After the Storm

Rain fell on my window tonight

And I gazed up into the sky and saw a face

The face of God, reflected in the grimy window

I saw him smile and I saw the rain turn to storm

Hammering on my roof and walls

Like a tempest from Oz

I saw it as it diluted the world

Into blurry, soaking shapes

I could not tell a tree from a car

As I danced in gay abandon amid the lightning

And when it all was over

I smelled petrichor on my bare feet

I smelled it rising and saw the wind blowing it away

The calm after the storm had come

The Bilge Master

Fare Thee Well

Four years ago on a hot day in June I walked into college to get admitted. My admission was carried through by DKG sir. Four years have whipped by and have given me friends whom I will treasure, enemies whom I will leave behind, seniors who have been both mentors and guides and teachers who have always been there to clear doubts and offer reassurance in times of crisis.

I will miss the WiFi zone chats, the classes attended and bunked, the late night booze parties and every square inch of the college building which has become like home now.

I guess every student has gone through this phase more than once in their lives. It is time to leave the nest and try to fly.

Thank you, Dr. Sudhir Chandra Sur Degree Engineering College for the memories, wisdom and the security of being there

The Bilge Master

Hope

Another blank page stares at me

Waiting

It is waiting to be stained with words

Written in digital ink

I wonder if I will tell a story this time

My first ballad maybe?

I do not feel like writing

But nevertheless the idea

The idea won't be denied

Therefore

I am writing of the present

As the clock ticks on

And rain lashes the windowpanes

I wipe sweat from my brow

And try to differentiate a function

With music, my ally and dear friend

And darkness, my old one

As witnesses

While all around me the silent house

Slumbers in peace

It is now 5 AM

And we are on our way into the light

I close the books and try to sleep

In the growing light that fills me with hope

The Bilge Master

Coffee

Halloween 2011 was progressing just like an ordinary day would, until the evening came. It brought with it a group of kids out trick or treating. They rang our doorbell and screamed trick or treat into my face. I of course handed them an entire box of sweets from the fridge. I mean who wants to get in trouble with a group of kids?

That same evening, I met the group coming out of another building in the complex. I'd gone to fetch something for my mother. This time, having already tricked and treated me, they stopped and chatted. There was this dark girl with shining black eyes who was clearly the leader of this ragtag bunch and she made an impression on me. She told me she loved Halloween. I told her I did too, principally because I could use my sixth sense well on Halloween to smell out ghosts.

Her eyes widened and she blurted out "How can you do that?" I told her I was born with it. She immediately asked me if there were any ghosts in Sherwood (Sherwood Estate, Narendrapur where we stay) and was very disappointed when I said no.

I saw her in the compound the next day or rather she saw me and introduced herself as "Coffee". I told her that was the name of a beverage. She replied that it was also her name. A friendship was struck up and maintained. Coffee refused to tell me her real name, but she had a brain like a razor blade. We would discuss Harry Potter, Porcupine Tree and The Beatles on walks around the Sherwood compound. She could walk almost as fast as me despite being eight inches shorter.

We became good friends very fast. I think I was drawn to her intellect. She would give me life advice that actually made sense, she would pry into my life but do it in such a way as to not give offense. She told me when her dog passed away, but I never saw her cry.

She was one of the strangest, quirkiest and rewarding friendships I had ever had.

And then, one day she vanished into thin air. She had just mentioned that she was headed for London. That was all the information I got out of her.

We had shifted to Asansol and this flat in Sherwood remained empty for three years, until we came back to Kolkata and moved in here again. I take a walk daily around the campus and I take the route Coffee and me used to take- starting out in front of the clubhouse and circling the entire complex from that epicenter. 

Coming back here has brought back memories of the friendship.

I wonder where Coffee is now. I wonder what she's doing. I wonder if she is ever going to read this and I hope someday I'll see her again. I might be sounding naive but there it is. Let us see what happens next,and if at all this friendship resumes.

The Bilge Master

Replacement - A Guest Post by Arunima Prakash

The post below is written by my friend Arunima Prakash. Welcome her to the blog people!

The Bilge Master

Replacement is a lie,
You can never really be replaced.
No one has the same hues you do,
Or the same smile.
No one else can wrinkle their eyes,
The way you do when you laugh
And even the sun bathes each person,
in a different shade of gold.
The pores on your skin
Are like no other,
And no one smells the way you do,
After a long day at work,
When all you want is to close your eyes
But instead you look at yourself in the mirror,
And wonder if someone similar exists and you go to bed smiling,
Cuz you know they don't.
Replacement is a lie told by world's poorest liars

The City

He had seen many things in the city- slums, nightclubs, bookstores hidden in dilapidated buildings. He had friends there and his college as well. He knew quite a few people, handpicked from various places such as Facebook or his school and college and sometimes just by saying hello on the street.

He remembered the time when he went shopping at Gariahat for the first time, how the crowd had seemed immense and had frightened him. He remembered walks down College Street and the Esplanade area, looking for something unusual to add to his collection of knick knacks. He remembered meeting his sister in law at Cafe Coffee Day and how proud his brother had looked while making the introduction. He also remembered the bookstore a friend took him to and how there were books there on every surface. Memories filled the city, such as meeting his junior’s girlfriend and hitting it off with her, or the first time a senior had said hello to him in college.

He remembered his student’s father, whom he had introduced to Coldplay. He remembered the look in the man’s eyes when the song Fix You finished. He remembered getting on the wrong bus just to go somewhere else for a change or stepping out of a crowded metro train because he saw a friend on the platform.

The city never failed to surprise him. He knew the city and the city knew him. It was a bond forged in his infancy. As he grew, the city smiled down on him, beckoning him to explore. He remembered wandering its alleyways and shopping malls with people who had become his close friends. He remembered the phone call that brought back a friend he had known since class 4, and the surprise meeting with another one at Mani Square.

Recently his family had moved to Asansol. For three years he had taken a bus down the highway to meet them on weekends. He had lived, but without his parents it had seemed a half life- with one foot on the ground in the city and the other miles away in Asansol.

But, his parents were moving back to the city. Soon, he would reside in it with them. He had missed them. He need miss them no longer. The city was waiting for them. All would be as before. There was always hope in the city.

The Bilge Master   

Until We Meet Again

They say everything has an end

So other things may begin

They say the sun will burn out

And there will be no moon to take its place

Things have a way of reaching a climax

And then slowly fading away,

Memories are nothing but fistfuls of sand

Slipping through arthritic fingers,

One grain at a time

And so we turn to photos and videos

To remember what it was that ended

And what began in its place

As did my student life

In six months no more

All my classes, professors and friends

Sped by in a daze of color and sound

While I sat and looked out from a balcony on the fourth floor

However, since all comes to an end, I suppose I’m being naive

Because life is beckoning me onto the next stage

And the memories I spoke of earlier

Will remain wrapped in polythene

Somewhere in the corners of my mind

And so I do not say farewell

But prefer to state it thus

Until we meet again, before we turn to dust

Remember me, and wish me luck

The Bilge Master