Paradox Posted by Rajdip Biswas ,Thursday, August 20, 2009 at 8:38 AM,

It would have been half hour past three. I was landed in my cosy chair, satiating myself with a mug of coffee, pondering outside from window. For a creature from our urban kaleidoscopic society it would no less than a jaunt in the womb of Himalaya with such a quality living....but i guess there’s exception everywhere....I am jaded and surfeit with it. Loath with holding my sight on those gigantic mountains i looked on the road, from my window, which gives me a panoramic view of this small town, Munsyari. Noticing every little nuance made by peoples moving on it. This point of time as the cities hoi polloi are indulging themselves in the warmth of their family and blanket, only thing moving through these road are bevy of cattle’s and children coming back from school. Looking at them, i just lost myself in time. I guess it’s normal for everyone who had dote on their school time. Everyone in the uniform, it’s such a resplendent. Noticing every minute manoeuvre, specially done by those, who have just started this beautiful and splended odyssey. It’s exciting to noticing the gait of these little children, who are struggling enough to walk properly with their little body, big head (as compared to their body) and massive school bags. What binds me more is their juvenile benevolent nature, their hugging and cuddling, their innocent smile their jostling through the crowed, their boldness, their intrepidly pulling a dog’s tail or a ponytail. For them nothing is impossible. They are rather enjoying every moment with the flavour of their sublime naughty merriment. These little innocuous children unconsciously drawing a line between how they perceive this world is and how we as an adult take it. Everyone can notice this vividly, as i am witnessing, between these iridescent infant and their irksome seniors. This so called senior, seems lost in turmoil, their innocence is no more with them, their mind tarnished....sly, cunning and hostile feeling permeated deep into their heart. They live in a bleak atmosphere, breathing turmoil and splitting out poison with their words.
Not far from this flock of ignorance and innocent I found a prey (a weak link...surely innocuous) trapped between predators (a sly group), paying no heed no respect...Nothing. Spreading a foul in the ambiance. A foul so pungent that the aroma of Himalayan gust can’t penetrate it. A foul so deeply rooted in their heart, that the tears from the prey’s eyes, was not enough to awash it...not even close to bring mercy. I was wondering that their heart pumps blood or crude filled with sarcasm, animus, prejudice and dogma.
Surprisingly this is not new to our society. Everyone is playing this ‘predator and prey’ game, in some way or other. Maybe that’s what adulthood mean. Sardonically those who become good predator automatically get in the elite group of people who have the contrast of ‘nirvana of adulthood’. We all talk about religion, perfect way of living or art of living or humanitarian action or whatever, but deep inside we all know what adulthood in nutshell means. Paradoxical, isn’t???????

Lacerated Saccharine... Posted by Rajdip Biswas ,Sunday, August 16, 2009 at 8:05 PM,

Holding a null gaze, i was glued to my study chair. I guess i was contemplating about something. This feeling is no new to me. I hold this outlandish pain at the core of my heart from an archaic period. Year after year i felt this lacerated saccharine. I could hardly remember any day being shunned from it and now i guess i am addicted to it. Every now and then i lost my helm and indulge myself in this imbibe. I am pretty sure that this sweet venom is contributing a lot in my blood and whenever my consciousness wakeup form slumber (generally few times a day), it rushes directly to my brain and give me a state of serenity. Droplets rolled through my cheeks and dangle to my chin as a pendant think of whether it embellishes or glooming that moment. A catharsis followed by nostalgia elevates me from my present state, and then it starts.....I delve in the abyss of my past, lament on it mull about those wrong step i have taken. Little did i realise that i can’t change my past....no one can. Still this feeling revive itself as a moment of realisation for me and makes me paralysed. Today it’s a part of my identity, a part of who i am and what i loss in my life. Now i neither lament nor exclaimed of its presence but try to live with it in symbiosis, as this sweet pain is the only thing i left with after she.....