LOVEVINE

In the golden light of a burning wax mold...
I see her twinkling eyes having the memories, old...
She was worried about the tomorrow that is untold...
I held her hand and promised to walk into the future, bold.

Under the night sky calm and dark...
I wish our love is always marked...with its entity as eternity...with its depth as divinity.
She is in my arms, warm and cozy...complementing the air, rosy.
It’s the darkness and a glass of wine...that trapped us in this love-vine.

She curled her lips and blew the candle down....as we kissed till the dawn gulped the night down.

Just 10 SHOTS OF VODKA BEFORE VIVA…innumerable after it.

1. First one down the ducts. Ah! I wish I studied man.
2. Second one. Einstein? He failed in Physics.

3. Third one. Four months wasted for each semester. It’s half the time a sperm needs to be identified as something close to human.

4. Fourth one. You don’t need wings to fly. All you need is the wish to do so.
5. Fifth one. Dean is a dick head, three hour of exam can’t judge a student’s potential.

6. Sixth one. Winds. Darkness. Clouds. She. J

7. Seventh one. She is like a capacitor that stores my happiness. She is like a step up transformer provoking the “thing” between my legs.

8. Eighth one. Life is a mess. Porn is my love.

9. Ninth one. Head hurts. My last facebook status. “I promise. No facebook till the end of the exam.”

10. Tenth one. She is sexy and I love her….more than I lust her.

And your oral cavity shoved with half a litre of SPRAYMINT…Be Viva Ready, you sit before the professor.

1^st question- “What is a differentiator circuit??”

I should have stopped at 3^rd or 4^th shot. I think I am overloaded. I knew it man…I knew…. Ah! Yes got it.

Student- It is something that differentiates all our happiness into sheer stress and distress.
Guys speak truth only when they are drunk.
Professor-What?? Are you drunk?

Student- Umm…yes!!

Professor- Get out…Just get out you fool.
Student- Mam I am really sorry. I can answer. Trust me. I can.
Yes, I can. I can tear your guts and use them to make the circuit connection. You bitch!

Professor- Okay, last chance.

2^nd question- “What is OP-AMP(Operational Amplifier)??”
The eight peg…no it wasn’t the real love. I love her more than a nude Monika Mayhem.

(In case you are drunk, scroll up and check what eighth peg meant for)

Answer- OP-AMP is she, who amplifies every single beat of my heart with every touch of hers. I really love her. Yes, I do.

I turn around to catch a glimpse of her.

Umm…she is a little embarrassed because of my pathetic condition. No worries. I will get her few chocolates and she will be happy once again. I wondered.

Professor- “What nonsense is this??”

Not more than the one sitting before me and asking crap.

Student- “Umm…”
Professor-“Get out of here right now. You get a zero here.”

Student- “Please mam….”

Professor- “Out! I said”

Shove your attitude up your ass.

I got up from the chair. My head seemed to spin more than what Shane Warne can afford to produce on the pitches of Melbourne. Unable to balance, I fell flat on the ground.

I boozed over my boozing skills. I should have really stopped at the ninth shot.

I looked at her and said- “You know, I really love you” Cleaning the dust off my trousers.

She showed me a raised finger.

Umm…I love that. She showed me her raised “ring finger”. Waoh…!! Even she loves me. She wants to get married to me.

It was actually a raised middle finger. ‘Fuck off’ is what she meant….but I didn’t get that.

Thank god, I didn’t stop at ninth. Tenth shot really paid off. Middle finger= Ring finger. Love you sweet heart!!

I somehow managed to crawl out of the room as I heard someone scream. One of my friend, I guess. I think he stopped at the fourth or fifth shot.

“Bhai...Don’t worry. College will send 25 out of 30 for internals…for all…irrespective of fifth or ninth.”

Ten minutes later. I was preparing the eleventh shot back in the dump yard of my hostel room. 

Jinke gusse me bhi mere liye pyaar tha…

I could see papa bent down to kiss your forehead…

I could see a drop of tear run down your cheeks...
I could feel papa caress my curled fingers and your eyes flood with tears of joy…
I was in her arms…looking at her face that shone in the joy of having me in her arms…
I just wanted to know- Who else would have lived the pain… Who else would have shed their blood…just to kiss my innocent face…

I could feel my papa’s finger in my clutch…
I try to get up holding it...I almost did, as papa kissed me to sleep…
I could hear her saying to papa, how quickly I will grow up and how strong I will become…may be more than my papa…
I am still in papa’s lap as she is feeding me while I am asleep…
I just wanted to know- Who else would have fed me before eating herself… Who else would have sung me to bed every day, just with the dream…that one day I will grow up…that one day I will be as strong as my papa…

I could feel her soft fingers combing my hairs…
I could see papa keeping new books in my beautiful red Doraemon bag…

I could hear her saying me to be obedient in the class…and papa…he always wants me to be strong…he told- ‘beta, do eat your tiffin’.

I went out with papa…I was looking grown up with a little bag on my shoulder and a Ben10 water bottle around my neck. Yes, just grown up…to attend the first day in school.
I just wanted to know- Who else would have got me ready… Who else would have asked me to be obedient…just with the dream to see her smile that she retained in all pain to earn a name in this world…

I could feel my shirt soaking her tears, as she hugged me tightly…
I could feel papa bless me with tears in his eyes…as I was set to leave home for a different city to my workplace...
I told her not to cry, papa held her shoulders and consoled her as she said- “Beta, maa hoon mai tumhari…chor ke chale jaoge toh rou kaise nahi…”

And I came to know the lady, behind my growing up. Who transformed me from an embryo to a little baby…and from there to a grown up human being. How can I let her eyes drench in emotions of sorrow that had seen countless dreams for me?? I couldn’t…
I hugged her back only to whisper- “I love you maa…Wo geet ekbar phir se ga do nah…jisse tum mujhe bachpan me sulati thi…”
And I could feel the curtains of my bedroom swaying to the early morning breeze gently brush against my forehead…I opened my eyes to find my mother sit beside me holding my hands just the way she did when I could barely straighten my fingers….the images of her fingers tucked in between my curly palm as I learnt to walk the first of the millionth step of my journey came flashing back.
“Happy mother’s day mama..” I wished her as she kissed my fingers.

Her eyes still had the tears…the tears that welcomed me to this planet a score back.
Those tears had the film of joy etched over it…and now it has pride shining to its full might.

You are the best mother…!!

TUMI ROBE NIROBE (You’ll remain silent in my heart)

With the light of dawn tracing its first streaks on the skin of the night shedding sky…and the air of living beautifully blanketed by the heart-warming melodies from the pages of ‘KOBI PRONAM’, the day couldn't have asked for a better start.

On his 152nd birth anniversary we heartily remember the legend whose words had been a constant source of inspiration to us. The person who made history with his ink dipped feather, sitting by the window that for us only opened to stretches of sun baked grassy lawns…but for him the window opened only to an endless canvas of serene imagination and heartfelt emotions. The person for whom the knowledge deciphered within the four walls of a classroom on a shiny black rocky plate held no meaning. Whose childhood images of water tickling down the leaves of the mighty trees and the insane elephant swaying its head (JAL PARE PATA NARE, PAGLA HATHI MATHA NAARE) found prominence in every mortal heart and almost every section of history that we fondly remember. The person who was the first Non-Russian Nobel Prize winner in the field of literature for his work ‘GITANJALI’, which means the song offerings(Git-Song. Anjali-Offering)very lucidly portrayed a strong devotional connotation…

With his native soil in JORASAKO getting painted to the colors of a festival and literature academies across the globe paying homage to the bygone poet, myself out here in Kolkata cramped to the occupancy of life, lost in one of his tracks caressing nostalgia, proudly looking back to the abundance of his glories; I try and frame a few words as a mark of tribute to the connoisseur of literature, RABINDRANATH TAGORE.

You left…only to live forever…

Where the endless ocean and the rumbling cascade would bow to your diversity…
Where the myth is devoid of a second you…

Where the eternity fails to describe you…
You left…only to live forever…

Where your words reignites the flame of living within the race of life…
Where your creations would make the architect of heaven envious…
Where the darkness of woods gets buried by the light of your vision…
You left…only to live forever…

Where your compositions fail to abide by the eight octaves…
Where our life jives to the notes of your unconventional…yet serene music…
Where our life and your creations are a blend that would melt any raging hurdle…

You left…only to live forever…

Regards,
Sobhan Pramanik.

WHY ME??

By Sobhan Pramanik

I was born like any other kid…till you drew the line of discrimination.

When their innocence was kissed
…I was earning myself a living.
When they danced to joy as their parents got them balloons

…I suppressed my hunger just to work longer.
When they were held by the caring arms of their childhood
…I was torn by the brutal present.
I don’t have any regrets; but one question. Why me??

When they played with their friends on the grassy beds
…I was walking the burning soil with shacks on my little shoulders.
When they got a bleeding knee, their mothers cleaned it with utmost care.
…I cried as my body hurt only to be scolded by the heartless master.
When they were being fed with care…

…I was left all bare.

I don’t have any regrets, but one question. Why me??

When they were groomed to dream of a grand life
…I shivered to see my grilling life.
When they went to school in tidy uniforms, to learn the laws of science
…I fought for my life in rags with shut conscience.
When they complained about the teacher being rude with them
…I never spoke a word against life that was literally beating me down every day.
I don’t have any regrets but one question. Why me??

Now when I see them talk about, how unfair life is…I just whisper to myself,

“You are lucky…I wish I was a part of your unfair journey…”