A few sit in their drawing rooms
Sweetly ensconced with their loved ones
A rug casually thrown at their feet
Creating a perfect storm in a tea cup

While the imperfect storm rages outside
Uprooting trees, mangling stray dogs, cats
Along with many hapless humans
The not so sheltered, the not so blessed

The internet is down, the TV silent
Causing some minor irritation
A kind of ‘why did it have to happen’
Of all days today, of all times now

The other humans, the ones not so fortunate
Sit huddled in small groups
Beneath a ledge or in a government shelter
Waiting, praying, waiting again

Thinking with their minds blank
Where the next meal will come from
Where to find the money, materials
To rebuild their hovel, the place they once called home

Meanwhile, the storm continues unabated
Over that warm cuppa
About music, about films, about fashion
About heroes, heroines, villains

While the other half try to lean on strands of hope
For that is all that they have got
And an invisible god somewhere up there
Who may just condescend to answer their prayers

Subir Chakraborty
20th May 2020

The deluge of emotions weighing heavy
Sow seeds of doubt in my mind
Do I consider you a friend, a villain
A lover, an ex-lover, anything at all?

The frieze of feelings
Entrapped within the two cornices of my mind
Create a strange medley
Of forward and retreating steps

Something tells me to give it a try
Once more
Just to see, whether it can work out
Perhaps for the last time

Something also tells me
That this will not be the last time
I shall be at your doorstep
With the same dilemma drowning my chest

So I keep on at it in my mind
Forward, backward, this way, that way
Maybe some other way
Perhaps some other day

Subir Chakraborty / 7th Oct 2018

Do you really fall in love with a person
Or with the script that you write about him
Hidden from public view
Stored securely on a whim

Unknown to him
He is weighed, measured, timed
Examined against your template
Playing the narrative in your mind

And when he goes astray
You may forgive him for minor errors
Or in case of a serious anti-narrative
Crucify him forever

Is this really love the way it is supposed to be
Or is it the devil of your narcissistic syndrome
Force fitting a rounded individual
Into a delusional square hole

Subir Chakraborty / 15th June 2018

How was I, you asked
What should I reply
How am I, thought I
The bare truth or the lie

The tears
That are bursting my chest
Turn into streams of laughter
At your behest

I am good, I say
Moving on, on a high
Enjoying my loneliness
And a blissful life

And the truth
I am too scared to say
For I am still trying to make my way
From the ashes lying in disarray

Subir Chakraborty / 10th April 2018

The art of the possible and the impossible
Lie intertwined in my mind
Each nudging the other
Each competing with its adversary
To gain ascendance, victory

Like the double helical structure of the DNA
Each strand engaging, disengaging
Causing confusion and clarity in alternate cycles
The dilemma playing out eternally
To be or not to be, perpetually

When I am riding the wave of my ambitions
A tiny voice creeps in my mind
Casting doubts, causing apprehensions
Did I strive too tall
Did I stake my all

And when I shy away from a challenge
A different voice is audible
Informing me of my lack of courage
Egging me on to take charge of the process
And show the world my raw prowess

The more I choose one
The more the other becomes faint
The more I reject the other
The more I create a bit of self
Perhaps unknown, even to myself

Till what remains behind
Is the clear distillate
The very essence of my identity
For the world to see progressively
And for the self to realize eventually

Subir Chakraborty / 3rd March 2019

The conversation that I start with myself
With ecstasy and distress as players
Translates to a poem at times
Interwoven with emotional layers

When the dialogue carries the fragrance
Of roses, jasmine or frankincense
The words weave magical moments
Of love in its sublime sense

Sometimes the dialogue takes a queer turn
Making it grotesque and ugly
Dragging the words up an incline
Agonising through the sonnet painfully

And then there are occasions
When nature tiptoes silently
Nudging the words one at a time
To garnish the stanzas artistically

And so it goes on and on
My poems continuing to create
A very special world for me
In which I love to meditate

Subir Chakraborty / 26th May 2018

 

 

Life goes along at its own pace
Eventful, uneventful, boring, exciting
Pulling me along at times
Pushing me ruthlessly quite often

There are times when I try to give life a shove
Coaxing it to bend its ways
Giving it a silent nudge
To take me beyond the pale blue horizon

Life is not used to this supervision
Yet it adjusts quietly to the new supervisor
Allowing me to guide it gently
To my desired destination

Only one thing it does not promise
Only one thing it does not assure
Whether the object of desire on attainment
Shall continue to remain as desirable

Peeled of layers of mystery
The destination may lose its glamour
Devoid of layers of imagination
The rainbow may get recast in reality

Or it may not
And the horizon may drop down to my feet
Revealing a world of magic
That may entirely be mine to behold

To take the risk or avoid for fear
The choice is finally only mine
To be a master of my own destiny
Or be a meek follower for life

Subir Chakraborty / 10th May 2019

How does history
Repeat itself by the clock
How is the present
A chip off the old block

Nearly seventy millennia back
The Sapiens migrated from Africa
Hunting and foraging for food
Amidst the Savannah of Eurasia

And wherever they went
They laid to total waste
The flora and the fauna
In their greed to make haste

Today the same DNA
Motivates us to migrate
To faraway lands and places
Offering opportunities on a plate

Leading to an exploding population
Trying to make a beginning afresh
Mindlessly desecrating the environment
And extracting its pound of flesh

Have we really moved on
And become more civilised
Or are we playing the same record
With the needle stuck beside

How do we change our DNA
Of extortion and exploitation
Seemingly taking us forward
While driving us to oblivion

How do we alter the music
Emanating from the gramaphone
How do we change our fate
Apparently cast on stone

Subir Chakraborty / 23rd Nov 2018

Life often beckons me to reach out
In so many subtle ways
To go beyond the mundane, ordinary
To embrace the unknown

I falter, stutter, in life’s greying autumn
For years of routine drudgery
Has gnawed me out hollow
Leaving only a bare skeleton

Can I again become what I once was
Rising like the Phoenix
From my own grave of routineness
To brave the headwinds of uncertainty

Driven to the impregnable wall
I can perhaps reignite the lost spirit
Which once signified my gait
And laced my tongue

Discarding the cobwebs of diffidence
To discover myself anew
Meaningful, significant, unhesitant
Raring to invest in life

How strange is it then
That we pray only for tailwinds
When the catalyst for evolution
Lies hidden in the sting of headwinds

Subir Chakraborty / 22nd Dec 2018

I stood arrested by my immediate present
Not daring to look back with ease
Letting the moment sink in slowly
With tingling numbness, with extreme unease

Did you also feel the same
When you saw me fleetingly that day
Your eyes posing a thousand questions
Your mind reminiscing the near forgotten way

It was indeed brief
And yet it seemed the telling of a tale
When your eyes seemed to half whisper
The advent of a gale

The unanswered questions
Continued to remain unanswered
The half open lips
Left the precious words unuttered

And yet you said it all
Your sheer anguish rising to a crescendo
Only the circumstances as always
Standing like a rock between the duo

Only some strands of air
Separated us that day
Only our sense of individuality
Held complete sway

‘If only and only if’
Will forever ring in our ears
If only we could muster the courage
And scale back the long lost years

Subir Chakraborty / 16th Sept 2018