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Showing posts from 2016

To Newspaper

You reach my doorstep at 7 o' clock sharp, Your loyalty knows no bounds, You pour forth tales from across the globe, Yet, I forever seem to shudder at the way you sound. Why do you have to blurt out stories of distress and death When pain plagues us all? Why do you have to be so very honest, Unnerving people immensely whenever something befalls? Newspaper, I better turn a deaf ear to you, And weave a world of my own, A world shielded from your scorching truth, Oblivious, peaceful and alone.

To Window

I loved keeping my windows shut, My room drenched in murk, Day in and day out, I savoured the frost, And the stillness that did lurk. You beamed in through a broken pane, Your radiance gleamed so bright, Holding forth this gloom anymore, Went utterly against my might. Each day I pined for the whole of you, The tiny crack never satiating my soul, So one fine day I broke open the glass, Lest this desire takes its toll! Now the soft zephyr strokes my hair, As the birds' euphony fills the earth, I keep gazing at the sky so seamlessly blue, But never and never again could I ever find you.

Memoirs of Bokaro

Etched with the ink of nostalgia there is a place that still holds my childhood deep within its womb, despite the fact that I was born somewhere else. The place is like a dormant dream to me, much like a vision that cannot be spun with the string of words how much ever I give it a try. It is something that comes to me only with my eyes closed, something that is forever carved on the canvas of my mind, about which no Google could tell you except for the Power Plant stations, because with all its fascinating nuances that make it, it was mine, and mine alone. The place as people call it is Bokaro Thermal and it lies somewhere within the present state of Jharkhand. My father got his initial posting there on his first job, much before I was born. It was where my parents stayed while I stayed back at Durgapur with my grandparents. I used to visit them at Bokaro, on every vacation and since then it turned into my “Land of Holidays”, a solace from the drudgery of school, exams an