post Aila.

today i realised how flawed our entire method of voicing protest is,in this state.and if there is anyone to blame,it is us.it is us who have acted indifferent to the most idiotic forms of protest in the city.
we are the ones who took a detour when a politician decided to lie down at Hazra More to voice only one of her thousand and one problems with our government.we sighed and shook our heads when the same politician lay prostrate in some other busy junction.
what we never realised that each time we walked past something as stupid as this,we contributed generously into legitimising such foolery.
today it came biting right back at our asses when few local groups decided to stall traffic,in order to voice their anger at not having electricity for several hours on end.they just decided to block any road at any time they wanted to-forcing people to get off buses or autos and walk miles to get to their destination.the funny part is that,also caught in that maze of traffic was the crane that was supposed to pick up the fallen tree that had been uprooted resulting in the snapping of the electricity lines.
you might say that it's all easy for me to say because my house had its electric supply intact.let me tell you i spent my day working in a 250 years old building for seven hours without electricity.
we have to realise that the cyclone is no one's fault and no government,i repeat NO government in the world has quick fix measures lined up for such events.if you can recall,New York City collapsed following a massive powercut a few years back and Japan,which has been affected by earthquakes throughout, collapses under each new earthquake.
i know it is difficult to live without electricity but it is hardly a reason to let go of one's civility.because no matter how much it is hard to believe,it is a fact that no government-Left,Right,Centre or Diagonal-asked for the Aila.
in a city which thrives on its intellectual prowess,it is sad to see people lose their civility and become just thoughtless beings who are so frustrated that they cant keep their frustration to their own filthy bodies!
Calcutta,civilisation deludes you.

1705

Did you see the circus unfold yesterday?
Were you watching when the red clowns fell from their trapeze,
While the green clowns balanced on their one wheeled cycles with ease?
Did you see the smiles they painted on their faces
With the war paint left from the long forgotten war?

Did you cry when the red clown made the green clown trip,
And laughed when the green clown boxed the red clown’s ears?
And sighed when they both fell off the ball they tried balancing upon?
Were you relieved at getting back your money’s worth,
As you sat clapping at the acts they put up?

And did you see them when they rubbed their painted smiles and tears off,
When all the shades of red and green became black?
As black as the soot that gathered on the portrait of our slain hero-
After days of candlelight vigils.
And as black as the ink that stained a million petitions.

Did you see the clowns when their black hands
Got stained with the blood of the people all around?
And did you see their black feet-
When they broke into an animated dance,
After hearing the sound of the bomb?

Did you see how pleased all the clowns were-
Now neither red nor green,
When the smell of blood touched their nostrils,
And tickled all their senses within?,
While we ran about chasing our flimsy dreams of change.

Did you leave after the show was done,
Laughing all the way home?
Or did you wait to see the clowns share the last laugh?
Did you watch carefully as the tables turned on us,
And we became objects of their inexpensive joy?

We are meant to dance to their songs and provide for their whims,
And serve with our heads when they need to try their bullets.
We are meant to clap when they play with our brains,
And collect our respective pieces of cheap, ephemeral fun.
Welcome to the circus of the red and green clowns,
Where this is how things get done.

for the wet neonlit streets and OD...

I missed my camera more than ever today…when we stood watching the rains bathing the neon lit streets, when we stood barefeet on cement while our shoes got wet…

I wanted to capture each moment when we gathered raindrops on our palms… I wanted to keep those wet handprints intact, even after the cement soaked them into itself.

But maybe it’s better this way…it’s better that no one ever got to saw two girls run down the streets and how they stopped to take their shoes off.

Maybe it’s a good thing that no one saw us when we decided to stop running and walk very slowly instead, when you decided to stand under that tree whose leaves were dancing to the wind and when we shrieked with joy when we splashed water with our feet…

It’s a nice feeling that no one will speak of that moment when we ran with drenched clothes and wet hair…except those few neon lights and those trees who decided to sway to the howling wind with us.

Remember this day, OD, which no picture will talk of…remember this day because there’s nothing else to remind us how we became the little girls who live on forever deep inside our hearts.

sometimes words fail to describe the magic you weaved.
all i have is my humble homage-a silent prayer with my head bowed down~
that you continue weaving that same magic with my thoughts,with my pains and your words.

"Aamar shure lagey tomaar hashi,
jemon dhheuey dhheuey robir kiron doley ashi.
Dibanishi aamio je firi tomar shurer khonje,
hothat e mon bholay kokhon tomar banshi...."

i saw it from where god sees it everyday.
it looked like the veil of a bride...studded with little pieces of dreams that glow in the dark.
as i got closer,i could make out her shy eyes which looked out in eternal anticipation.
and when i finally touched her face,she smiled.
and i knew,i was home.