29 (A Birthday Post)



This street knows me very well; has seen me grown up.

This street had taught me to cross the road and to learn varied car brands.

This street is what I adore; where I walk lorn when I need a shelter from all humdrum.


The school that I had studied is not a small one. The teachers who were there had retired

Or had left the school. Still, when I meet them, they talk to me like am that spectacled kid.


One is not in contact for a decade; it was me who had stopped the conversations.

We had a fallout on a girl; he loved her I loved her. My first love was that.

These days when I think of once, I think if I could bring those days back.


One is not in contact for half a decade; time, at first, then, life is the reason sole.

He dreamt of becoming an Indian cricketer; playing for the country.

Last time I saw him, we talked on he had become a nine to five employee.


One is going to get married a few days later; I’m waiting for this day for so long.

He is the first with whom I had my first drink. He is the one who had been there

Whenever I needed help, whenever I needed a consultation.


One is busy with life; Facebook, Whatsapp all we’ve; his birthday is same day, not month.

We start off, being foe nineteen years ago, and ended up being friends, being a team

working together. He is a brilliant handsome guy with no affair, no addiction.


One has got married and now a wife of a lawyer; living in Delhi; she was my closest once.

She was the only girl for who I didn’t fall and she knows that well. We do not talk much

now but when we do Apocalypto has also to sitbeing despised.  She is my angry teacher.


One is a busy entrepreneur; I like her; I had told her, but, she had said nothing ’til now.

We don’t meet much. We don’t talk much. But, when we talk I let her do the talking

Because I like to listen to her. She carries a vibe of positivity around her.


One is my brother from another mother; he’s there when I broke down;

He’s there when I need to be clicked; a score and a four our friendship running its show.

We quarreled, argumented enough to severe the tie, but, it’ll never happen I know now.



I had grown walking in these alleys, bylanes, byroads. I’ve known my city through it.


The store that is at the bylane, few minutes from my home, was the first from where

I bought my first cigarette and lightened it there; keeping an eye around. I was late-

seventeen then; the wine shop that is few minutes from the shop is from where I had

My first bottle of vodka; I was in late nineteen then. Street, friends all have changed now.



I don’t know what owning a house means. Here and there and still I am a tenant with

Ma. I had grown up in different houses, different streets, different neighbors. And I

what I today is of all these factors, all these aspects.



I had cried first when Didi left for his in-laws house after marriage.

These streets had seen us growing up. Had seen her love story getting unfurl.


Now they see her with her son every morning or evening on way to school or

Park. The park that is there just a few minutes from my home had seen me carrying

The lad for an evening stroll or taking him for the pandal hopping during Puja.



The road that goes by turn into crossing the new police station, there lives the man

Wisest I’ve ever met. He was not my teacher, but, also the one who used to read my gibberish poems When I had started writing. From him, I came to know of my father a lot.

Gibberish poems when I had started writing. From him, I came to know my father a lot.


At his place, in his tuition, we met. The bylanes, bystreet, neighbor had seen us roaming

Hand in hand. I do not remember whether it had rained or whether there were the roads

were full of fallen leave when I had held her hand first time.


Now she is a mother of one little daughter. And one of the dearest friend I have from my

Growing period. Love, you ask nothing there. Because we were young, we were

Recognizing the world then.  So discard that thought, mon ami(e).



Changes are inevitable. That’s why the field where I and my friends used to play or

Chat; where the annual fair and many more small fairs used to held is now a stadium

With a mall beside. There are apartments, expensive buildings demolishing the old.


The stretch of bypass that used to be desolate almost after nine, is a busy one. The

Darkness cannot be found as they are halogen lighted. The number of vehicles, public

Buses have increased. This street has grown with me one can say, I can comment.



The road that leads to the Petrol Pump, where the Durga Puja is a popular one

Had seen me walking with her in a wet April evening. Weaving dreams besides

Giving her a walk through the streets names and where can they lead to.


The Mall, I mentioned, had seen us on a date for the last time. The street that leads away

From there had seen us traveling for the very last time together. The street is witness to

Many of my life happenings.


A few months later it had seen me walking back home in drunken footsteps with my

Office colleague. I hadn’t cursed her, but, had lament for her. This street, these bylanes,

These bystreets had listened to them.



She had come to our home on a September evening and had leave one April evening,

One year and seven months later. She used to stand there at balcony looking out at

The street. She liked to keep standing there and with failing eyes used to look at the

Crowd, at the people, at me going to the office, at Ma going to the office.


This street has taught Ma how to ride a bus for the office. This street had seen her going

To her office on the first day with her father. This street had also carried his hearse–

I was seven then. I vaguely remember him. Helping me to board the school bus.



The street has seen me grown up. The street has carried the last journey of my Dadu,

Dida. The street had let me walk with my lovers. This street also accompanied me

When I need to talk to self or need to be calm. At night, it is my muse.


The street, the people, the shops, the shop owners all know me by name. Some like me

Also. Due after due, order after order–they never said a word to me except few.



A decade or so from now, when I’ll bid farewell, I wish of a wet April morning or

Melancholic dry leave-filled street of November to carry me.


That day, my friend, do not follow me. Do not crowd behind my hearse. Because I

Do not want the street to feel left out. Instead, celebrate my farewell not my life.






99 responses to “29 (A Birthday Post)”

  1. This street doesn’t have
    A birthday today so why
    Bother to sing about it
    Let’s celebrate your life instead
    Happy Birthday Sangbad !!
    It’s all about you today
    Have a great day ahead !!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks Cherry…few lines were wrote for the street few days back…later I amalgamated it with my poem to showcase my journey of life…

      Liked by 1 person

        1. Your post reminded me of this song of Ed Sheeran
          About old country lanes
          About friends who went on to become a particular person

          Liked by 1 person

          1. I know this song…This type of song is there few like I can’t recollect the song name or its artist…the singer had been back to his town after 20 years or so…it was sang in 80s…and this song is my current favorite…I like this song more than his Shape of You…

            Liked by 1 person

            1. Okay
              Good to know birthday boy
              You are one year and two months and two days younger to me

              Liked by 1 person

              1. okay a riddle way to tell your birthday as well as age…

                Liked by 1 person

                1. Maybe though not intended to be

                  Liked by 1 person

  2. Wow Sangbad loved your poem you have so beautifully penned down your life in it. Happy Birthday and have a rocking day. Great poem.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks man for these kind appreciating words…

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Happy birthday🙂 have a great year ahead!! Gbu.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Lovely… Happy Birthday…. God Bless.😊😊😊🎂

    Liked by 1 person

        1. yup…will have one…

          Liked by 1 person

  5. Wooaah! This calls for a celebration. Happy Birthday Mitra. 🙂


        1. How is my poem by the way…


          1. Amaaazzzinnng. 🙂 Loved it you have literally penned down your life in it. 🙂


            1. Yup…life till now…

              Liked by 1 person

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