Super-annuated

i met her at the station. we were going somewhere..

Versed in innumerable languages, she reads the news in three different languages and is sad that the rest are not found in the city. From palmistry to planchet, from Shakespeare to Tansen, from Chacha Chowdhury to Luann, she's been there done that.

As the roads rush past us, the linguistics of the word effect her but she does not move. she is sarcastic that the newspapers once spelled Sachin with a 'talebesh shaw' but now with a 'dontesh shaw' but the damage does not move her.

Literature, art, culture sift mix galvanise to educate her but education does not meet her senses.

i ask why?
all i hear is the lament of the word which is unable to reach the silence of its meaning.

the winner

He speaks of a dream he cannot live. At the threshold of a dream, that he spent all life building, I see him weary. His years of pursuit can be counted through the wrinkles on his forehead.

He has reached but does not know where to go.

Stonno Dayini.

She stood beside me on the train. It was Saptami and the train looked confusedly empty. i was clad in the latest fashion. She looked comfortable.

The woman looked at me gleefully. i felt awkwawrd and let out a faint crooked smile. "Aj doshti paykhana porishkar korlam. Shoma aj asheni to", her eyes gleemed. "Tai aro charte amar. Onek teka peychi".




"Amar mey tao kal tomar moto shajbe."