A Triptych of Romance

After watching last night POW episode I was thinking how to express why it is one of the best episode, according to me, of the series…then I recollect this poem of mine posted on 26th January as my ode to the Army (not only to Indian) on Republic Day…so felt reblogging this…

Thoughts of Words

The Act

The young Captain stands straight,  his head held high,–

As enemy marched forward in rapid fast way towards the camp of his company.

He gave the war cry “Bharat Mata ki jai“; the small troupe of forty joined in unison–

Sending chill down the spine in many of the enemy infantry–double of its number.

They hurled like wild lions, kept in captive for long, and released to hunt.

They progress like a regained power waterfall in monsoon, washing away–

The enemy infantry like a log get washed away in the strong current–

Of a fall down the river.

Breaking out of a war was stopped in one evening followed by the night–

As they fought to keep the Tiranga fly high on the peak.

As the SAFFRON sun bid the night and welcome the new day,

Country was safe, was in peace, was enjoying the tranquility;

Reading the…

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Episode 1: Chapter-1

  It was mid-April morning, a couple of days after the Naboborsho (Bengali New Year), the Mitra family, renting at the first floor of Bhattacharjee brothers' three-storey building, was busy more than usual, more than other days. The young morning sun was falling on the big king-size bed. The reflected light from the yellow-white mixed floral... Continue Reading →

Discovery of A Manuscript & Its First Few Lines

Thoughts of Words

15th January, ’17

2:00 AM

I’m struggling with a writer block for last seven days. Words and thoughts are just getting juxtaposed with each other creating a mess and increasing, in consequence, my suffering for not-writing. I was skimming through my old manuscripts which are assembled in a folder name “Store” when I came upon an old manuscript. The language was childish and the grammar was erroneous on the first page–as I read it absent-mindedly. An inner voice beckoned me to pick it up and read the full incomplete manuscript. So, I should go now and read my first attempt to write s’thing big…

From the Author’s Desk…

28th November 2014

After sitting for prolonged hours in front of the mirror and talking with my reflection most of the times; after taking lots of walks around the city; after emptying lots of cigarette pack I got the starting point of…

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Florilegium: A Dozen of Haiku

Thoughts of Words


Silent shouted–

Silence, thoughts seduce–

Words, page chuckle…


She lying naked,

Darkness blanket, coldness lover

She waited for dawn…


Fog levied–

Heavy on his hand, as the–

Cigarette reduce…


An old light quilt–

As donation, birthday–

Gift for his wife…


The wind, the soft sun–

Embraced him. He inhale deeply–

Outside prison…


She licked her slim lips,

Sweet or salty or…she licked–

Taste of the first kiss.


She looked down,

Drops of blood on her fair thigh–

Days of loss start now.


Searching a title,

Words, phrase, synonyms-

Poet exhausted…


Winter night, all calm.

Hustle was heard, from dustbin,–

As he cuddled self…


Newspaper fly away.

All laugh as the lunatic–

Runs for map to home…


Hunger, money,–

Another night is coming,

He ready to drop shame…


He was exhausted,

He had written a poem,–

But no one to…

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Let’s Talk About It…Let’s Face It…Darling(s)

Thoughts of Words


To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering.

Friedrich Nietzsche

There’re many issues in our everybody’s everyday’s life. We speak of them s’times seldom and not in general. The primary reason for this is what’ll be other thinking or what’ll be other saying or what’ll be my image; that’s why we keep our mouth tight lipped. Another reason is it’s my problem, not yours…let me face it alone.

Critics are men who watch a battle from a high place then come down and shoot the survivors.–Ernest Hemingway

Yes, darling(s), everyone has own fight to fight, but, actually, it’s good to speak to someone regarding your fight. I don’t know how it’ll sound but that “someone” shouldn’t be your Papa or Mama or Didi or Dada but it should be a dear friend of yours.

There are friendships merely for pleasure…

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Are We Taking Care?

Thoughts of Words


The books are being stacked against the stone walls for long now;

They are now feast for termites and others living–who lives by having papers as meals.

The walls are marked by dots and holes–some’re taped by papers, some’re not–

Creating a dotted collage on the mud floor.

The hands that are needed to turn the pages,

The fingers that are needed to be drawing or writing gibberish on the walls–

Are holding butts of Kalashnikov or AK-47 or pulling the ring…

Are we taking care of our own?


The words that evoke thoughts,–

(The thoughts) That’re needed to be appreciated are being condemned…

The Elder who should speak of this, spoke, but, for sentence…

The mass that is in need of the awakening, remain slept except Few…

The weekly blog goes missing,–

The blogger is (though) not missing–

She, alias he, (at that time) becoming kindle in a…

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