Writing seems to be ebullient even while narrating the continuum of depreciating existence. The type of energy writing survives on seems to be of an unearthly nature. As a writer, I feel, there is a narrow labyrinthine scope allowed for a piece of creative narrative to witness the other end of the deliberate maze. All that the maze is composed of are — criticisms, rejections, premature conjectures, … Continue reading Labyrinthine Journey
Sometimes time is like an emollient Sometimes it is like a furious knife The places are blotchy from harsh lights Weather is not fair either; clingy mess Curious, jealous, and highly corrosive One has to endure that too Heart feels like a guilty tenant Not able to pay the rent with feelings That can ameliorate some of the pain Life feels stuck like a crude … Continue reading Of being Stuck Somewhere
When the plunge into the unfavourable air grips me with chaos Time feels inimical and fleeting shadows mock for this foolishness Night has trouble lifting itself from the from the dense dreams In a wintry night, the clothes are dead cold; it embraces with icy fierceness Even my bones feel shaken from the harsh plunge I have taken It was not a pledge, but a … Continue reading The Plunge
The roads have become smoother, but the journey has become more complicated compared to the past. One does not feel like a traveller anymore, but more of a compulsive being who moves ahead; these days, the roads disappear more frequently, new ones appear rather hastily, and one has to adjust the rhythm of the steps like a professional novice trying to be an expert. Somehow, … Continue reading Perceptions of a Performer
It’s not easy to keep love alive in a monotonous heart When you take a handful of emotions and leave the rest aside Colour them with your language; it feels as you own it Speaks to you, listens too- if that makes you happy What about the rest of the emotions? You fail miserably; with all this beauty and insincere desire The kind of love … Continue reading The Possibilities of Love
Writing is not just about writing! It has more to do with prior thinking, clearing away the forced inputs of curated thoughts, and believing in the independence of the mind. Commonly, thinking pulls you from different directions, while experiencing the struggle of listening to them with your senses. You are forced to adhere to the essence of all that you touch with your senses. When … Continue reading Essaying
When there is no more freedom to be right Only possible visuals for the eyes are disguised in madness Staring at the unchanging destiny- time shrinks and crumble Only there is some feeble murmur of hopelessness Destiny pledges to the feelings that torment the being Lands tightened by resistance and indiscriminate pillage Age seems to wear off and become feeble before time Thoughts are sharpened … Continue reading If That’s Right
An uneasy smile takes time to settle down on the lips Motionless life feels unpractised after experiencing the rush World broods; you have decided to part ways with it Picked solitude over the incessant talks of everyone else There seems to be a palpitation in the air about the next step Nothing can define idleness in the midst of a twist It is important to … Continue reading Uneasy Smile
Sometimes the quaintness of hell one has to settle for Well disguised, the motives; abducted by the alluring feel Hands of Hades, or the spirit willing to take this course Happens, when the cunning mists obscure the reality World’s fortune transforms into that menacing rapid Slippery and hazy, the life tumbles down helplessly Raised hands signal the heavens; in prayer for rescue Beautiful dreams in … Continue reading Unsettling
We rarely discuss and frequently criticise! Even before one can reach a logical conclusion, the premature criticisms eclipse any further reasoning. The idea of censuring is more of an acquired consciousness from a traditional way of approaching a new idea, especially, if it is a creative one. There is rarely any creative criticism, but a lot of rudimentary ways to counter them! Is it the … Continue reading The Censure
Amitav Chowdhury 