21 to 28

fairy stitching garland 1.4.14


Oh yes there are fairies, who told you there is no such thing as fairies and elves? They ran away after studying the direction in which human civilization is going.

After all, who will love to be branded as a witch and grilled alive because of special powers?

Or end up in dissecting table so doctors could study how can she fly?

Or get scandalized everywhere because she is too beautiful and skilled?

So they ran as far away from human eyes and are living there.

I have heard quite happily.

Seven Sentence Story 3.4.14


“I will marry whoever is brave enough to take it from my hand and wear it.” The young fairy said proudly to the fairy youths standing in front of her.

She was the most powerful magician of their realm so the men only fidgeted even though her beauty was bewitching.

Suddenly someone pounced on her and snatched it away from her hands.

The fairy screamed and fainted.

The youth stared.

It was a huge monkey.

Seven Sentence Story 3.4.14


“There is a story hidden in that painting.” The old man said, looking keenly at the painting. “Darn! I have been trying for so many years to understand it.”

“It’s key to youth…” he cleared his throat. “I wish I will understand it before the reaper shows up.”

“All the best grandpa.”

“I can see you in my place a couple of decades later….” the old man snarled.

Seven Sentence Story 3.4.14


One by one she picks up the flowers. Sometimes she adds some pebbles, thorns too not willingly she is bound to stitch in the thing she picks up, and she is blind.

When the garland is ready she waits. Outside the window. The first cry of the newborn brings a sweet smile to her lips. She places that garland on the tiny head and returns to her seat. We call her luck.

Seven Sentence Story 3.4.14

8 T0 14

old building 1

Seven Sentence Story 3.4.14

Fantasy 8.8.14

This was once the house of dreams, Mr. Ghosh, sorry Raybahadur Debdulal Ghosh has built this house in Kolkata, a hundred or so kilometers away from his ancestral village home to bring up his kids in Kolkata.

Then came the independence war, the turmoil thereafter, naxalites and the new government. Lucky for Raybahadur he was long gone. His grandkids lived in USA, because they have learnt a harsh lesson that there was no place for merit test to get what you deserve in modern India, unless you can buy it by some devious means or are damn lucky. Being truly meritted and rich and upto a great limit dignified they decided they should relocate to a place where talent and merit is enough.

When they were handed over the notice that their house has been taken over by the government to give homeless a home they did not bothered to file a case against it, even though their neighbours told them that it was infact taken over by the local MLA for personal use.

Later when the house was handed over to the local MLA and he sold it off to property dealers at a huge bargain then too they did not bothered to show up… what was the use?

Mystery 9.8.14

“What is that?” she asked her husband. They were sleeping side by side in the bed, it was their first night together in Kolkata, after the hectic month of marriage and all its celebrations.

She could hear it distinctly the thud of footsteps in the wooden verandah right outside.

“Nothing… ” her husband tried to brush the question away but she made him talk and regretted.

The actual owner of this building, an old man was forced to give up the house to a local promoter, who was pals with the local MLA.

He killed himself from that verandah on the night the case was lost…. he had a wooden leg.

reality 10.8.14

This photograph was taken from one of the windows of a fraudulent institute, I joined this institute, wasted 30,000 rupee and six months there and walked out empty handed.

Yeah, call me a fool, weakling if you want to I dont care, but being born and brought up in an environment where we are not taught to claw the eyes out of those who dare to steal our food, belongings I still cant act like a ferocious cat- the best way to behave in India.

If I could I would not have been sitting in a rented house.

The question that pops up in my mind again and again is how much commission do these institutes give the local police stations and other big bodies?

I will never believe that no one has complained against them in police. I have fantastic respect for Indian police department so I did not wasted my time, because if they were earning their bread I would not have been sitting in Kolkata, in place of that I would have been living in my own home. But not everyone is so experienced with nonchalance, corruption of police department I believe.

poem 11.8.14

his bricks can still see
the face of the blushing bride
as she stepped out of palanquin
she looked like the idol
gorgeous and glowing
that was placed in the altar
every year to be worshipped
he could still feel her soft touch
her sweet sigh
and tear drops
when she waited for her husband
to return home to her
and the laughter of the couple
when they were united again
the soft pitter patter
of baby feets
and the excited caution words
emitted from loving lips
now those babies are grown
the deserted nest waits
for their occasional visits
the old couple hobble around
sometimes caressing
his old body
with deepest love

1 to 7

death 2 19113

Seven Sentence Story 3.4.14


The curtain on the window blew in wind… no it was not wind …. the trees were standing still. Then she saw those talons that were pushing the heavy curtain away.

A freezing feeling started to rise from her toes toward her heart. She was losing all the sensation. The creature was inside, she could see its glowing eyes fixed on her.

It was time to go…. she closed her eyes, she did not wanted to see him strike.

She could feel its breath on her face, cold as ice.


No one can escape death… that is what everyone knows.

Well… not everyone but some people can.

Those who are afraid of death, do they know that there is a box in which you can capture the death angels? The problem is you can capture only hundred.

They break open when century is completed and when they all come out together they are really mean.

If you are ready to face that torture, then I have that box. But it will cost you money, a lot of money.


Death is a business.

It is bought and sold in different packages. Sometimes its wrapped in the packages of experimental medicine, sometimes arms dealer’s agreement, sometimes environment destroying giftwraps.

It is the most powerful ancient power that human beings have fed ardently, earlier it has to wait for natural calamities like epidemic, flood etc. These days it just does not waits, it is always in action.

By the time one source stops feeding it, the other one starts. It is really busy.


“I will go with you, just let me finish the story… please!” the old woman begged the angel of death, he agreed, feeling pity on the old woman and the little child.

Now that little child is thirty years old, the old woman is yet to finish her story.

By the time she reaches the middle she forgets where she was and restarts.

That poor old woman cant keep anything in her mind after fifteen minutes. Her brain gets formatted every fifteen minute.

The angel curses the moment he looked into those baby blue eyes.

JULY 2014

24 to 31

fairy imprisoned

poetry mdp

chains 4

some are visible
some are invisible
some are tied
some are picked up
and some are devious
they look not like chain
yet they tie down
not only the body
but heart, mind and soul.

chains 3
with smug little smile
on their arrogant lips
they invade your lives
building an invisible
watchtower around you
observing your every step
you give them that power
they show you air
and tell tall stories
of invisible foes
that hide behind that cloak
and you give them the power
also the fund
to build a prison around you
invade your every breath.

chains 2

chains that bind body
dont be afraid of them
with determintation
you can get rid of them
be scared of the chains
that bind you in stealth
using your own mind
they tie you down
you make yourself prisoner
while your tormentor
gladly walks away
knowing you will take care
of the prisoner
because you know every thing
the smallest details.

chains 1

love is the sweetest chain
that ties and not
it holds you to your loved one
not because that person
wont let you walk away
but because your heart
wants to stay

11 to 16

earthscape 3  5.9.12

poems LOGO

trees 4

It’s branches touched
my window bars
I could see squirrels
scurrying on them
so busy in gathering stuffs
sometimes they will sprawl
on the branches
soaking the sun
in summer flowers covered
followed by the fruits
in came the monkeys
with and without tails
their colonies squatted
eating a little
destroying lot more
it was a free telecast
of discovery channel
from my bedroom window.

tree 3

Had to change the uniform
sari was a bit troublesome
when you are climbing tree
within five minutes of return
the climbing expedition started
higher and higher we went
looking for ripe guavas
our greatest eyesores were
hordes of monkeys
the regular raiders
of the tree
parrots and squirrels were few
but monkeys were so many
a single raid meant
everything gone for a week

trees 2

have you ever felt the love
that you feel
coming from the tree
when you stand under him
his branches heavy with rain
softly scatter pearls
on your head
as if blessing you
when you stand under him
in the darkness
you could feel his breath
reaching out, touching you

trees 1

their leaves dance
creating their own music
soft and soothing
in tune with breeze
and when the storm strikes
it will seem
that they want to fly
so far away from earth
but their roots hold them back
to the place where they belong
the source of their survival
the freedom inside them
allows their branches to dance
without a single shackle.
3 to 10

backgrnd 4 B 10

poems LOGO

rain 4

curtain stirs in open window
wind whispers
“I am here…”
the lightning flashes smile
the thunder claps hands
down comes the rain fairy
spreading her wings
all across the land
sudden flashes of lightning
give a flashing glimpse
of her crystalline beauty
before darkness hides her
all I can hear
is her sweet whisper
as she dances
on ground, leaves and glass

rain 3

she walks
soft green grass
covers the clay path
to offer their tender touch
to her gentle steps
grass flowers rise their heads
in thousand colours they smile
when she kisses the buds
fireflies and crickets
her torchbearer and bard
follow her everywhere
spreading monsoon charm

rain 2

the cloud fairy
teased the sun
opened her hair
an ebony cascade
on his golden face
the earth looked up
rain drops came dancing
down to the ground
it was time to play
they played
with leaves and trees
with the river and ocean
the sun got impatient
and gently pushed away
the tresses of his beloved
and the rainbow crown
gently smiled in her hair

rain 1

sweet seranade
of falling rain
that special sound
so soft yet clear
soothes the mind
heart feels peace
and calm beyond words
as the drops of rain
gently step on ground
waking up life
calming the thirsty earth
spreading a sense of peacce
wherever it comes down

JUNE 2014

27 to 30
moonlight lady 71112

poems LOGO

moon 1

He has seen so many hearts
some lonely, some dreamer
basking in his silver rays
gentle rays that hides
those vulnerable hearts
from reality’s harshness
giving them the shadow
they so desperately seek.

He has given the shadow
of his sweet darkness
mingled with silver light
to the lovers
with hearts full of love
and eyes full of dreams
away from pestering world.

moon 2

under the moon
they run and hunt
their silky fur
rustled by the wind
they howl and hunt
till dawn
dont mess with them
they are the werewolves

moon 3

the silver disc
shines in the dark sky
waves reach out to touch
churning higher
wolves howl
trying to draw its eyes
down to earth below
night creatures trying
to woo the queen of night

moon 4

the spinner of magic
emperor of mystery realm
in the ocean of night
his ship sails
fairies row his ship
weaving magic net
to catch dreams
sweet and scary
and release them on earth
to be captured by sleep.

19 to 26

ocean under full  moon 8.11.12

poems LOGO

ocean 4

Ah the beauty of Poseidon,
lightning dances on waves
touching the sky
the dark masses roll
terrorizing the bravest souls
they rise and fall
splashing into churning white foam
freezing mightiest hearts.

ocean 3

Who said they dont exist
the fair mermaids
and nightingale sirens
with the encroachment of men
they have retreated
to mystery cove
dare not trespass there
for the Kracken stands on guard
on the door of that place
reserved for innocent souls.

ocean 2

When the tides are high
the waves reach out
and almost touch the garden
the green grass rolls down
to touch the sand
the borderline
the fragrance of rose, jasmine
mingle with salty ocean breeze
the full moon smiles
on white churning waves
and jasmine blooms
as they lie side by side.

ocean 1

deep down the watery depth
what lives?
one will wonder,
a good story to fantasize upon
when you are lying on deck
what lies under me?
what breathes in that mysterious deep?
hidden from prying eyes,
survives and thrives,
may be for million years or more?
ocean 4

12 to 19
woman beside lotus pond 28713

poems LOGO

beauty 4

When he smiles
his eyes sparkle
thousand stars fade
her world fills up
with their light
when he reaches out
his small chubby fingers
clutch her finger
she feels, as if God
reached out and touched her.

beauty 3

softly touch her wind,
her skin is softer than rose
dont steal her fragrance
for my soul dwells
in that fragrant realm
my world begins with her
and ends with her in it
tread softly my friend
i want to hear her breathing

beauty 2

what can be more beautiful
than that small smile
that hovers on her lip
whenever he crosses her mind
what can be more lovely
than those two unshed tears
that sparkle in her eyes
when he comes near

beauty 1

a face as beautiful as a rose
but without a soul
is like a paper rose
colourful, delightful
ideal for vase.
a face as simple as a wild flower
that blooms by the road
ignored, neglected
but full of life
is a decoration for soul.


7 TO 10

fairy stitching garland 1.4.14

poems LOGO

peace 4

Some seek money
spend their lives chasing it
some seek fame
try every way to get it
some seek content, some happiness
some are content with peace
but deep inside if one judges
one will see
every chase in life seeks peace
some look for it in wealth
some in limelight, some in love
but at the end it is the peace
peace of mind and soul
that human race seeks.

peace 3

The world is a turbulent ocean my friend
how can you seek everlasting peace
if you are alive, living a life
if you are a hermit, living far away
from other living beings
you may find the everlasting peace
if you can rise above the feelings
the sense of loving and attachment
and every other small thing
that makes you a human being
but will that peace make you happy?
a stone cold heart somehow is peaceful,
but is it a heart one aches to have?
a heart that loves, beats with life
will feel pain, turbulence
if not from one’s own suffering
then from the one it holds in love,
so there is no everlasting peace for living
let the small ripples hit you
just dont let them turn into a storm.

peace 2

Early in the dawn I opened my eyes
the eastern horizon was alight
I thought the sun was showing up
but I saw a being divine
a celestial maiden swinging from moon
stitching the morning stars in garland
for the radiant Apollo
to wear on his crown
I rubbed my eyes to confirm
but she was no longer there
when I saw sun after a while
I felt he was wearing that garland
in his golden crown

peace 1

The world is full of sad souls
some are only sad, looking for peace
others not so simple
they cant rise above their misery
and dont want anyone else to be
so when you are at peace
let it grow inside your heart
like a meadow of grass green
dotted with wild flowers
so that, when a stampede hits
a herd of anger, envy unleashed
let it trample your meadow
but only for awhile
in a day or two
the green grass will lift its head
like nothing ever happened.

1 TO 4

poetry  1.4.13 SB

poetry 4
I cant argue, fight debates
cats get my tongue
everytime I try to confront verbally
but when I pick up my pen
my thoughts become words
and my anger, hurt spills down
with the ink and quill
I am not the fighter in front line,
I guess I am just the motivator,
the wannabe inspiration
for bloodless inner wars.

poetry 3

I pour my heart out
share with you
my dreams of wild lands
where unicorns gallop
carrying fairies fair
where gallant knights
dont kill the dragons
but tame them with love
and ride on them
to lands of magic
to slay evil beings
that harm innocent souls.
do they touch your heart?
my dreams, my words?
and share my world with you?

poetry 2

the old notebook
still holds her life
hidden inside its pages
some pages are stained
with ink, or other stains
a rose or wildflower
sleeps somewhere within them
with them sleeps
the whole life of a woman
gone long away

poetry 1

My heart speaks
yours listens
not a single word is spoken
yet you feel what i feel
you can hear what i did not say
my words become the bridge
between you and me
my reader hundreds of miles away

MAY 2014

22 to 29

woods 9.5.14 2

Woods 4

The leaves rustle softly
a dove sings lullaby
blue sky peeps
from behind the canopy
of green leaves
a squirrel runs across
the zigzagged branches
a sense of perfect peace
makes home under the trees.

woods 3

I met him somewhere
deeper in woods
i was lost
in the maze of trees
his flute found me
its music carried me
to him
he was sitting alone
under an old oak tree
playing to the wood fairies
they played around him
dancing and laughing
the wood was his home
and it became mine.

woods 2

A road covered with fallen leaves
half hidden by grass
tries to find its way
in the woods in autumn evening
the shadows are gathering fast
a thin veil of fog
is slowly forming in air
soon it will become a wall
the damp leaves make strange sound
the birds are chirping noisily
its time to finish up the chores
before they fall asleep
what if I get lost in woods
will I be found?
by whom?
men are fairies?

Woods 1

They cover the earth
the silent saints
the givers of life
and life breath
if you play with them
they wont protest
they will silently go
without a single fuss
but, they will pave path
for you to follow

15 to 22

death 2 19113

death 4

A calm hand gently placed
on a tired forehead
so tired with battling
night and day
too many foes
how many can one name
its been too many days
since his breath first touched
since his shadow first appeared
in distance ever decreasing
day by day
now is the time
for final rest.

death 3

the wound it leaves behind
are sometimes healed
very quickly or with time
but some wounds stay
never leave the heart
of the ones who stayed behind
while one followed
his footsteps to the land
from which no one returns.

death 2

Is he really grim
someone truly scary
so scary that people go numb
whenever his presence is felt
or he is just the final breath
after which there is no sense
no remorse, no regret
no joy, no laughter
just absolute silence
only pure peace.

death 1

One can hear his footstep
loud and clear
in turbulent lands
shattered by gunshots
one can feel his breath
inhale his body odour
in the pungent smell
of gunpowder and blood
one can hear his voice
in screams of agony and pain
loud and clear.

8 to 15

black mist

darkness 4

so many shades
churn inside
the dark abyss
the colour of ignorance
hatred and malice
too deep fury
are its different shades

darkness 3

by so many reasons
they refuse to see light
or just cant see
turning their face away
from the light
they follow night
and hate everyone
who says they are wrong

darkness 2

is just darkness
it is not evil
just absence of light
sometimes it hides evil
and sometimes
good stays hidden too
inside its dark veil.

darkness 1

come to my arms
a sweet voice promises
close your eyes
and I will erase
every scratch
that has been made
on your body, soul
dont be afraid
of the darkness
it is but
a turn of light.

1 to 8


Ocean of time
Has risen and fallen
Her slim body firmly held
In capable hands have danced
On white dancefloor
Telling stories, fables and history.
To be retold
Again and again by generations to come.

That song
Which hums inside your heart
Imploring you to capture it in words
Like an ever elusive mirage
It dances right at the horizon
Blinding your vision
Forcing you to follow its tune
Forever and ever

They can touch your heart
With love
And transform your world
They can wound your heart
With bitterness
Or hatred
Handle them with care
If they are yours
Share them wisely
If they are others
Embrace them with caution

They left their words for us
Hundreds, may be thousands years ago
But they bear fruits of wisdom or joy
And taste like they are just told
Your heart fills up with wonder
And a little desire
To bless your pen with that same power
To make your stories immortal
To be told again and again
When you are no longer there

Ah the blessed bloom
That touched a poet’s heart
And a poem took form
To be read again and again
So many flowers bloom
So much prettier than her
Just the look of a special eye
Made her immortal

APRIL 2014

In the light, light of day
he is the saint, messiah
his very being spills
with love and piousness
in the night, darkness
he becomes a monster
devouring every drop
of purity and love
in the endless pit
of only evil darkness
inside his soul.


When it comes to her ambition
or her desires
she is as vicious as a cat
digging her claws deep inside.
When she is out
in front of a camera
all she speaks of sacrifice
love, mercy and kindness
with such earnesty and depth
she may make angels blush
make them feel selfish and wicked
if they fail to see her heart.


“Oh how could I forget!”
He said with full earnesty
“You are my world darling.”
“How could you even think?”
she hugged him tightly
forgetting all the sadness
the anger when she thought
he has absolutely forgotten
today was the day
when their worlds came together
he coaxed her to the toilet
for a long luxurious bath
before sneaking out to the terrace
to order a bouquet of red roses.


What have you been upto?
she asked when she saw him
tiptoeing out of the kitchen
when rest of the home slept
“Nothing mommy…”
He protested a bit too loud
crumbs of the sweet
on his tiny lips
ripped away the mask of innocence.


she concealed her tears
smiled for the world
knowing in her heart
there was no use
in causing others pain
by sharing her woes
after all, it was her burden
and she knew she can bear it
so, she donned the mask

could not let go 22.4.14

He could not let go
that one gentle friend
who stayed
when world went wrong
gentle indeed and weak
he became the rock
that sucked him down
to deepest abyss

One respite 19.4.14

Surrounded by enemies
bitter and conniving
he seeked respite
she came along
innocent, pure she seemed
in reality
she was Delila
Samson’s weakness.


Summer wind

boats 16.3.14 9

Summer wind
picking up dry leaves
from the grass
they dance along the road
the river holds the reflection
of sailing boats
they softly rise and fall
waiting for the call


so close

lakeside boat E1

picking up the oars
water ripples
creating waves it dances away
summer sun smiles above
breeze gently blows the clothes
so close to heaven


shadows of heart

men 5.2.14

dark hearts
spread their shadow
of lies and deception
they seem so harmless
sometimes they blind eyes
and get confused as light


spreading peace

moon 14.2.14

in the darkness of night
under his silver light
pain falls asleep
misery melts away
hearts know that they can be
whoever they are



  1. I really enjoyed reading your short stories especially ‘Fantasy’ about Luck and Death in various categories! Keep them coming! 🙂

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