Chena-achena-na chena

Taxi-alor golbritte brishtir abibhokto sikha...
rastar gale ebrokhebro dari r bronor ador..
jol akasher niche choto choto sahure jolabash..
ishan aloye tup tap jhore pora sonar kaner dul...
sunshan thikanaheen fonta guli anchre pore,
atol gobheer nirob sandhyabhanga sobde..
chena samay achena hoye thomke dnaraye
sei hothat tomay pratham dekha na chena baranday....

TARPOR....
tol khawa nadira janoik nalar moto boye jay,
goriye jay,sona golano samay....
saonlar angul pichle,pathure buke ghoshte
lal neel nurir thonth akataro chuye,-nirbikare
fireo chay na ektibaro,ekbarer jonneo!!!
yashodharar chokhe lege thake apekhkhar neel surma..
ARO EKBAR...
Ferari samay arekbar fire ashe golapi danay
natun kore,anno bhabe,tepantor periye..
paloke lege thake tin samudro satash nodir baspo..
seo to ek anya sandhyar golpo...
chena chokh,achena ghor,chena dukhho,
achena hawa,chena ghran,achena rong
chinte para ra barbar  na-chinte para gulike
prasno kore,chokh rangay,bhru kochkaye...
sab kamon abar hariye jay,dhusar neel gahbore
ba pure jay kono kalo sareeri rater arale...
chirotore...
TAFAT ta sudhu theke jay...
sediner brishti ta bujhi atota dushito chilo na....

subho march maash

aabir rangano khonik roktofaag
premik prakriti,
premika march mash
usko chule pornomochee ghran
susko twake anadar,anabhyash..
rongeen gondho,
rangeen faager gaan
matir sobuj chokhe neelche asman
premik prakriti,
premika march mash...........

NOVEMBER AND MY KOLKATA

A night with an essence of eeriness,
the grass merges with the dream of
outram ghats and winds down
along the lanes of victoria memorial
the lazy lips of the  colourful pebbles
kiss the dew drops,so passionately...
the alleys of the NEW MARKET
are stunned  spectators of the
invisible songs of our sweaty hands,
imperfect yet appear flawless in the mild chill....
the smell of the old and new books
wanders  from esplanade to college street
--fearlessly, without even a ticket...
the events of november revolutions reappear
from the pages of history as a red nostalgia...
the momos and smoky tea cups
crowd in front of nandan and academy.
hyping impatiently for the international film festival.....
the colourfull woolen empire scented with napthalene
 tastes freedom  again --after a long break....
the pride of a malls and the modesty of slums
warm themselves up with the FIRE of
NOVEMBER and MY KOLKATA...

BREAK UP happens

When the falling star on a serene night cries...
When the broken slumber on a beautiful morning sighs...
When the paused rain on a moist dusk screams.....
When the urge of making love stops after a huge fight...
When the desire of unseeability trounces your heart like hell but still...
When they are seen with someone unmatched the heart yells...
When missed calls and smses from the known number stops without any reason..
When the need of listening sad songs rise and fall unpredictably....
THEN ...
BREAK UP HAPPENS............