Tubelight in room

I see your heart beats,
the light shrinks as if,
never would it glow,

you made me see you did,
you saw me endless nights
The last spur I think,

Time I forgot,
Switch made you shrink

And the darkness till the finger
till to the switch it may linger

Never ever forever
you are light and no rude

I study books and wonder
Could you,......??

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A contemplation

Connecting a life needs to be a set of dynamic thoughts without any words, for words disguise our confidence in ourselves, an obstruction to the perception of reality.

When we put forth a proposal which is motivated by the words of economic wisdom which we too believe it not to be the act guided by our heart, which strives to say that “you were supposed to do it that way, even you acknowledged it at that point of time. Words confuse our state of being, since it provides us multi dimensional way to express the self and get rid off when the action is over. Though it has not the direct effect on us, but imperatively our conscience feels great sense of pain & guilt. The emission of the rays by the sore soul is never good for health of the person himself & for others as well. That is the reason why positive ideas does not appears to be practical and so, by re use of words we get seduced leading to the undesired actions . Now there lies another truth, which indeed is the global soul as one. We forget that personification of our greed or to be selfish is to live in mirage. The mirage is the belief that I have my soul and it is just me, while “I” is  a part of the universal soul or even if we deny it, sooner or later we feel that the person sitting nearby is really nearby & the person reading, writing or understanding this text is not different at all, but one. Even these words typed here carry no meaning, because these words are outcome of feeling to share (30), feeling to type (20), feeling to bring people closer (40) and usage of words by proper arrangement(10).

The above three are feelings, which is undefined but a perception of reality, the usage of words is a matter of training but when we look closer we would find that training also can’t be understood by our body & bodies don’t lie.

My Light

My Teacher, My light...
Because of whom my language, the tool which helped me to pave the path from ignorance to the wisdom ; I owe you which shall remain unfulfilled, for my work shall never be able to face your greatness.

About my Teacher (Dr. C.M. Mukherjee)

M.A. Ph.D. in English and First Class First ( Gold Medalist) in M.A. Philosophy, Taken a Special Course from the Pelman Institute ( London); Professor of English, with more than 40 years of teaching  experience of PG and M. Phil Classes; Examiner in Several Universities, a subject expert of quite a few. A recognized Ph D Guide of Pt. Ravishankar Shukla University, Raipur, has produced some fine, knowledgeable Scholars. Also a visiting Professor of the same. Besides many research papers, authored a  book  on a non-dramatic poet, Edmund Spenser. An active participant and a resource person in English conferences and seminars.The Ex- President of the Indian Theosophical Society. Also indented in the Executive Body of Sri Aurobindo Society, Pondichery (India), the Raipur Branch,. In HNLU    a member of the Proctorial Board, the Anti- Ragging Committee, the Editorial Board and the Literary and Debating Society

My Book

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Once upon a time

A Cobbler in the Scottish terrains walks with nonsense thoughts...
And he competed shine of shoes against shine of the green field half covered in light and half, the dark..once upon a time, he was a saint..

A Prisoner's life in 5 feet/10 feet cell depicts things we vaule nothing..
--> A few feet walk for him becomes a luxury... once a time in a day he is allowed to feel sunlight..

--> Value of money loses in mind and so.. the barter system takes social life in prehistoric.. In a way, individual identity loses its shrine in the 24/7 uniform..

--> Ridiculous things he or his family did back at home strolls his mind and memory.. He wants them more... Wife yelling at him, Son demanding Bike..and he,reading sunday newspaper..He misses them..

--> You have lot of time there to spend... you lose track of minutes...

--> The one thing that keeps you sane is A4 size writing pad and 2-3 pens.

--> You want to feel handsome when your wife shall be coming next Saturday and you shave..but the new shirt(white),you can't wear as you can be confused with jail staffs..

--> At your mother's funeral, you may be allowed to attend,and console yourself and family.. After the rituals, you may feel to stay back.. But you feel the loneliness back in the cell that day..

--> The day you are released, you become a changed human being who has deeply experienced what is family and what means freedom, till then you have experienced it in books only...
-Once upon a time, he was free but not open... Once upon a time.

I

I rose years apart,
the Sun that never depart....
A felony caused the tryst,
beside the bank of my country,
Reminds me of the sorrow,
Sometime,
Somewhere is tomorrow,
Picking a lost feather,
I placed on my throne,
I am the king ruling none...
I am a part of soul I search,

A tryst with a droplet..
Of a spring that dried,
keeping in my palm yet..
a pinch of dream..
it would be ocean,
sometime,
Someday...

Whats on your mind

People want to say many things here,
things that means to them,
that are insdide,
sometimes paining or killing inside,
or sometimes the joys they feel,
they want to share,
everone wants to drop an apple pie,
or a pickle from the paining salty heart,
they do share,
Alas ! they know,
they know...
Like them,
every one...
No one listens as deep,
as in sonority they feel,
or if passer by waits to hear,
sometime they cheer,
And they move on,
leaving us with what we had to share,
Alas ! Life in short,
leaves us with a face,
One's Own journey,
One's own Experiences,
Silent in grave,
Silent in Grace........Saurabh Siddhartha

Nopera

Swear in my name,
lest you do right,
The fright hasn't yet be,
Moment though ye' cherish,
And I hear,
Blue blood spitting around,
I sense a sound,
Once upon a time,
A time,
Once......

Thief

Sheriff-"Twice it happened & I am not going to leave you"

Thief- "But we needed papers to paint, haven't had a dime to purchase" ?

Sheriff- It isn't my fault you buggers !! When you shall grow 18 you would realize this of your act invites imprisonment.

Thief- I know, mom taught me not to pee outside or ghost comes, not to lie or devil comes, and now the prison comes. Sheriff ! haven't seen any of them.

Thief accidently drops a locket from his pocket...and leaves

And now he steals locket... for... It was the only gift from his belated Grandfather while on bed..

It has been 30 years....

And in Nevada, the sheriff is now actor,
believing the locket he found is so lucky !!

Luckie

Zinischk, a lawyer settled in India around 1960. He was interviewed in 2009 because of his uniqueness. What was it, let's discover.

1.) He never spent money on food.
Zinischk--- What I'll do there ?
----> "You are coming, okay ! It is Roosi Bhartiya friendship. Its my marriage.
Z- Fine ! If you insist, but would love to stay with you for 2 days, we would have fun & vodka.
Just an example"
Anyways ! he had more than 500 friends, so parties , parties and parties..... No appetite room.

2) He never spent on travel... He just asked for lift and moved here and there. Whether it be Truck, Buses, Bikes (often), scooters etc.

3) He never spent money for home. His rooms were sponsored by his rich clients for simple consultations.

4) He earned & Earned only, he went as a guest lecturer to various colleges and got Books as gifts whatever he demanded for research.(Travel expenses were given by universities)


IF YOU THINK,
THIS IS FICTION....
AND PLATONIC,
IT IS NOT WRONG..... YES ! IT IS FICTION......... WHAT A LIFE ?

JUST ZINISCHK"

How to order online My Book

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Diary of shopkeeper

Dear Death,

I am scared of you, so scared that it keeps my steps bleeding to revert back, to retreat Life & solace again... Dear death ! I am talking with you where are you ?.... Why aren't you answering me ? I always believed in your existence. I have always cursed life. For it failed to provide me a glass full of water. I have left life a long back when I heard that fairy tales were just tales and fictious. Whenever I believed something that gave me happiness, my faith was shattered by the same people who gifted me those story books.. Dear death where are you ? Can I get you through suicide ? But people say that one who suicides become ghosts. I am scared to be a ghost, so I wouldn't dare to be ghost even the purpose is to see you. So, what next??
How to see you, where to see you ? Are you unseen god ? What are you death ?... But my age is increasing day by day.. I am being old, I want to see you. See death ! One thing is for sure that I am very impatient. If you don't show up right here and now, I will forget you, I will be no more scared of you...
Have you made-up your mind ? Now I feel that you truly don't exist, or even if you do.. I hardly care.. And now as I see no reason to be scared of you... Since you can't appear, no the god appears... I can know now only, that I am taking breath.. I am alive, I am inlove with my wife.. I have lovely children.. Here it is as far I see is what I was moving away from.. Here is life..
Death is a word now, with no adjectives...

The shopkeeper