Random Dream Storylines

So you lost the trust
And the number's game
Is a funny way to tell your story
Turning that back
It's all a joke, ain't it so?
But never answer back
In that bullet-proof vest
And when They came for you
All that you were dressed
Was in your best.
Don't you worry
With my telescope lens
I'll see you soon
And when all you want is a friend
I'll be there as as much as the TV cartoon.

Err, return to my "experimental" style. Don't expect too much.

She was 17

He woke up. The train had come to a stop. He could hear the engine pant.

"Baba? The train, it stopped."She didn't ask.
"Yes."
"Where is it? Station?"
  He tried to look outside. Fog. Mist. And the clouds. Made it tough to understand what part of the day they were exactly in.
"Bujhte parchhi na re. Can't see anything outside."
"Oh."
  Quiet again. Now he could only hear the engine outside. And the rain.
He turned around to look at her. Seventeen. Not exactly the best age to leave your parents, your siblings, and go away into a far off land. He'd always been rather protective about her. Youngest of the lot after all. He looked away.
"Wanna have some water?"
"No. Beshi khele toilet pabe, tahole beshi norachora korte hobe"
"Lazy Bum, you!" He said. She grinned stupidly.
  Was she trying to act tough? Maybe keep a straight face? Kids these days, they do grow up fast.
He looked at her again. She'd got thin. The paleness added a sweet timidness to her. And that pink hoody. She was still a kid. A kid who needed her family.
"Whatcha looking at?"
"You've grown up a lot, you realise that?"
"Isn't that natural, baba? I mean, kids grow up, they have to leave. It's all a very natural process"
  But did it need to be this way, he thought.
"Yes. Right you are. Now eat this."
"Noooo!" Okay, she still was a kid. He'd got sure with that tone of her. He tried to smile inside, didn't really happen though.
"Come on, you need to eat. Then you'll have to take your medicines."
  She was sick. And he was taking her to a hill station, to his aunt's home. The doctors had advised a vacation for her.
"Uff baba! Do you really think these tablets will let me live a few days longer? Will stop me from dying? Do you seriously believe so? Tumio na, shotti!"
  She was talking with a mock seriousness. He knew, she was fighting. Yeah, she'd grown up.
"Don't talk rubbish. Ke shekhalo eshob tomay? Beshi peke gechho?" He tried to imitate her tone. Sounded so false.
"Uff, jaliyo na to!" She maintained that tone. But he couldn't speak.
  Quiet again. Why wasn't the train moving yet? The animalistic pant of the engine was getting on his nerve now. He tried to look outside. Tall trees. Very tall. But there wasn't any shadow. All of them seemed to be godlike, without a shadow.
"Dukhho pele?" She asked.
  He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. That kid, that kid who used to grab his hand tightly while crossing the road, even a few years ago. That kid, who used to run up to the terrace, dragging him behind, to dance in the rain. That kid, his daughter, was asking whether he was sad.
"Duur pagli. Oto moja korchhilam. But seriously, ebar oshudh ta kheye nao."
"You old people na. Give me."
  He handed over the medicines. She would take them by herself, as long as she could. The hoody slipped over from over head. He looked away. He couldn't look at her. So ugly, so hairless. He knew he had to be strong, he was the father. And it was his duty to protect his family. But he couldn't. This one, the littlest of the lot, was leaving him. It's almost like he's running behind a train, trying to catch it, trying to just get in the last compartment somehow. He knows, he won't be able to catch it. He still keeps running, till maybe the day the platform will get over. And then he won't be left anymore ground to run on. And the train will have left.
She arranged the hoody back, and looked up to him. She held his hand.
"Ki hoyechhe? Thik achho?" He had to be strong. He just couldn't cry yet. Not yet.
"Yeah. Thik-i toh... thik-i toh a-ach-chhi" He couldn't take it anymore.
 
  He sat on the dirty, unwashed, floor of the Indian Railways Train, and wept. He cried on. What he didn't observe was, she slowly stood up, wobbly, like a toddler. And she held his head to her stomach, and caressed his hair, and made sounds which resembled a lullaby. She was trying to calm him down.
"Kandchho keno boka'r moton? Why the hell are you crying baba? Everything's gonna be fine. It's just a matter of few days, na. Thik hoye gelei to I'm coming back to you. And once I'm alright, we can start our joint study of music. And tumi amay abar purono Kolkata ghorabe. Remember College Street baba? And amra abar shobai mile chhuti'r shomoy berate jabo, pahare, shomudre. Shobshomoy maa ar amrai to thik kori kothay jabo, this time, it'll be your decision. Just think baba, a matter of few days only!"
  He could hint the glimmer of hope in her voice for just a fraction of a second maybe. She believed. He needed her to cry now. He needed her to break down. Only by crying could she save him, could make him the father again, and not the child anymore. But she didn't cry, and that moment passed. He understood. And he surrendered to her wholly this time. No more chances left for him. She held his head in her arms, and caressed like a mother soothing her child to sleep.

  She was seventeen, and she wasn't going to be eighteen, yet it was he who needed her. She'd outgrown him a long time back. He just never comprehended it clearly, till now.

The train started moving.

Pocektsized happiness.

The rising sun shall set one day too. Very true. Point is, how? Like a good, obedient, defeated man, accepting death since there's no other option left, or screaming, shouting, like a caged animal trying to break out, or maybe just smiling, contempt with whatever life he has lived? I don't know which one he'll choose. But he should be happy, he gave me what I needed. A life. And made me happy.

Outside the Inside

Walking through the grass bare feet, laughing
She never counted my blessings
And chose instead to dwell on my disasters.
We walked down the hill through grass grown tall
Yet I never could let go of the pains
Like the rusted old cadillac
collecting rains for the birds.

Was it always empty, down here in me?

Of these sunsets, sweet and golden
And white damp mornings have I grown weary
I spoke out loud through my chapped and faded lips
Yet no one heard me
Outside the rain tapped on the window pane
As we made our quiet love
And the fires danced around our wishful eyes.

Was it always so empty, down here in me?

Yes, I looked my demons in the eye
And said do your necessary best
Kill me
There's a lot of things that can kill a man
A lot of ways to die, yet some already dead walk beside me
I don't understand a lot of things,
why so many people lie, it's this hurt that fuels the fire inside me

Will it always be so empty, down here in me?

Poetry is not for me, I know.

Breaking Up, and the Aftermaths.

You know, there are mornings when you wake up, like today, and you understand how much, to what extent you are fucked up, and what may be the reason behind all this fuckedness, or fuckityness, as one of my friends loves to say. Now, you may very well ask, what maybe the problem in the life of an average teenager? I can't claim it to be some extraordinary problem, but yeah, I myself find it to be like a disease. I'm sick, and I don't know what medications to follow. So for me, its serious shit, and at present I'm pretty scared. I don't exactly know what to do, or what to say, or what to feel and not feel. I'm very scared to do all of those above mentioned things, thinking I might be misjudged again.
   Today's 6.6.2010, and just two days later, it'll be seven months of my breakup. Yes, please bear with me here, while I just touch back on some already well known facts. I broke up with my girlfriend of 2 years. Fucking long time. We had some major misunderstandings, and took some major wrong decisions, before, and after the breakup. I know she wont forgive me, and neither will I, for some of those acts. But the point is, even through all the shits of the last 6 months of my relationship, and before that to ofcourse, I was a happy ma.. err.. boy.
  Jaihok, as I was saying, the breakup caused a whole lot of heartaches, but somewhere, I was relieved. Maybe I expected it. I knew it was coming. And its like this pimple, breaking it was painful, the aftereffects even more painful, but no matter what, it was awaited eagerly. All good till now? Like a happy, mature individual, I moved on.
  And in the following months, I fell in love over and over again. Since its you who is reading the piece, I won't go into much of the gory details. But lets just say, in a desperate search of love, I lost two of the dearest friends I'd made (both female ofcourse), and today, I feel sad for what happened, though no regrets lie there. Meanwhile, while I reached "stability" outside, my brain started malfuntioning. I started having weird dreams, dreams where I would frequently be run over by trains, and at other points, just running around, scared. I also had visions of my ex, those dreams mostly ended in bittersweet notes. I had to rethink, was I still in love with her? Was it all a wrong decision? Should I turn back, even though all the gates have been closed down? I was confused. But somehow, the view, that I was not in love with her, I loved someone else, won in the general elections inside my state of mind.
  Meanwhile, my parents left the city, which meant I had their bedroom all to me. That meant late night television surfing, maybe, if lucky, I'd find some softporn movies on air, but she gurre bali, or sand in that jaggery sweet dream of mine. Anyway, the only thing which happened was, I lied there, holding my pillows, fighting the heat, and those demons who were waiting outside the window, and inside my head. Then, today, I saw dreams, quite a number of them. I remember only the last one, it was revisited by my ex-girlfriend. She'd come over to actually ask forgiveness from my parents, though she still attacked me on my disloyalty, and childish immaturity, but finally it had a good turn of events, and we patched up, and I pursued to restart things between us, leaving her present boyfriend, but before I got to know her decisions, the alarm clock woke me up. The dream was gone, and I lied there in a foetal like position (remember Requiem?), all quiet. Bangal bhashae zaare bole, hubba'r moton suup koira thaklam. I had some thinking to do, some old questions arised, and the whole jigshaw puzzle finally matched themselves to form the complete picture.
  No, if you think I still love her, no I don't, not in the way I used to. I love, and miss the friend that was in her, if I loved her the way I did in the old days, I'd never pursue her, not even in my dreams, that Im sure of. But what the breakup, and its follow up showed was, I missed a lover. Someone who'd love me the way I would, and hence my desperate, and infidel behaviour over the months.
  I was insecure, am still, I'm scared to face this world alone, I need someone to keep my back, and just be there. I'm sick. This is a disease, I don't really find any possible way out of this mess as of now. By diagnosing the illness, maybe I just let one of those demons let loose. But I'm finally happy, and hope you read this whole. Maybe, I'll never be rid of this disease. But then again, who knows, maybe I will.

Sorry for the odd behaviours over the past months.