the morning, the dawn and the dusk

by Rahul Bhattacharya on Monday, 21 June 2010 at 14:31

there is no morning without a morning
no dawn before dawn
there is no joy without living
and no tune without a song


sometimes it is yesterday
maybe even tomorrow
but when lips are smiling
they wash away all my sorrows


there is no morning without birdies
no dusk without sunshine going home
there is no joy without living
even if the sky is my huge blue dome

more than words can say?

by Rahul Bhattacharya on Saturday, 26 June 2010 at 06:26

udhti udhti ek paanchi aayi
choti si thi nanni si thi
sabh chodke..udti udti woh sirf mere ghar ko aayi

bohut khele bohut naache
phir meine toka..phir uusne toki
phir uusne toki..phir meine toka
usne toki mei ne toka
aur ek din naraz hoke woh chali gayi


mei akele khidki pe behetha
socha..aacha hua who chali gayi
ghar gaanda..haar kone pe daana
paayri thi..paar aacha hua woh chali gayi

saaf ghar aur dookh bhara dil
dheere dhrere mujhe khata gaya
khata gaya khata gaya..aur mere dil ko rulata gaya
dur kahi who paanchi dikha
jaane bina honto mei muskan aaya

udhti udhti ek paanchi aayi
choti si thi nanni si thi
udthi udthi udthi woh ghar ko aayi


botul khele bohut naache
khuub khaye khuub ghoome
london ja ke rani ko bhi dekhe
yea kare woh kare
uudh jayi phir waapas aayi

aandar se daari hui thi
phir tokunga
saapna todunga


haar ghaar pe paanchi nahi aati hai
har dil ko itna khushi nahi milta hai
nahi tokunga kaabhi uuse
choti si hai...nanni si hai
khuda ne mere paas bheja tha uuse
mere zindagi saajane ke liye
bus..itni si hi baat hai

5 hrs past midnight

by Rahul Bhattacharya on Thursday, 01 July 2010 at 04:58

dont want them to think any thing
this is jsut a hoax for them
when they see just this
they will have no idea of the theme

you always have known that i love to fuck you
want you to know that i love you more

you have always known that i love to eat you
want you to know that i love you more
you have always known that i love to be fed by you
want you to know that i love you more
you know that i love it when you like the worst of my poetry
want you to know i love you more
as you sleep tight..and as your love makes me happy and sleepy
i know that that i might love all your habits
but i will always love you more

boo rain

by Rahul Bhattacharya on Monday, 05 July 2010 at 23:21

rain
rain
rain
rain
rain
to my water nymph..fro the net somewhere
Stand in the rain
Whisper in the rain
Cry in the rain
Dance in the rain
Sing in the rain
Scream in the rain
Live in the rain

just another story

as we walk the sun begins to set
the allure of the night and its darkness rises
months spend on tearing the fabric
now trying to put together a beautiful patchwork piece
the little bird, the window and the tree
patterns that emerge as the patchwork jigsaw grows

form a girl to a woman
the story goes on and on

as we sleep the moon begins to set
the allure of the dawn and the dew laden buds of baby pink roses
months spend flying so far away
that there was no longer any wind beneath my wings
the little bird, the window and the tree
begin to emerge as i fly closer home.

form a girl to a woman
the story goes on and on

went for a walk but my knees were bent

by Rahul Bhattacharya on Monday, 12 July 2010 at 04:41

no trust
no shit
mindless indulgence
heartless dependence


no heart
no soul
a shadow of a soul mate
memories of a trust that would never forsake

we can run
we can hide
breathing in though a small pink skirt
always thought i could never get hurt

yes sir
no sir
the nursery rhyme went
went for a walk but my knees were bent

not worth fighting

by Rahul Bhattacharya on Thursday, 04 November 2010 at 14:34

a smile on a fragile face
moser
mornings
nights
the last rains of the monsoon
window sills
birthdays
tiny hands
coffee rent
the cramps in her stomach
the strength of magic
many many broken cups
a house by the lake

collateral damages of an army assault
in kashmir
in delhi
in kolkata
in nagaland

don't feel like fighting back
the army has no conscious
its not worth fighting against

the smile upon my face

by Rahul Bhattacharya on Friday, 12 November 2010 at 02:16

you see the smile upon my face
you even clicked my best memories
black coffee and cigarettes are my only friends
you had to go, could have gone with grace

and then the stars shine upon your face
and confuse me with a cruel mix of memories
no home left now i know that for sure
i just drop in a promise to leave without a trace

but you will always see a smile upon my face
even though you clicked my best memories
black coffee and cigarettes are my only friends
you had to go, could have gone with grace

my letter to a hmming bird

by Rahul Bhattacharya on Friday, 12 November 2010 at 21:12

fresh as a morning dew on a lotus petal
that's how you came to me
the innocent soul who climbed my stairs
that's how i will remember thee


showered by your  promises
showered by your love
smitten by your hunger
i held your hand and smiled at the heavens above

tiny hands for the junkies soul
the gods had sent, or so i was told

the innocent soul who climbed my stairs
that's how i will remember thee
will try my best to understand
all the lies you said to me

A short note...taking off from HG Arun's photograph: The Other (from the series Feed)

by Rahul Bhattacharya on Thursday, 10 September 2009 at 06:45

A short note...taking off from a photograph: The Other (from the series Feed)


Images set off associations....a late saturday night party..staying up post party...reading some Tehelka back issues. This work of Arun's flashed across my mind as read through a report on the Sang Parivar's enterprise of making cow urin cola. So enamoured we are with our tradition, that we think lacing soda and poison with cow urin (gau jal) and calling it is our best retort to American cultural imperialism. This image came flashing back as I read on...and the head of the Haridawar based gau shala and manufacturing unit ( run by the Cow Protection Board of the RSS) was passionately explain how they built up a caste system, the caste hierarchy of the ox...he went on to talk about how it was scientifically proven that cow urine has beneficial for heath in an all encompassing way. I began to wonder what stops us from engaging a bit more closely with our common sense.

One does not need to a skeptic to realize that the properties of urine are dependent on consumption habits. Since Agnivesh Tantra was written ( a 4th century AD text containing the seeds of Ayurveda) the consumption habits and availability of fodder for cows in the sub continent have drastically been altered.
Am my mind woke up and started racing lazily I remembered an Indian Express article mentioning that the Cow Protection Board has been injecting steroids to increase urine production (administered with steroids to increase milk production), one did not know whether to laugh or to cry.


-------------
a note added by a friend:
Everything is distorted. The more i think about it, the more it seems that we function mostly due to our ability to distort what we see. Ugliness is masked under necessity, kitsch and charm, under a string of terms designed to subdue a need to cry foul at a visceral degradation of most things around us. steel and glass seems acceptable, until you step out of the city and notice it surrounded by hills and it finally dawns on you that there's something wrong with what you have accepted.

 
Image details: medium: digital photograph on archival paper, astroturf Size: 47" x 28" x 3"; unique work ( 119 x 71 x 7.7 cms) Exhibition History: Shown at the Nature Morte , and the Sakshi gallery. sold. Buyer unknown

with grit and in despair

by Rahul Bhattacharya on Wednesday, 28 April 2010 at 01:06

its not that i have nevr taken this path
never had no qualms about picking up a bag and walking alone
its just that a hand feels good when you know the rains have washed away your home
the pain of the absent hand..maybe its better to just pick that bag and walk alone


my home may not stand no more when i reach
home is where the heart is
heartlessly down a un trodden path
holding onto my home with grit...but in despair
feel the need to throw away the bag...to pick myself and walk alone


its not that loneliness is scary
have had my best nights alone..under the starts
but then home is where your heart is
the starlight night weeps at her heartless lover
fighting back his tears with grit but in despair

the twinkel in those eternal eyes
lashed away by the torrential rains
i will pick my bag and come to you one last time
with no grit..no despair
just to gather all my strenghts to be able to pick up my bag and walk alone

a lil maroon watch

by Rahul Bhattacharya on Monday, 25 July 2011 at 22:24

it was november in kolkata
but every-time i could take a breath
i could feel the cold.

that when you came to me
dignified and un assuming
just as your wearer used to be

time had stopped in its tracks
to pay homage to to the lady with the brightest eyes i ever knew
as time stood still...i held you and looked at you

a call came in that night
a lil voice calling from far
the heart felt warm...thinking you wont be alone

then a month later i learnt
you were a lil burden..
destined to be returned.carried you back with love...

promising i will never let ypu be alone
hid you, taking you out to kiss you sometimes
carried you back with all my heart..yet for you time had stopped

heart sinks feeling your loneliness
more so cause i know you are forgotten by now
all i can do is look at you and kiss you again