BLOGGER TEMPLATES AND TWITTER BACKGROUNDS

June 28, 2011

Joaquin

Joey,

It has been eight years.

You haven’t returned to the Oak-tree house.
You haven’t returned to the serene existence by the purple fire cackling in the fireplace.
You haven’t returned to the greetings of the conifers.
You have got lost.

Remember the night my parents fought so ugly that I wanted to run away to the kingdom to the East, the land of ‘National Happiness’ ? As they clawed at each other, and their respective dignities, I had to seek refuge under your coaxing and the endless efforts to cheer me up. As the grim night grew darker, Maria’s drums and your arms around me had kept me going. The very next morning, we went off. You, me and Maria, hitch-hiking towards what we thought was the East.Joaquin, remember the psychedelia brewing amidst the diminutive tea-stalls dotting the Himalyan highways? There was the rain, the songs, the terrace farms, and the rain-water channels, the Indian truck drivers, and their garish Hindee music. There was your guitar. The numerous odes to the days in the future, the way you would set everything right, for me. We were young, we had hope. We had mattresses housing mites and ticks, and makeshift beds made out of hours of dedication, strings of ropes, and wooden planks. And, we had the love. Insect-infested, optimistic, poverty-ridden, Sikkimese love.

Instead of going East, we ended up going West to Katmando Town. Natives we weren’t, Joaquin. I never even knew where your home was. Somewhere in the States, you had mentioned passively. You had told me to believe, and I had believed. Oak-tree house had become home. There was marijuana, there was money, there were midnight-treks, and Mandarin-Nazis. There was music, a lot of it. And the inflow of dollars, Joaquin. It was all for me, you said. Indeed it was. I had my poetry, my silence, and all the dollars. Maria had her drums, and we both had your company.

Your motherland then went to war with Iraq. We didn’t need to worry, you said. The invites started coming in. The ‘Prevent Civilian Casualties in the War on Terror’ music groups, that wanted you to represent our part of the World. The land of the calm, the Himalayas, was to be represented by you, Joaquin. You told me, it was art. It was no more about the money. It was about being human, you said. I knew your life was all about being human, Joey. Your humanity had saved me. How could I not let your humanity prevent the chaos in the Middle East? Of course, I hardly knew the gist of all the words you told me about World Politics, but I knew you were right.I let you leave, Joaquin. Not knowing there would be no more serenading at three in the morning. Not knowing that there would be no more breakfast by the conifers, painting the chimneys with the shades of our imagination, feeding the mountain-dogs in the evenings. I let you leave, never to see you again. I let you leave, to lose you to a stray attack by your motherland on the suspected terror-havens. They meant to slay the worshippers of terror, they said. They ended up blowing the worshippers of Art, to smithereens. They blew my heart, our world apart, Joaquin. Your land took you away from me.

Joaquin,

It has been eight years.
It is the evening of the Katmando Night.
They shall celebrate you tonight.

Will you come to Katmando tonight?
Will you let me soothe my mind,
Touch your being with my weary sight?

Joaquin, come with me to Katmando town.
I shall revel one last time, in your voice’s sound.
Your hair jet black, the eyes almond-brown.
Joaquin, I want you in Katmando town.

June 12, 2011

Rock-N-Roll Queen

Rock N Roll Queen
Where have I been?
All these years, fading silently away,
Away from the limelight's golden ray,
I feel lost, meant never to be seen
But once I was, the rock and roll queen.

Seven years of an unmatched reign,
Eleven records of a glamour, at the top
The people pining for a glimpse of mine,
They’d squeal and roar, they’d jump and hop
Unparalleled in my ways so mean,
Once I was, the rock and roll queen.

Driving down Milan, that man in charge
Josh Lucas, the Hollywood storm
Driving into a night, drunken delirium at large
A crash, one dead, one out of form
An instant collapse of all the sheen
Indeed since then, where have I been?

Rock N Roll Queen
Where have I been?
All these years, fading silently away,
Away from the limelight's golden ray,
I feel lost, meant never to be seen
But once I was, the rock and roll queen

June 8, 2011

Ainvayi

The long due Bangla translation of Ainvayi Ainvayi. This was created a long back, but never posted. So, I post it now. 'Co I am bored. Ainvayi. This one actually fits the original tune. Try to sing along.

Chokhe’r du dhaare,
Shurma mekhe re,
Chhokra gulo chaay hote
Hi-fi.

Hridoye koraat i,
Amaar chole jaayei,
AaNtke uthey mon bole
Why why?

Chaaye bheja biskut hoye gelam.
Aami toh emni emni
Emni emni lut-ey gelam...

Shore daraa re, kaora,
Jeno neem er i pakoda.
Pichhu korish keno
Kokhono dainey, baaye?

Toke shudhrobo naki?
Juto petabo naki?
Mathaay marbo naaki aaj i
Dhaay dhaay?

Romeo holi keno permit chhara?
Tui toh emni emni
Emni emni lut-ey geli...

Chul set korlam gel-tel diye re,
Buk phuliye, don boithok kori re,
Shundori haraali tui
Nijer chaal ta chele
Kotha’r pithe kotha’r
Basketball ta khele.

Gel dekhe meyera khushi hoy na moteyi,
Don boithok kore jibon kaate na moteyi,
Bhaloi jaani tor mone aache theek ki
Uddeshyo chhokrader bodlaay na moteyi.
Gur dekha macchi’r moto
Aatke geli.
Tui toh…
Keno amaar goli te opekkha korish,bol?
Achoron down-market korish, bol?
Dekhi jodi shoriye janla’r porda ta, pagol,
Sheesh baajiye khali birokto korish bol?

Chhar attitude, kokhono maan shundori
Bank-cheque chaash naaki praan shundori?
EeNter ei mon ta norom kor na ektu
Dekh, aami taagda jowan, shundori,
Chhoy foot theke dedh foot hoye gelam
Aami toh…

Here's to the most adorable Bollywood song EVER.

June 4, 2011

Every time an Abhinav Singh, an Adarsh Mukherjee or a Debanjan Sen leaves the world, there is a little less goodness left in the world. And, a little more disillusionment with the entity called God.

I do not know who or what saved me though. Luck, or love, I don't know what it was. All I know is, it wasn't God. Coz he doesn't exist.