My Shades My City

It is a city which is different..


A City which first broke its barriers..

When I hold father's hand n got the first view of the Victoria Memorial..

It is a city which saw my shades of adoloscence..my obsessions..my submissions..

It is a city which silently made me adult..and taught the bitter lies and ..the pure truth..

It adored me with a different fragrance of her beauty..

Sometime..in the early mornings..

Sometime..in the cozy afternoon..

Sometime in the bride kiss light of twilight..

Sometime in an open spirit of a windy evening..

Sometime..in silence of the moonlit night..

It is a city which also gave me the first glimpse of death..

I lost my father..

And then again..

The very city broke my shades..

I became more adult..

Simple faces became masked ones..

Unknown faces..became known..

And then..at one gorgeous afternoon..

I saw trembling of eyelids..

Movement of rosy lips..

I saw her..

I found..I knew..I became the King..

As the city gave me my love..



....It is a city also where I found myself..

Lost myself..

Again found myself..

Like the wings of Phoenix..



And gradually one day I found the youth within me..

Has slowly turned in the whiskers of the city into a man..



And a game of hate and love still continues..

As each day..each moment..

I miss the city..

Where I laughed..

Where I smiled..

Where I cried..

Where I kissed..

Where I danced..

And where I wrote..



And found words..

In all moments of existence..struggles and despair and ecstacy..

Thus I often see now quite far away..

Images of the city and myself..

Running within the rain..

Standing beneath a moonlit sky..

The whistle of a nightbird..

My silent whispers with my creation..

Often alone in a bustop..

The last Rickshaw on the shadowed road..

The first bell of a morning Tram..

The football playing boys in mud..

The first Norwester..

The 25th Day of Baisakh..

The trip to Jorasanko..



And the days of inner struggles..

And those days..









When I feel those daily afternoons when I in a joy filled heart returned everyday from Sunilda's house..

With a feeling which I only can feel and yet can never be described..



I saw all..

I faced all..



And yet I miss that city..

The very special city..



A city of Rabindranath..

A city of Satyajit Ray..

A city of Bibhutibhusan..

A city of Nillohit..



And my city..

Named Kolkata..



which I really miss

But still each moment feels..



As the city turned myself into what I am..

And gave me..

My love..

My words

And my different shades!

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