Category Archives: Love

Heart’s Verse



What am I without you?

Sunken ship or abducted plane

Flat tires or derailed train

What am I without you?

Corrupted i-pod or west Bengal drama

Stolen Playstation or rage-less Tamil cinema

What am I without you?

Tempered truth or faithless prophet

Updated bible or a losing bet

You are my fame in a bottle or shortcut to happiness

Perfect symphony or a rescued princess

As I sum this up hear me out my darling:

You are the difference between everything and nothing


If clouds were my ride and bolts were the fuel

I’d wait outside at 8 for my ‘_ _ _ _’ the Jewel

If Leopard could lend the legs or birds had spare feather

I’d challenge speed of light no matter what the weather


You are…

Purest drop of water when oceans running dry

Last flicker of courage when hopes a far cry

Best piece of Mozart in a world without sound

Answer to most important question; that was searched but never found

You are…

The journey I relish

The memory I cherish

The beauty and the grace that

Makes my constellation falling into place


Cruise in the oceans then climb over mountains

No matter where ever you roam… I’ll be your home.

Through with restless days, numb feet root in ground,

Weary heart says, ‘Hold her’… you’ll have my shoulder.

Where ever your fate’s driven; below hell or above heaven

Our hands will be clasped together… any option given.

You are mine till the day sun doesn’t shine,

Million verses will be ‘a few’, just know that:

I was destined to love you.


I write my verse in million stars

Length goes beyond moon to mars

Someday when I won’t be around

Stars will whisper the songs in sound

Listen to that interstellar melody

All be about you ah! Sweetened irony

When your heart’s too heavy and reason is me

Know my sweet love it’s meant to be

Where ever I stay no matter how far

Will read your wish on every shooting star.


It’s rush of love to brush up stain

to crush all emotions into heart

Trusted nobody could’ve casted a spell

that busted uncertainties from my chart.

I’m odd and you are even it’s fate that we met

as different as it can get

But oh! My cute pet you bet

without us getting together there’d be

an incomplete number set

Love is so pure more like a cure

heals you for sure once you fall in

From the first sight, it feels so right

I held on tight saying ‘I’m all in’

I’m what you didn’t have

and you are what I wished for

Pray so that I love you forever

And your love grows even more



A Predestined Tragedy of Our Accepted Destiny


Let me tell you about a cute little pink lump of flesh casted with most enchanting spell of all called ‘life’. It was 75th minute of my uninterrupted glance at this baby while all my thoughts concerning his predestined future reeled on in my head like a film. As I landed on reality runway, I felt his fingers clasped around my thumb, I saw his tiny feet kicking the air over hospital bed and his eyes blinking with surprise while last drop of tear streamed down to pillow leaving trace of salt on both sides of his face. He was not crying anymore. Only blinked. May be he was tired but I’m pretty sure he was shocked about one of those cruel jokes life had pulled off. Before his 75th hour on earth, the angel of death took his mother away a day after this Mother’s Day. Irony. I could not resist myself from kissing him. Then I could smell scent of purity and innocence. Knowledge that Rules of God can neither be bent nor be broken, shattered my heart into shredded pieces. I am useless uncle of this child mourning death of my cousin.

Only that day I was shuffling through the old photos I stored in my cloud account. I found myself giggling thinking the silly deeds we did to bully her husband and to haunt guests on her pre-wedding and wedding occasion. Seem like yesterday we were rowing boat to go fishing. She would catch most fishes and we could only hook crabs or broken tree branches. She made fun of us saying ‘Don’t worry; I cook delicious crab soup with branch stew’. She liked muting corny Deshi films and reciting humorous made-up lines that turned it much more entertaining. She was my indulger of many childhood wishes, she was my company in afternoon walks, and she was pickle in a tasteless day and story in an uneventful time. She was my charming big sis. One day I hope to tell this cute little lump of flesh all the stories about his amazing mother.

I picked him up cradled him in my arms. I started humming with heaviest heart. For now, he shall sleep. For now, he shall glide far away from this predestined tragedy of our accepted destiny.

Shapeless Fiction of Adolescent Addiction


See what this delusional angel just did! I had fallen for you even before sound of wings faded. Now I live on your love and he is about to come to his senses. That arrow is still pierced I’m injured of love as days pass it dense(s) and feeling intense(s). He will undo the wrong been done. It sounds so daft. Is it his bizarre guilty pleasure? Remember what this delusional angel just did? I bet he was having fun keeping intention well hid.

That night I dreamt of you and me in an American bar. My sleeves all folded showing a nasty scar. You were dancing with the crowd under the neon light looked irresistible with retro looking face. It was indie bar with pensive people needed no wild guess. I was just badass intruder drinking raw vodka sipped down my throat. It all shifted and instead I wished to be left with you leaning onto me saying ‘let it be’, breathing-in your hot breath mixed with lipstick scent, sweet fume of sweat conquering cheap perfume, felt breathless my lung an airless vacuum. I was intoxicated in faded vision. Woke up on my bed with your head lying on my chest, asked, was it just an aided mission? You said, remember what that delusional angel did? I bet he was having fun keeping intention well hid.

Other day, we were walking down French boulevard. Sunray reflected on blue bay, orange and wine, grapes from vine. Air filled with Mozart, papers with Salvador’s art I tried to be one of those men who prophesize with pen. Where love is a habit of romantic instinct you won me from goddess yet heaven felt closest. As the stars vanished, moon disappeared left an empty bottle of wine, and echo of love was all I heard while night stayed shushed just like the time before and time before that… you tanned under sun I drew a hat and said remember what that delusional angel did? I bet he was having fun keeping intention well hid.

Love, song, food… dance for good, it’s nothing but an adolescent addiction embedded in this shapeless fiction. The kinder we become the harsher we get you bet it’s our damn fate that we met before sunset. Deadliest turn to our small barn, they say ‘do you see you were never meant to be’. Destined to solitary confinement, failed voyage for love sends hardest resentment. If you seek the truth, it’s written on our trembling hearts and eager lips… the only lie: ‘We will never say goodbye’. Cause, remember what that delusional angel did? I bet he was having fun keeping intention well hid.

Too Good to be True

This story is about an enchanting buttercup girl of chubby cheeks who was wrecked inside, who is living in disbelief- too afraid to shout to the void believing that nothing good will ever come, who startles like a fawn and in that girl I see a caterpillar yet to evolve into a beautiful butterfly with the touch of love. As she’d say now, ‘You sound corny’. Yes love, I do.

She appeared like a dark silhouette on the landscape of blue; standing right on the line placed in between where sky meets ocean. All my attention invested in chasing after the trace of her emotion and pace of her feelings. There remained hopes, worries, dreams and dramas in the black space between us mingling and hanging in the air. For a moment I could see them, I could feel them and I could touch them as tangibles. Thoughts consumed my consciousness so I was unaware of wave crashing on coral bed or the captivating reflection of sky in the ocean. All I could see… was the promise we made to ride on waves, walk on sands and hike around the globe together with hands clasped tight till our spines bend, bones grow weak, hair turns grey to white and we return to dust of the ground; that promise levitated by the breath of the ocean glowed in the shape of the strongest hope. I knew right at that very moment that I was not a rider on vagabond wheels anymore rather a man of objectives.

I say your fear flows from the things you care for. For instance, I never consider anyone my best friends except for the members of my family. Let’s just say I call conventional best friends ‘better friends’. May be it’s the outcome of a realization or protective shield of expecting less. Anyway, so single off putting news about my family is destructive enough to turn my world upside down. I care for them. Fun fact, I fear spiders. That doesn’t mean I dearly care for them too! But she managed to climb a step above ‘better friend’. It was a sudden entrance and quick ascendance I had no control over. She was like a cute lost puppy with watery eyes and a naïve look; irresistible entity and my new source of fear. I felt it my responsibility to comfort her with my verses:

‘If sun can’t miss a morning kissing you,

if stars can’t twinkle without winking you,

who am I other than the king of my sandcastle

to ignore the grace of you?

You are all the layers of my cloud9,

Core in the heart of blissful shine and

I am that king of the sandcastle

still waiting for you to be mine’

And some meaningless poems such as this. But before reading it you need to know few things. She always complain that ants always find pleasure in biting her, we both use the word ‘enchanting’ so many times, she loves to travel the world as do i, most of the time when she’s unable to answer anything she sings ‘Aiii don’t know’ with different tunes as if it’s a song.  Now you are good to go and read this weird thing:

You are my sugar and I’m your ant

Let’s sing it out loud…sing it like a band

What if they hear…what if they do?

Only singing won’t do, let’s dance too

Your voice is amazing but my voice is a killer

Together we sing a weird Floorfiller

We look better than Ferdinand better than Isabella

Let’s watch Kung fu panda and share a Nutella

I crave for your love and my love’s not fickle

As your ‘tunes’ make me smile like a continuous tickle

So I sing-

“I’ll be flicking stones at your window I’ll be waiting outside ’til you’re ready to go Won’t you come down? Come away with me Just think of all the places we could be I’ll be waiting, waiting on a brand new day Waiting on a brand new day”

You are charming, appealing, dazzling, and ravishing

Looks like you are the one summing up ‘enchanting’

I’m wandererI’m drifter i’m a stone always rolling

Bewildering, why’d you love such vagabond being!

Don’t sing ‘Aiii don’t knooow’ cause it’s hauntingly beautiful

Making me prisoner of your love dungeon and

If I try to pick the lock I’m only a fool.

And she’d return the favor with impressive blows like sending goodnight audio notes with kisses, playing me her guitar or singing me my most favorite song Cannonball with her out of sync hauntingly beautiful voice. My ears craved for it so many times that her version outnumbered original Damien Rice’s in my most played list within days. Still I crave for more:

‘Still a little bit of your taste in my mouth

Still a little bit of you laced with my doubt

Still a little hard to say what’s going on

Still a little bit of your ghost, your witness

Still a little bit of your face I haven’t kissed

You step a little closer each day

That I can’t say what’s going on

Stones taught me to fly

Love ‒ it taught me to lie

Life ‒ it taught me to die

So it’s not hard to fall

When you float like a cannonball’

She is someone who can make time run faster than fastest. She is someone who can tame your crazy heart after a restless day. She is someone who intentionally fools herself to say those three magical words to you. She is someone for whom you won’t mind leaving your tongue tied over those three words forever. She is someone who can nurture your manhood by letting you help her out some insecure state that she herself able to get rid of. She is someone every man desires to have and every woman desires to be. Idle time without her feels like the ‘cruciatus curse’ from harry potter. If that flawed moon caused writers write thousand poems; I think even millions will fall short when I’m praising her.

But despite the strength of these words, despite the force with which she’s pulling me toward her; I hear the haunting whisper:                                                                                                                                          ‘Sugar sack on back, ocean at my feet… step? step Step!’                           And it might be as it is anticipated. This story was about an enchanting buttercup girl of chubby cheek.s.. I will ever want to remember.

The Other Side

I’ve always been a fearful brother to my siblings. It’s that I can’t remember the last time I replied to their questions without showing lines on my forehead and barking ‘come again?’ prior to that. I can easily get away with such attitude since I’m the eldest of three. They indulged me with their silent fright without an urge to complain. They obey me like a trooper does the man present at higher chain of command, they fear me like a prey does the huntsman but they love me for some reason I can’t think of. Given this condition; I thought I was most successful eldest brother. Though I cannot say that I felt satisfied; I never ransacked the possibilities lied on the other side… till now.

I think they ever wondered the existence of a ‘friend’ inside my tough shell. As they hiked closer to discover what they sought; they were pushed away by a sour holler from my side. Yes I know what you are thinking by now; ‘heartless’. I don’t blame you for that.

The youngest one; my brother developed an interest for art. I think he is pretty good at it; much better than many of his age. But I never praised him for that. Once he painted some of my portraits and wrote something sweet about me on top of that. He put those on my study table as surprise gift on my birthday. I scolded him hard for messing my table and made him throw those papers out from window. I think he was hurt because I didn’t see his face for next few days. And the younger one; my sister… she never gathered enough courage to submit the ‘poem’ she wrote about their loving brother after that.

There are many examples that match the above one. It won’t be wise to stimulate your hatred for me any further mentioning those.

Now a day I wonder about the possibilities. I think if they deserve a bit more from me. I think… and my ego stands as threshold against letting them in. Mom told me not to tighten the knot anymore; rope might tear but that’s not my concept of elder brother-ism. Anyways, I experienced something that day while loosened the knot a bit.

Mom took my sister to the tuition. It was my responsibility to look after my brother. He finished study and nagging to take him play but I got a new John Grisham novel and didn’t want to leave. He had no other way to entertain himself except for painting; sitting by my side on sofa. After a while I noticed he started painting on my hand. The context of his painting didn’t fit in the a4 size paper I guess. As I said earlier; they always try to discover the presence of affection inside me. That was a notion. Once I thought to produce a bark but I didn’t. I was exploring the other side and it felt heavenly that day. Soon after that I was his “Rock-paper-scissors-lizard-Spock” partner. Then he was rehearsing funny ‘Oggy and the Cockroaches’ hindi dubbing playing ‘jack’ and ‘cockroaches’ while I reluctantly played Oggy. As days passed, we did pile of painting together while my novel remained unfinished.

My sister noticed the wind of change and there she was with her diary of poetry and expectation of getting praised. And I couldn’t disappoint her. She deserved that.

Things have changed. Now I respond to their call with line not on my forehead but a curved one on my lips… that you call smile. I don’t bark anymore, no longer I am an agent of terror in their eye and now I have a reason to explain their love for me. That day I let that form of love to paint on my palms and now it has conquered my heart. Now I know; it was a heaven on the other side… the side I live in now.