"There are moments of such pure, sublime, unparalleled perfection that they
will force you to close your eyes and hold on to them as best you can."

And inspite of everything
I hate to see the hatred in your eyes
I hate to see the brightness in his....
All...


For Me

Happy Puja To All

Come September, come Autumn time… Harsh summer is long gone, relentless monsoon season is almost over. The sky started changing colour from dusky angry grey to a turquoise blue, with puffs of white clouds like cotton balls, cotton-candy world, you could actually pick them and eat. The paddy fields are well-nursed from stagnant rain-water and acres of kash pool er khet are sights worth a million bucks.The soft glow of the sun, the mellowed heat, the robust wind, little less rain each day, little more winter each week.With the wind comes the sound of Drums. Faint at first, then picks up momentum and impetus as time approaches for the ten days of Durga Puja.The Goddess with her four children visits Earth, her father’s home every year from Her Husband Shiva's house in the Himalayas. So the legend goes. Mahishashoora Mardini, the slayer of the demons, the saviour of mankind. Mother God. The much awaited festival for the Bengalis.A month ago, the Kumartuli, the sculptors gather the special mud from the river Ganges to make the statue. One month or so. The Goddess takes form from formless mud and clay. Like a woman being born out of nothing. Born and re-born, in each one of them,in womanhood, in marriage, in childbirth. Colour, drapes, jewels, and the smile.Mother of Earth.Road blocking starts as pandaals starts to rise, take shape, ornamental homes for Her Majesty. Welcome the Goddess to her father's house, the Earth. Work slows, puja shopping begins, traffic rises like high tide, rivers of cars, buses, trams. Puja Shopping, after or before Puja bonus, taking place in full swing and of course “chada collection”.Its a matter of time now, the ten days to come, Day one starts with Mahalaya, a homage to the Goddess and holidays in schools. The face of the Goddess is hidden till the sixth day. And then on the last of the four days, the unveiling starts.Mad Frenzy begins, more than a religious fervour or dedication, it's the joy of celebration. An occasion for all, from morning till night and then the next 3 days of grandeur.The sound of drums take a deafening pitch.Acrid smoke from the yagna fill the air, lighting in the streets, in the side lanes, lights, sounds, scent, all to create an ambience, unseen and unheard off, anywhere in the world.Happy faces.Shining eyes.New dress every day. The crowded street of exuberant people, with pride, with love, with fervour.The drums beat relentlessly, vibrating the sentiments associated with a much awaited festival of the year.The sober “Ashtami’r Anjali”,the spiritual aroma of the “dhup”, the flaunting sarees, the girls’ checking out the “kartiks” in the crowd, the hand in hand romance of Maddoz Square, the “ shidur khela” , the “ashchhe bochhor aabar hobe” ……. outshines the rest.In the tenth day the curtain falls, the Goddess has to go back to where she came from. After the final biding rituals, the idol of the Goddess is immersed in the River Ganges, a little rise in the level of pollution in the seas , every year. Like Sati, she goes into the river.Drums die.Silenced for another whole year.All in the City of Joy.So, while the puja mania has just begun, let me wish you all a very happy puja.Enjoy
God Bless You All

Rain

It's raining right now,
With water drops glistening on the window panes,
Wasing the soul and rejuvinating desires,
Long abandoned by the sanes.

It's raining right now,
With drops glistening on the cheek.
Celebrating the failure
Of not acquiring what the heart seeked.

It's raining right noe,
And feelings are so pure.
Wish mascara being washed off,
Exposing the real self for sure.

It's raining right now,
But soon it will fade away,
With the fake smile returning,
When the sun will dry away the day.

-Abhishikta Chakraborty