Saptarshi and Orion and tell myself that bho couldn't be as far as they are. So i whispered to them, to bho , to the rustle of the neem leaves during the Spring nights of 2004, looking eagerly forwards to another muggy Summer. Summer arrived with Scalar, vector and Acidimetry. There was also the south west monsoon winds with Chromosome and cell division and there was certainly....... bho .... yes bho again. Bho came back but this time it came back as a weak and timid black thing. All it was capable of was removing a curious blue green toffee from a silver wrapper . JEE dispersed and united Hydrostatics with Nervous system but failed to achieve nobler ends. Nevertheless poison ivy worked it's way. Bho revisited on that fateful day. Twice bitten, ever shy/Your eyes will burn but you cannot cry.

Mora hati.

Mora hatir dam ki lakh taka? We shall soon find out.

Birohobedona....... and abhishampat.

I miss u Motorola C168. Though u were never mine ie khatakolome, but can u deny that i had a spl relationship with u ? Woe b to the one who has dared to lay his/her filthy hands on u. May he/she suffer from communication gap for the rest of his/her damned life.

Moira bhyatkaiya roise pachhaye porse jochhona.

"Madan khaborer kagojta khulte khulte mridu heshe bole, mrityur ekta romantic dik ache, tai aajkal majhe majhe bhabi morle kemon hoye?







Kichu hoye na he. Manish matha nare, morar modhye romantic kichu nei. Ekebare mota dager ekta byapar. Amader deshe goba pagla bole ekta lok chilo. Se gaito, monu re, baper khobor rakhla na, hyaye je moira bhyatkaiya roise pachhaye porse jochhona.







Ashlil! ashlil! (Madan)







Motei ashlil noye. Manish matha nare, ekdom ashlil noye. Pachhaye jochhona porar byaparta borong boroi korun. Mora torar kotha holei amar ei gantar kotha mone pore.















Neelu Hajrar hotya rohshyo, Shirshendu Mukhopadhyay.















Monish says "byaparta boroi korun" but i think the picture of moonlight bathing a dead man's bum goes quite a few steps towards romanticizing death. Why ,Shirshendu does that at the very beginning of the novel :















Nirjon ek nodi saradin elochule pa choriye boshe mrityurkorun gan gaye. Charidike nistobdho ek upotyoka, du dhare kalo paharer deyal uthe geche akashe. Ei birole shudhu majhe majke deergho swasher moto hu-hu batash boye jaye. Ajosro shada choto boro nuri pathor onor hoye pore ache. Khub shada, neerob, heem,oshar shob pathorer majhkhan diye nodi - uthsho nei, mohona nei. Saradin ekhane shudhu tar korun gan, mridu bilaper moto. Kichu nei keu nei. Shudhu harer moto shada pathor thake nithor hoye. Upotyoka jure ek mrityur sommohan. Elochule pa choriye boshe nodi obirol gan geye jaye.




"Sommohan" or hypnosis draws Baishampayan towards death. The very words korun, obirol, heem, elochul and above all nodi and neerjon bring the smell of the ultimate lonely and unknown aspect that sometimes or the other knocks at a somewhat fearfully neglected door of each and every person's mind. Monish who says he doesen't think the idea of death to be romantic at all himself cannot avoid mrityuchinta:



Aaj rate jodi more jayi.......... aaj rate tar khoob more jete ichha korche.



The Sommohan is not of death but the thought of death (mrityuchinta). The hypnotic charm thus continues it's work, leading Madan, Manish ,Baishampayan and me to think of that endless chasm, the mysterious woman with her heem nodiness who sings a song.

Ami khoob bhool korechhi. Maratmak, asojhyo aar joghonyo bhool. Nijer ei obimrishyakaritar jonyo nijer gale thash thash kore chor marte ichha korchhe. Kintu kichhu korar nei. Once done cannot be undone. Aamar bichokhonota lop peyechilo, ami churanto arbachinotar kaaj korechhi. Nijeke er jonyo konodin kshama korte parbona.

Dreamwater.

I had a dream last night. I stood on the banks of a river. It was very wide. The water was greyish brown. There were gentle ripples. They were calling me. Then out of nowhere came a man. He was very tall and thin. He was bald, had small grey eyes and a long pointed nose. He had a friendly smile on his face. He told me, "Jao, egiye jao, jolta khub bhalo. Jolta hate niye dekho, gaye makho, jao na." I, at once started moving forward as if i had been waiting for his consent. Strangely ,as soon as i started moving the water slowly started coming forward. It created puddles in hollow places. The puddles grew larger. The waters sprang up vertically, created more and more puddles. At a point of time there was water on both my left and right sides. The space above my head and the space below my feet were enveloped with the greyish-brown sheet within moments. i didn't feel frightened. i felt madly happy! I started slapping my body against the water with a fierce glee. Then i felt an excruciating pain....... a metallic, cold and salty pain. It was very real. I am still feeling it while i type. i wish it would leave me.