I

Brown eyes, black hair, introversion in my DNA.
When I walk in the multitude of
human, open field, cloud and sky,
Why am I ‘I’ but nothing else?

A strange and obscure moment was seeded in a womb;
I grew for seven months in eternal darkness,
among incoherent melody of my mother,
and one night, a loud cry made my mom anxious.
It was XY, not XX. 50% was my probability and
random base pairs defined my essence.
A God was installed before morning touched me.
and a family, a society, a culture, a perception;
and a sun, a moon, million stars; all just in one sky;
and desire, lust, love;
memory of escaping to the ethereal joy!
and political systems, corruption, national pride and war;
delusion, unanswered questions, self-doubt;
fragile humanity, prejudices, changing frames of life.
If I am just a dream of my eternal sleep;
If I have an interchangeable soul,
Question remains:
Why am I ‘I’ but nothing else?
Am I just my name? homo sapiens.
What’s in a name?

Birth of A genius

Words are silent today
at the catharsis of hope.
Days of sweet pain seem to escape
making me lonely; I long for trusted friend, pain!
Thoughts walk hardly on agile feet.
Joy and optimism butchered the genius.
Self doubt, a driving force is eclipsed.
Wonder, scare, scream, delusions; omnipresent.

Try not much,
Peeping through obsolete hole of hope,
Someone threatens the creator.
He dares not to tread.
Will is a slave of instincts nurtured on history of memory.
Pedagogue is experience, but, not enough
to explore an eternal journey.

The gracious He must shower pain
to stimulate the will.
A harsh reality countered by phlegm of austerity.
I choose not the path!
I think not the thought!

Road to ignorance is easier and easier, learning.
Darkness of knowledge engulfs.
The more I know the bewildering becomes journey.

So, I pained the dearest one.
I was right, the play is at work
epitomizing sadomasochism.
Ah! This is what I asked for,
piercing arrows to bleed me.

Obscure, eerie and tunnel of darkness
ripe a situation to bring back hopelessness.
Celebrate one and all
A genius is almost born!

To Her

It is early winter morning on earth.
She is sleeping in a comfortable hearth.
Dark but rich water is holding her life.
It is a love nest, far from regular strife.
She perhaps chases murmur of honey bees.
And smells freshly bloomed flowers.
She perhaps dreams of doves on the clouds.
And smiles at the sound of a million kiss.
Sleep, sleep deep and dream wonderful.
Roll and roll in joy of melody.
Roll and roll in beats of glory. 

Love Letter

Emilka, my sweetest heart,
Which one is your glittering brand new car?
I remember your favorite sports car: Nissan 370z!
Do you still desire for a sky blue sailboat?
Ah, sail away from the sea in Chicago into the dawn,
dissolve into crystal ice!

Have you painted your condominium yet?
What is the color? You told me you liked green,
Crimson of the rising sky and westward bird’s bosom,
you remember?
We planned interplay of hues on our skin,
but, your condo?

Have you been promoted in your job with a raise?
Now, you can buy some drizzling happiness; dazzling?
and our weekend duets were long but thrilling.
We listened to the insane horses running through dark.
How much is the raise?
50%?

Emilka, my sweetest heart,
If you know the price of our love;
It can’t be priceless,
It must be your brand new car
or, condominium or, 50% raise?
Which one or just a combination?

Yours forever and a day,
Mausam

Goodbye Sweetheart

Don’t bring back those Winters
No more cold sun and misty wild flowers,
Let the memory fade and time fly.
Let me melt away and music almost noise.
Fire and reflections of hearts; lull in snow,
Goodbye tender walks.

Don’t bring back those Springs
when the green grass kisses the blue at the horizon,
Let the blues become baloney.
Your smile and breathes on me, seldom.
Let the soft touch be stony.
Goodbye sublime euphoria.

Don’t bring back those Summers
Sweat and skin, vitality in our embrace,
Let the sweat be dross and vapor,
and sudden shower wash away odor.
Goodbye our vigor by the summer lake
Let evening crimson be chaos, heartache!

Don’t bring back those Falls.
Let the hues be lackluster,
No more mountains and trail to divinity.
Crystals of rain, then intervene our ardor pretty.
Goodbye your mellowed self into me infinite.
Let twilight shadows march fast into oblivion.

Don’t bring yourself and recollections
Let us heal from momentary passions
and transient aura of vivid oneness.
Don’t bring the sigh in smile, dripping hemlock.
Vague portrait of us hanging between
your whim and burden of joy.
Goodbye dream in the twilight; freedom waits.

God Doesn't Care

God is one of the most controversial figures in the history of mankind. Religions thrive on interpretations of God(s). However, these interpretations are contradictory, primitive (for example role of women), manipulative of human psyche (read brain wash) and revengeful. More people have been killed in the name of God than all other reasons combined. I am convinced that morality does not spring from God; morality is ingrained in human being, probably, for the need of self-preservation. I also do not need fear of any "higher authority" for me to be civil, to be empathetic towards fellow human being. Keep a keen eye on those who breath too much God; you will definitely observe some evil in them!

What is God’s identity?
Are His eyes black, brown, green or blue?
Is He Muslim, Christian, Hindu; a capitalist or a communist?
Is He omnipresent, omniscient or just struggle to survive?

If He is Allah,
Does He still supply seventy two virgin to the jihadists?
Does He still want blood of Christians, Jews and Hindus?
Did He dance fanatically at the stoning of Soraya?
Did He laugh at the death of thousands in 9/11?

If He is God,
Does He still procreate His son in a virgin's womb?
Does He still want His monolithic kingdom?
Did He weep for those children abused in church?
Did He take side when Muslims were violated in Srebrenica?

If He is Bhagwaan,
Does He belong to the higher caste or lower caste?
Does He still punish us with cycle of reincarnations?
Did He applause when Babri mosque was demolished?
Did He care when Sikhs were burnt alive in 1984?

If He is capitalist,
Is His wealth swollen by the cry of destitute?
If He is communist,
He seems to love to control everything, even, freedom.

If He is eternal, if He is the only One,
Why is the eternal One limited to
three dimensional song of opposites?
and, why is God a He, but, not a She?

Peace of Midnight

I am a child of Assam revolution started in 1979 under leadership of All Assam Student Union (AASU) aiming at the economic development, cultural preservation against illegal immigration from southern border of Bangladesh and above all, to evolve as an important part of India. My grandfather and his sons including my dad were actively involved in this peaceful revolt though there were instances of physical and mental harassment of police. In 1985, Assam accord was signed between AASU and Indian central government promising a new era of hope and optimism. This, soon, proved to be a delusion when state government failed to fulfill its promises. Hence, there was a shift in people's support to armed struggle by extreme reactionaries of AASU forming United Liberation Front of Axom (ULFA). Enthusiastic support of Assam's delusional public for ULFA started to wane by middle of the 1990s. My only memory of the revolution in 80's was that of my grandmother holding me tight  (probably I was 2 years old) when one night, cops came to arrest my uncle. He was long gone after dinner and they took my dad instead.

I wrote this poem when I was twenty four but the message is still relevant not only in my homeland but in multiple pockets around the globe where basic human rights and values are violated by the armed "indigenous" organizations.

I

I was fourteen then.
I remember my parents' conversation-
Government oppression,
imperialistic hegemony,
self-rule.
Words, too obscure to me.

One night,
I was dreaming evening-glory of our paddy fields,
I was awoke by a knock on the door.
My dream was broken.
I saw two veiled men
and they asked my parents for shelter.
I thought my parents were
proud of helping them.

Hush of night surrounded us and
we were trying to sleep.
Suddenly, there was another knock.
No! that was a violent sound.
Some men in uniform came inside,
and there were sounds of bullets.
I was scared to death.
Our guests were lying in a stream of blood.
My parents were taken away somewhere.
Yes, they returned;
Next morning!
But, they were mute forever!
Old people were saying
“they fought for our freedom.”
Words, too obscure to me.

II

I am twenty four now.
Crumbling roads of human sweat and blood
drag me to the shadows of past.
I feel betrayed
by a philosophy melted on those roads-
blood, sweat and cries of agony.
Past haunts my new world.

My parents, nurtured their freedom
are laid in the darkness of oblivion.
Hollow become promises!
Only remnants of treachery remain.

Day by day,
Moment by moment,
their philosophy is asphyxiated
by sighs of human anguish.
Lets adieu to the songs of melancholy.

III

We are challenged again and again
by thoughts of washing away the past.

Backyard of our home,
a summit of survival,
became a graveyard
where optimism was buried long ago.

The crops of hope in fecund land
will bring back the precious smiles.

We need courage to flow
and energy to follow
the spirits of liberty
to build a place under the sun
Competing with the beautiful land.

Dreams will get animated
being chased by our wills.
Strings of life create orchestra
listening to which, is believing in dreams,
broken by two sounds on our door,
when it was still peace of midnight.

Prelude-Tale of a Beauty

Moments were restive but hopes were alive
in the midst of fugitive psyche,
She walked, a calm ocean before storm!
Air of enigma and beauty charms
my pitiful presence.
O precious prize!

Light hair and green eyed yonder
drawn at her sublime voluptuousness and
over and over again, she cried her dreams.
and who can forget her becoming a bird?
O sleep, let her fly in oblivious yore,
and when she shared every bit of her soul,
lucky one is only one…………I.
O treasure of exotic land!

Darkness fell on layers……….over layers.
She talked low and attracted my core.
She changed ……..sometimes, too often……
I pretended, at times, to leave that sweet addiction.
Hard, still harder when walked away.
O my dreamful reality!

Days of pain and joy mixes a dose of happiness,
Sleepless nights mingle with starved distance
and love, love……..we shouted together,
in exuberance of unknown possession.
tempestuous breeze……..an ironical pleasure,
insanity personified!
O my loveliest damsel!

Hills and valley, we crossed together……..
promises of eternity followed,
rebellious souls unified under isabela rose,
cruel hands of destiny cease to exist
in gentle amour.
O my poem of ornate love!