Shadow Of Light

Atri Majumder

Shadow Of Light

Atri Majumder

www.power-publishers.com

Shadow Of Light

Atri Majumder

www.power-publishers.com

Copyright: Atri Majumder

Published by: Power Publishers,www.Power-Publishers.comSwabhumi Residency,P-12 Motijheel Avenue,Block 2, 1st floor,Kolkata 700074.

Printed from:

Cover Design: Abhijit Bhanja

First Published: November 2012

ISBN number: 978-93-82070-89-4

Price: ` 100/-

Available from: www.Power-Publishers.comwww.Flipkart.comwww.infibeam.comwww.uRead.comwww.crossword.in

Printed on recycled paper. No trees were cut for the production of this book. Allrights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrievalsystem, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical,photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the publisherand author. The views expressed in this book are those of the author. The publisheris not in any way responsible for the views expressed in this book. All legal actionsare subject to the jurisdictions of courts of Kolkata, India.

In Memoriam

Subrata Pal,

My loving uncle

Introduction

“Even when poetry has a meaning, as it usually has, it may beinadvisable to draw it out... Perfect understanding will sometimesalmost extinguish pleasure.”-A.E.Housman

The beauty of poetry lies in the fact that a thousandwords can be expressed in just a few lines succinctly. Ibelieve that a poem is truly successful when ten differentreaders can interpret it in ten different perspectives andcan interfuse the philosophy of the poem with their ownrespective philosophies of life. That does not mean that apoet has the liberty to scramble a few lines and leave it tothe readers to extract a meaning out of the poem!Ofcourse, the poet has the freedom to write for himself, thatis he can infuse his own thoughts and perspectives intothe poem, but still these thoughts should possess thequality to be universalized when interpreted correctly.The rudiments of thoughts in the poet’s mind can thensprout cogently in the reader’s mind.

I think that any true creation is borne out of thesubconscious mind, i.e. the artist uses the subconsciouspart of his brain more than the conscious part, while inthe process of creation, thus bringing out the innermostthoughts. The result is the outburst of the thoughts andemotions accumulated in the artist’s mind.

I hope that every reader can interpret each of the poemsin this book in their own way and connect it with theirown thoughts. I love to be criticized, so please feel free tomail me your views at atri.cal@gmail.com.

Atri Majumder

Kolkata, 2012

Acknowledgements

First and foremost, I would like to thank my parentswithout whose constant support this book wouldn’thave seen the light of day. I would always be indebtedto Antarip Roy, my friend, philosopher and guide whohave always encouraged me. I would like to thank allmy friends, teachers, relatives and well-wishers whohave helped me and inspired me. I would also like toacknowledge the support of Pinaki Ghosh and JoyitaChatterjee of Power Publishers.

Contents

Anemone 13

Curtain Call 14

Don't Look Back 15

Midnight 17

Incubus 18

Incognito 20

I will 21

Who are you? 22

Time 23

Animosity 24

Idiosyncrasy 25

Tutelary 26

Trellis 27

Retrogression 28

Society 30

Euthanasia 32

Lust 33

The Pessimist 34

Shadow Of Light 35

Otiose 36

Calignosity 37

The Last Train 38

Discordia 39

Art for Art’s Sake 40

Love Road 41

Manali 42

Citified 43

Catechism 44

Adolescence 45

Eschatology 46

13

Anemone

Contours of clouds etching beauty in our obliviousminds,We are trying to touch the skyline,We are returning to a new world everyday,Every minute we are changing into something new,There is a gap, there is a void.

Here we are lost in a maze,Look out from the window of the train-It’s blurred-it’s life,It’s polluted-it’s dark,It’s a locked door,We have lost all the keys.

There is an empty crowd walking in these shadowylanes,It’s ever changing in a whirlpool of stagnant water,A catacomb of blind reasons,We are listening to the vainglorious lies of the victor,The moths are kissing the sublime lamp light.

14

Curtain Call

When the curtain falls on truth,We feel ourselves suffocating in an empty stage,Trying to trust ourselves again,To rewind and relive the moments,To direct the play in our own way,And make it right this time!

Alas! Time acts indifferently,Cruelly judging us,Abandoning us with an empty script,Yet the play is always unfinished,Dissatisfaction keeps tormenting us,Couldn’t we start all over again?

Everyone is leaving the stageFading away in the shadows of reality,Darkness is gradually engulfing us,The dialogues are losing their passion,Though the audience is still applauding,Couldn’t we dream once again?

15

Don't Look Back

Can’t you see?The birds of the sycamore are at last freeFree to pursue the clouds untouched,Don’t look backJust keep walking with me.

Can’t you read?The premonitions of carefree fateEngraved on shadowy walls,Don’t look backJust tell me what you need.

Can’t you smell?The redolence of rainWashing away the dusts of agony,Don’t look backJust believe me it’s all real.

Can’t you feel?Kites of passion touching the shoresShores of our dreams entwined,Don’t look backJust listen to my last appeal.

Can’t you think?Of those surreal timesWrought with a myriad of memories,Don’t look back

16

Just know that you are the missing link.

Can’t you hear?The autumn leaves shedding nearShedding away their abating days,Don’t look backJust be here forever.

17

Midnight

Midnight over burnt cigarettesFree to reflect bygone daysFeelings unpenned question me,Abating shadows, flying ashes.

Sometimes a haunting melodyFloats asunder in the calm breeze,The window sings eulogies to the moonThe stars are showing the lost way.

Equations of time have failed to proveThe beauty of night-the serenity,Dawn will soon invade my thoughts,Disrupt the flow of a silent rhapsody.

18

Incubus

Strolling alone in the shadows,I stopped at a dream,Never wanting to wake up,I stood there alone,Near the cherry tree.

The cadence of the rustling leavesIn tandem with an uncanny silence,An incomplete rhapsody,The myriad memories rushed inLaughter reverberating.The spirits came one by oneA cacophony of faded passion,An untimely realization.

The indelible footsteps danced to the tuneThe redolence of vigour filled the air,The warmth of friendship lit up the dreamDrenched in the stupor of exhilaration,We drank life to the lees.

The concord of lost days whispered to meTouched my innocence,"We were here"-A silent echoA designed strain,It completed the rhapsody.

19

The yellow withered leaves touched my feet,As if reminiscing the spring of our lives,"We are beyond all that" they said,It’s autumn now,Don't yearn for usIt's too late.

An oblivious infatuation with lifeThe dance has stopped,Culminating into a haunting voidA tormenting saturninity,Then they were gone.An otiose game they have played,Leaving me all alone,In the recesses of a melancholy symphony.

20

Incognito

I walk into those streetsWhere the streets have no name,Where desire can’t find it way ,And lose its head with theMadness of expectations.

I walk into those dreamsWhere the dreams have no name,Where reality can’t find its way,And lose its passion with theFutility of reasons.

I fly in those skiesWhere the birds have no name,Where the wings can’t find its way,And lose its direction with theUnreliable clouds of destiny.

Inspired by "Where the streets have no name" by U2

21

I will

I will stop the sounds of my thoughtsJust to listen to your voice.

I will stop feeling everythingJust to feel your touch.

I will stop dreamingJust to think about you.

I will stop the flow of timeJust to hold you forever.

I will stop my heartbeatJust to feel yours.

22

Who are you?

Where reality ends, our dreams beginA colourless canvas of myriad possibilitiesExplanations of indefinable objectsWhat are we trying to seek?

Nature, science, religion or ourselves?Philosophy of life can perhaps satiate us.

But again, what is life?Can life explain its own existence?Can your mind show you its devices?Look at the mirror again-who are you?

23

Time

There was a time I could seeThere was a time I could feelThere was this time when I was a kite,There the wind followed meLike the leaves of the sea,And the waves felt so glad -But they never came -they never came back.

Memory don’t play with meIt’s time for you to see, you to feel,The scarlet skies can’t take away the daylight clouds,It’s time, but I won’t let you go now,I will be waiting at the feet of the sycamoreWhere shadows still seek life in an obscure dream.

Ripples of thoughts in dark waters making me run incircles,Futile products of a merciless time taking toll on mydreams,Stuck in the moment-enslaved to a rusty innocence,Trying to understand the voice of reality-evading theeventual emptinessImpetuosity is reigning my nature,Leading me to the deserted grounds of inexorable fateA hydrophobic is still trying to catch the rain.

24

Animosity

"What has been will be again, what has been done will beagain; there is nothing new under the sun."- Ecclesiastes 1:9

Another forgotten minute, another dilapidated bridge,A kaleidoscopic view colouring obscurity,Cinders of ash still trying to simplifyCrawling into the veins of the earth.

Let me search again, let me catch the wavesLet me go again, let me do something new.

Grains of dusty rays arranging another dawn,Tearing apart the veils, bruising the moonlight,Slowly metamorphosing shadows to reality,Creating small deserts amidst the seas.

Let me look again, let me grasp the sandsLet me lose again, let me fight another war.

25

Idiosyncrasy

I am the innocence of a child,I am the laughter of a friend,I am the promises of love,I am the care of a father,I am the responsibility of a husband,I am the expectations of my parents.

I am life in all its fragility, unpredictability,I am the disappointment of a broken society,I am a drunkard for no reason,I am those memories long forgotten,I am the jeopardized lights of the city,I am full of lies veiled with beauty,I am a street haunted with desires,I am the pain of a broken heart,I am the visions of a schizophrenic,I am the dried up colours on the canvas,I am the fiddle of the composer,I am the alchemist lost in a desert,I am the moral anarchy of a harlot,I am the monarch of beggars,I am the chaos before creation.

Still, I am what you have made me-Look, I am running,Running from myself.Look, I am still trying,Trying to eviscerate and rise again.

26

Tutelary

"When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shallnot do him wrong"- Leviticus 19:33

You told me Lazarus will rise again,You told me you’ll take me to the Promised Land,I counted your footsteps, I saw the light in your eyes,I felt the order in the ataxia of dialectics,Yet another mirror is broken, another shattered sky.

You trample on me everyday, never a drop of rain fallsto erase the footprints,You draw the designs on the desecrated messed uplandscape ,I haven’t given up, neither am I starting life on a newleaf,I'm not even remembering, I have even forgotten howto memorize,Yet another city is jeopardized, another universedestroyed.

27

Trellis

You feel the web growing larger by the day,You are walking inside a pantopticon,Your address is that tiny space between two clouds,You are living life in an infinite nightmare.

Rainbows meandering in the murky waters,Poppies intoxicating the sun-postponing the dawn.

The leaves will fall one by one,You can just watch them falling-helpless,You will still be waiting for that last leaf,Oblivious that others have been watching too.

28

Retrogression

Freedom is overrated-obscure, meaningless,An inner solitude or a pain covered up with lies,An imperfect architecture of hypocrisy.Solitude is an impossibility, bliss- a myth,Listen, listen again-there is no silenceThere is great unrest-there is chaos.

No use running away,An escapist is non-existent,The voices are tumultuous,Compose-tie up the strings,Keep on tapping the piano keys.There will always be loose ends,Like the blossoms of an emergent spring,A picture will arise-ever incomplete.It will echo through the algid winter winds,Lose itself in the copacetic autumn breeze.Perhaps it will come back to us,It's never preordained-it will always be a novelty,It will always change, metamorphose,And again it will be eradicated in the blink of an eye.

Someday you will find it again in an alien fragrance-fragments,Awake- build it up again,We are all in a stupor-there is no absolute,There is always an antithesis-nothing is self evident,Fact is an illusion.

29

A subconscious reality creating its way through a mazeof fallacious dreams,Like the unpredictable clouds we are seeking the truthin an ephemeral firmament,Infinite, vast, it is constantly escaping us, running away,A glimpse of subtle rain-a delirious moment oftransitory exuberance.

30

Society

Break out! Break out!Pulverize the dreary walls,Take what is yours,Feel what you are,Can’t you see what you have become?Chained to a society,Of lies you think is the truth,Of dreams you think is reality,Of hatred you think is love,Of moral death you think is life.

You are a piece of paper being written on,Stamped by inhumanity,So mechanical! So unreal!What have you become?Think againOr have you forgotten to do that?Toeing the line forever.

They call it revolution,They call your ideology rebellious,Ask them what is the truth?If there is any,Ask them why they are veiling it?

The mirrors of your life don’t reflect you,The canvas can’t bear your portrait,Nothing is yours! Nothing is real!

31

You are the product of a messed up society,Don’t point at others, stop blaming,‘Cause you have created it,Yes you, you-a revolving door of pent up emotions,Afraid to break loose,A life of falsehood,You can’t ever live 'your' life,You are nothing but a part of them,A civilization, an organization ,You are the so called 'society'.

32

Euthanasia

I have decided to fade away,Into the shadows that were once gay.I have decided to stop time today,And leave my dreams in the ash tray,

I want to feel life once again,And breathe more often.I want to feel the pain,And walk down a blind lane.

33

Lust

Wake me up with your midnight kisses,Find me in your heart's recess.

Burn the love letters with passion,And feel pleasure interweaving with pain.

Fill my nostrils with the odour of your breath,Stop the time, make it run late.

Feel the flames of passion burning bright,Leave the stains of love on the moonlight.

Drench my mind with an insatiable desire,Make this dream go on forever.

34

The Pessimist

Traveler off the beaten track,What more do you want back?Back from the life you threw away,And your dreams to be lost in its own sway?

Are you in love with your passion,Or is it just an infatuation?Are you still waiting for reincarnation?Hoping to grasp lost faith again.

Dwelling on the threshold of darkness,Realizing it’s not yours to possess,Power to play truant with destiny,With your mind so profound in mutiny.

35

Shadow Of Light

The firmament beckons my innocence,Transcending me to my childhood days.The morning dew sparkling on the grass,Makes time stand still as if lost in a trance.

Like the futile attempts of a persistent alchemist,I try to grasp time and put my mind to rest.My serenity is restored by the fragrance of rain,Drifting away down the memory lane.

Lost in the shadow of light,Like travelers eluding the night,I have waited till the sun arose,Making myself a stranger to repose.

36

Otiose

Mountains I have climbed,With the seas on my mind,Yet failed to see the horizon,Of truth, sought in vain.

Nights I haven’t slept,Dreams have I kept,Yet failed to see the passion,Of love, sought in vain.

Skies have I touchedWoods have I searchedYet failed to see the reasonOf peace, sought in vain.

With the rain have I danced,With thunder in my blood,Yet failed to see the motionOf time, sought in vain.

37

Calignosity

From beyond the realms of our understanding,We seek the stains of truth,Ghastly apparitions of reality,Shadows of flying dust, an empty feeling.

Wingless birds show us the way,Invisible walls divide the firmament,And push us to the edge of the clouds,Where our dreams are slowly drained away.

Darkness stares at us with bitter sarcasm,Sneering ironically from the depths of emptiness,Satanic memories reach the nadir of cruelty,Inscribing the epitaph of life on our sepulchral thoughts.

38

The Last Train

We are standing on a station of inconstancy,Life is waiting for that last train which stops the time.Regret! Regret! Regret!Stuck in retrospection,The lines are synchronized,Listen for that whistle,Let it echo throughout your mind.A blink of an eye, a misty moon,You are the driver, instigator,A tormented soul suffering from incapability,And you are blind.

39

Discordia

As guilt turmoils with your conscience every moment,You look back-only to see it’s too late,Your veins are saturated with vices-That have crept on you over the years,You are the victim of yourself.

You try to escape from the inevitable consequences,The ruins of your empire of lies torments you,You can’t wipe away the stains of hypocrisy,Waiting for that inexorable outburst-Trying to live in another so called optimistic story.

40

Art for Art’s Sake

“Life beats down and crushes the soul and art remindsyou that you have one.”-Stella Adler

Sunlight seeping into an undefeatable darkness,Seeking the reason of its own creation,The politics of truth metamorphosing life into an infinitevoid,Helpless, unstable like a perpetual earthquake,Feverish, we are waking up to nothingness,Juxtaposing theories with different realities.

Religion shadows an indefinable humanity,Creativity is our never-ending absolute,Art is the immortal sunlight in an infinite search,Our existence proves itself,Drinks the ether through a creation,Leaving the impression of an indelible light.

41

Love Road

I’ll be waiting for you on the road of love,Where moonlight will guide you to me,Where the fragrance of roses will fill your head,Where the violins of passion will never cease playing,Where dreams will be translated to reality,Where rainbows will never fade away,Where no strings will be attached to our time,On that road, my love, we two will be travelers of a newdawn.

42

Manali

I express myself silently, drenched in solitude,Voices inside my head keep reverberating,From the snow capped Himalayas,An echo keeps questioning meAsking me who I am,But not who I used to be,Nor about my destiny.

It rejuvenates me obliviously,Stops the time-reminiscent lively Manali.From the depths of this little hill town,I find the answers to that question with a penetratingsubtlety,A life plagued with reasons and questions,A sound playing in these majestic shadows,Trees, plush meadows, roses, a dreamy road,Creating memories-I have woken up from a feverishnightmare,Far away from the jeopardizing cacophony of city life,Into the laps of beauty.

43

Citified

Metamorphosing memories, surreal dreams,An emperor of lies-an oblivious destitute.A staircase of failures and rotten ambitions,Chasing the most valueless thing-money,Creating an ever widening void amidst the maddeningcrowd.

Failed relationships-advertising depression,A juxtaposition of desire and emotion,Never standing inside the ring,Morning traffic, blinking mobile, hallucinating.Raindrops failing to blur the vision,Cigarettes, alcohol or Pink Floyd,Futile attempts to avoid.

There’s no escape,There’s no reality,There’s no constancy,The present tense does not exist.

44

Catechism

Why is it all coming downLike gravity is pulling down my thoughts?

Why do I keep running in circlesAs if the world is chasing me?

Why do I not feel anythingLike a deluge is making me numb?

Why can I only see darknessLike light has turned me blind?

Why do I keep asking the same questionsAs if my shadow will answer them?

45

Adolescence

Walking through the misty times of adolescence,Drowning in the tender harshness of reality,Trying to unfold the dreamy petals,I seek myself in the mirror of dreary expectations.

I suffocate and try to escape,But society never leaves the bottle uncorked,I scream out silently and keep on compromising.

The questions are better kept unanswered,The dusty reasons complicate me,Passionate promises haunt me,I keep on asking the veiled faces,Is this the inception of light or darkness?

46

Eschatology

I can’t see the end, ‘cause I’m standing on the edge,Blurred images, it doesn’t make sense.My dreams have turned grey,I am, but a parenthesis of society.

Life is sneering at me,Tormenting me with its silent criticism,It has been a futile journey,Life is to me-a paradox.

I have been chasing shadows,Lost in a world of selfish dreams.Still I want to think again,Is it all my fault or society’s?