Thoughts to Words

I am the captor and the captive dissected into two halves but joined together with stitches that a common man's eyes fail to see. A part of me dreams to be set free and the other holds me like a dead tree using all its dry branches and roots to coil itself around me. It hardens its wholesome grip and I am incarcerated for its sustenance. It is as though its sniffing the air inside me to regrow from where it was declared defunct. It oppresses me and is fanatical about winning the challenge of life. If it loses then hell will break loose. Not that it hasn't already but it would technically pulverize my other half and set it ablaze. I am the captor and the captive who gave up one life to save another. ©songbriti

Window railings, in maroon. Evergreen vines climbing on it, in directions seemingly predestined. The sun sank below the horizon, bestrewing the sky with spectacular colors. She came flying with more firmness, in her right wing, wounded by a foe. Perching on the rails, of the window, during the darkness, of the astronomical twilight, tending to the pain, and curing it. On the Equinox of March, the queen arose to fly with strength, and unsurpassed wisdom in her kingdom. ©songbriti

Identities concealed under usernames, insecurities veiled. Strangers in town; busy typing messages. A multitude of emoticons to denote emotions. Questing for assurance, and some sort of comfort. Editing vigorously and filtering the supposed mistakes. Candid clicks, and display pictures. My, my! Naturalness so distinct in virtual avatars. LOL, ROFL and Aww, working wonders! © songbriti

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Hate disperses into the ether, brain-dead wars thwacking lives, dried blood drinking drops of oblivion, filtering brutality, a reflection of cupidity. Manifesting nirvana, in the face of turmoil. Eath- an anagram to hate. Sardonicism flaunting its acerbic tongue. ©songbriti

A swift landing on the leaf, then uplifting yourself a little higher to rest on the jasmine, wings coloured in yellow and black striped markings. Winter and the winds are full of beans, but the forest is a cosy blanket, sleep without worries, we are an united family, two legged beasts who pretend to have ethics are banned in our human territory. © songbriti

People got replaced, Relationships changed, You have adjusted quite well, You smile and laugh, Party hard, You are doing fine in life, You have got everything you need. Every 'thing'. But you have given up on love and living. You are just fine...nothing much. © songbriti

Nurture your children with love and care, they are the saplings, who are here to stay, they will stand tall and strong, with their roots having their backs, growing up to be the pillars of a better place. © songbriti

Wreath of wrong deeds, honouring the evil. A deep rift, thunder in it, drifting to the right then the left, heavy footed, shredding cries, when clouds fight, worsening the plight of the skies. © songbriti

It is an auspicious day for me today. I am supposed to be celebrating Subho Nobo Borsho (Bengali New Year). This is how my new year begins: "Nine-year-old girl raped in Surat, body found with 86 injuries."- Hindustan Times. A country which feels proud about its culture and values has embraced inhumanity today. Where are we going wrong? The fault lies within us. The root of the problem exists in the way we are brought up. I have given up on the law and the system. I urge all the mothers to teach their children the meaning of humanity before asking them to be toppers in school. Empathy has disappeared from our society. We are an underdeveloped country. A country which cannot protect children, is not developing from any angle. This is not the India our freedom fighters envisioned when they sacrificed their lives for us. While a part of the nation is celebrating some festival or the other, a child/woman is being raped. India, you render me speechless. © songbriti

The power of the pen is believed to be the mightiest of all the weapons. I see people participating in candlelight marches, holding placards which have eye-catching slogans either hand written in bold letters or printed. Voices screaming and protesting against child rape for days. Asifa Banu was born in the land of political corruption. The little girl's innocence was stabbed and this is not the first time a gory incident like this has taken place. Children cannot participate in a #MeToo campaign or they cannot file a case against the criminals. They need a judicial system which can protect them and provide them the justice they rightfully deserve. But laws and amendments in the land of political corruption are made to waste time and resources. Who are we even seeking justice from? From lawmakers who are swindlers. Bravo! How sanguine are we? In a few days time, the media will stop being outrageous about what the pure soul Asifa suffered and it will prepare itself for the next

I gaze at a black Lamborghini at the traffic signal with desire in my eyes from the autorickshaw. "What would it feel like to own one?", I think and start dreaming. Daydreaming in summer can give you headaches if you don't have an enormous bank balance. There is an ultimate economic divide in India between the rich and the poor and to think of the situation pragmatically, it will take more than a hundred years if not less to bridge the gap. In between the gap lies the middle class, the group which gets pasted like the mayonnaise in a sandwich. Where security is the only concern and dreams are kept as doormats. Wipe your feet on them and never look back because let us face it, the money we have is limited. This average life is suffocating, and irritating when living becomes a 9-5 affair with bills acting as Wind Chimes.  Swim with lakhs of others in the same direction. Getting to the shore or not is out of syllabus because all you're swimming for is your security.

When was the last time you wanted those golden days back and if you don't mind me  asking then what did you do about it? The people whom you value, the people who you wish to reunite with, the people who gave you their time and love, need to know what they mean to you. They have all the right to be  cognizant of how much you miss their company.  These lucid moments are an essential part of life. Bottling up feelings has never done any good so far. Being vocal about how you feel has an advantage, you feel healthy and happy. Why do you want to lose the chance of getting back the good old days? Days when your happiness was at another level. Lift the heaps of stones which make life seem complicated. Chuck it out. Illuminate the cruise of friendship with smiles, laughter, hugs, high fives, tears, and reunions. There are no broken dreams there, only a few minor cracks which can be repaired with love and care. ©songbriti

When your faith in relationships begins to falter, Even the most genuine person fails to make it alter, Thrusting deeper and twisting itself into old wounds are tiny but nocuos glasses, Agony bleeding and forming clouds, Sullen sky, tainted by hollowness. ©songbriti

Kaboom... and it's gone! There, see the wheels of your ego just got punctured, the stepeny too got shot with a water gun. Are you thinking about filing an FIR? But no one saw what happened. Did something happen? The roads cannot talk. Hence, nothing happened. Nearly two decades later when you grow younger after using the well-known Botox Lovely Cream, the accused will be dragged occasionally to play Paintball with you. You can avenge the loss of your ego there. Hit him hard with those paintballs and drive away before anyone spots you. If you are interrogated about the incident, then rush to the gym and get your body photoshopped. The Selfies Right Activists love you and no matter what happens they will always be loyal to you. Yet, after all your hard work if you still get caught, then life is just not being human. ©songbriti

The mountains of Kashmir have been inflicted with the echoes of gunshots and bombs since 1947. The snow melts, the sun rises and sets but the valley remains stained with pain, anger, distrust and is being pelted by the barbarism of terrorists and militants for years now. I will not claim that I can understand what it feels like to live in a place where there is political unrest everyday. I have not faced any situation even close to the one happening out there in Kashmir. I did not experience the loss of a loved one due to a bullet. I did not shiver feeling terrified about my safety every minute. How can I then say, "I understand." Ages ago, Emperor Jahangir called this place 'Paradise on Earth'. He was totally right back then. The beauty of the place is impeccable. You could write endless pages describing its charm. But, if he were alive today, he would have been in a fix to find one precise metaphor to describe Kashmir. Kashmir which is struggling to find its iden

The next time some alien with a muffler addresses me as his Mitr (Friend) cause he thinks I am the lucky one with a singular enviable fortune to fall for his words, I will take some Italian Alfredo Pasta and shove it up his mouth. With all due respect to non-violence, I am asking you to keep your "Pro- Let me be your Savior" ideology away from me. You never know when I might feel overexcited and take my brand new slipper (white in colour with a blue strap) to throw it in the same manner as a frisbee towards your face. I have fought battles you cannot imagine in your worst nightmares. I fought it all by myself and then I learnt to give a flying fuck about people. People who are good orators but when it comes to keeping one's word, they run away like a diamond jewellery owner turned thief. They go on a permanent vacation to an exotic island, away from their native home to taste the most expensive wines over there. You can ask Google about the keywords - diamond, jeweller

How do you train yourself to learn backstabbing? Is it a tough course or do you have the aptitude and inborn talent for it? Apparently, loyalty is equivalent to rocket science and not everyone has a high EQ (Emotional Quotient). I completely understand. Those people with a low score in loyalty have my sympathy. But hey, opting for backstabbing as the main theme of life? You know there's something called peace and then there's something called sleep. How can one peacefully sleep after working like a slave for the demons both around them and inside their minds! Seriously, working in double shifts sounds pathetic. It does have an indelible influence on inhumanity but what a stressful job it must be to work with your shackled head. I am an optimistic soul, I believe you can always work hard and bring about a change in your life. For example, you can always change the theme of your life and start with the basic course in loyalty, I am confident that you can do it. I wish you all t

The music played loud, then louder and lastly the loudest it ever could. The train which was at quite a distance a few seconds back came closer and closer, I could see it arriving with speed.  The train passed by and I was sitting on a bench in the station. Railway stations in my country have seen both journeys and endings. They have seen people running for their livelihood to earn some money and they have seen heartbeats being smashed to death only to rest in a morgue for days or even months till their cremation.  Accidental deaths are very unfortunate. It leaves the family members of the deceased heartbroken and shocked. But, their lives do go on. Such is life, accept the loss and keep going. I got up from the bench and walked away to get rid of a child asking me for money. The begging industry is flourishing these days and I did not want to contribute to their success. Yes, I am heartless that way, you can bet on my insensitivity and you will be a millionaire soon. The parallel

Lines who have been half-heartedly written, I am your sinner, a few more minutes with honest feelings, a little attention and effort would mend the gaps wrecking your aesthetic glow. I am your sinner, you had the potential of doing wonders with yourself. I held you back, tied a knot with your wings keeping you within bounds. I am your sinner, deep down I know in my race to get a perfect ending which did touch hearts, I stole your honour. You are true winners and I am a selfish sinner, conscience-stricken and ashamed. I hope you can forgive me. ©songbriti

In a ferryboat beneath the iconic hanging bridge, in the city of joy, her hands shared with the modest river a wish bottle, a message of love it had, etching ripples of romance on nature. ©songbriti

You are my oasis, life without you is parched, I wrap my smiles around your light. The stardust in your eyes, travels miles with me to reach la-la land, our home where I rest peacefully in your arms, thanking the Almighty each night. ©songbriti