atindriyo.blogspot.com
Barbaric, Mystical, Bored: From a High Roof
http://atindriyo.blogspot.com/2015/04/from-high-roof.html
Barbaric, Mystical, Bored. Saturday, April 4, 2015. From a High Roof. On a high roof. There's nothing to look up to. And you can live. And you can die. And the rats won't bother. And the history of the universe won't matter. The ways and means are all the same. But the ladders are all broken. And the bulldogs are all dead. And the sparrows are all Philomela. On a high roof. We won't fight for land and bread. We will look at the stars and tell ourselves that the war is over. And that it's never over.
atindriyo.blogspot.com
Barbaric, Mystical, Bored: Do Nambari Confessional
http://atindriyo.blogspot.com/2015/03/do-nambari-confessional.html
Barbaric, Mystical, Bored. Thursday, March 12, 2015. You had tiny hands. And your ankles were beautiful. I don’t remember much. And we were saving the magic like we still do. And the universe was very big like it still is. And there were and there still are big people. Who sell love for security and intellect for cynicism. And the last time I saw you you were fighting them. And the last time I heard from you you were fighting them. Seeing and hearing have become beautiful ever since –. But that your hand...
atindriyo.blogspot.com
Barbaric, Mystical, Bored: How the Brahmins Got Screwed Over in Jajpur
http://atindriyo.blogspot.com/2015/04/how-brahmins-got-screwed-over-in-jajpur.html
Barbaric, Mystical, Bored. Tuesday, April 21, 2015. How the Brahmins Got Screwed Over in Jajpur. A li'l bit of anarchy:. Then came the 13th century. A period of anarchy, one demarcated as the 'Dark Ages' of Bengali Literature by all the Hindu Indian Nationalist Bengali post-partition scholars from West Bengal. Established scholars from East Pakistan like Mohd. Shahidulla had chosen to maintain stoic objectivity. The plaintiff is from Jajpur, Sol Shah’s family has read the Vedas. He asks, why this tax?
songs-from-the-road.blogspot.com
The Little Grey Squiggles.: April 2012
http://songs-from-the-road.blogspot.com/2012_04_01_archive.html
The Little Grey Squiggles. Saturday, April 21, 2012. The desert sands can do strange things to a person. The grains burrow deep into your skin to lend your face a timeless quality. The old man squatting opposite us was around ninety, but he looked older than anyone I had ever seen. Underneath a pair of bushy eyebrows, his eyes still retained sparks of a long forgotten fire. 8220;We never had enough water in those days. There was only one well, many kilometres away. People would walk there and sta...8220;...
songs-from-the-road.blogspot.com
The Little Grey Squiggles.: Home, sweet soul
http://songs-from-the-road.blogspot.com/2012/04/home-sweet-soul.html
The Little Grey Squiggles. Monday, April 16, 2012. Home, sweet soul. The city is lies, deceit and pretend humane. It is a complex machine of sorts, masquerading with a human face, a familiar place. It lulls its unknowing people into a complacent nap. Everything is alright because I am a happy place with a smiling face. Believe in me and the buildings that you see around you. You are mistaken. Behind those shut windows are not soulless souls who pretend to live. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom).
atindriyo.blogspot.com
Barbaric, Mystical, Bored: you are always beautiful
http://atindriyo.blogspot.com/2015/03/do-nambari-confessional-volume-two.html
Barbaric, Mystical, Bored. Wednesday, March 25, 2015. You are always beautiful. You are always beautiful. And little birds wake up and sing to your fruits on blue mornings like these which are like the Blue Danube. I've never been to Danube. But i've seen blue lakes and wild mountain-springs. I have jumped in some of them, and i have stared at broken sunsets on big wild rivers. It doesn't matter whether it returned or not. And it doesn't matter where and how the wheel turned and where and how wheels turn.
songs-from-the-road.blogspot.com
The Little Grey Squiggles.: March 2012
http://songs-from-the-road.blogspot.com/2012_03_01_archive.html
The Little Grey Squiggles. Tuesday, March 27, 2012. Six little bricks made up the tiny hut. Some were crumbly and some were not. I lived inside and hoped that the strong ones would stand. One day, they all fell down on me. And covered me with a layer of fine dust. I stood up and realised. It wasn’t so bad after all. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). 8220;What a horror it would have been if the world was real, because if the world was real, it would be immortal.”. View my complete profile. With a dash of salt.
songs-from-the-road.blogspot.com
The Little Grey Squiggles.: After listening to Porcupine Tree.
http://songs-from-the-road.blogspot.com/2013/05/after-listening-to-porcupine-tree.html
The Little Grey Squiggles. Monday, May 27, 2013. After listening to Porcupine Tree. It’s been a long time since I have loved you. I guess with after so many years and so many other faces, I have somehow started forgetting how it feels to have felt for you. After all, even intensity needs practice. Yes, it’s definitely been a long time. I guess loving is also a habit, isn’t it? Sometimes, I am not even sure. Sure of whether it’s your face behind all that’s been happening to me. That sc...Will I be able to...
atindriyo.blogspot.com
Barbaric, Mystical, Bored: Song For Nathaniel Halhed
http://atindriyo.blogspot.com/2015/04/song-for-nathaniel-halhed.html
Barbaric, Mystical, Bored. Friday, April 24, 2015. Song For Nathaniel Halhed. I sing for you. The sun is true and the moon is blue. Your ghost flies from Portugal. And sails straight to Bally Khal. Yours be the ship, admiral. Shagor awthoi, TalmaTal. Ratri awthoi, TalmaTal. Yours be the oar and yours be the hull. Your grammar book is the greatest thing. Since Icarus and his wing. Firang nam upkar arth. Mirth takes birth on worthy earth! Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Datta Dayadhvam. Damyata.
atindriyo.blogspot.com
Barbaric, Mystical, Bored: ‘That Boy’ a short story by Sandipan Chattopadhyay (1933-2005)
http://atindriyo.blogspot.com/2015/04/that-boy-short-story-by-sandipan.html
Barbaric, Mystical, Bored. Sunday, April 26, 2015. 8216;That Boy’ a short story by Sandipan Chattopadhyay (1933-2005). Hey, do you have parents? What do you do? How much do you get every day? 20 paisa. 30 paisa. What do you yeat? How much did you make today? I haven’t begged today. Didn’t feel like. Nice shirt. Chains and all! Did you buy it? Did anyone give it? Where did you get it from? Saw your mom die? Where did she die? What was her name? Ever seen your dad? Mom told his name? What’s your age? Tihuv...
