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panchalibolchi

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Déjà VuEarly in the morningCorpuscular rays of sunlightFilter thro’ the trees—andtouch me fleetinglyI can’t hold myself, slip into the veldt;Foliage almost topical on the forest-floorEntwine around my feet- what luck!The rustle of the stag-ferns, the murmursof the torrent stream rushing with bushes,twigs through the ravine; all play together,to enlighten me…initiate me- Puzzled, I peek around the bushes; Whipping affinities, analogies…                                   And progress….Time rolls by, as I kee...
panchalibolchi...
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  July 18, 2013, 10:54 pm
With thirst of AdventureI climbed on a twenty-seated chopperand buckled up; patching dreamsin the poet's imaginationClick… click… murmured the cameras around meShrieks of delight blew away all fears...The pilot latched the doorHanding over wads of cotton To stuff into our earsBreathing the blue smokeThe behemoth chopperLumbered into thin air....Soon, we were kissing peacock-necked clouds,the shy mists, rainbows…unknown n unknowablesThe land below was breath takingThe low, blazing, ruby sunMelting into the shadow poolsCreated an ethereal appearance...Each miniature house and treehamlets, hills and waterways, Paddies, bridges....Stretching long on dewy groundWas ...
panchalibolchi...
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  July 14, 2013, 3:18 pm
At night,A lizard comes out, sweeps away with a mighty whoosh dashing me into tumult.I lie quietly... keep watching himfloating around like a spider man;I peer into its eyesBreathtaking...alluring...shifting, searching ceaselessly- A typical behavior of the hunterDreaming of food before the dawn tears;It's lolling eyes finding nothing,tears me instead...I cringe; the wayward lizardLays supine...in tactile stillness?An obscure fear grips memy bangles jingle- the lizard darts outwith merest hiss, it drifts seeking its prey...A modest dragonfly- as pale as meimmersed in playing hide and seekSteeps its flight and floats past himMoonlight spills on the dragonfly stuck to the c...
panchalibolchi...
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  July 5, 2013, 5:37 pm
Dressed To Kill‘Life’s not a piece of cake’, women!So in the lanes, when you walk alone-Some ‘chip of the old blocks’Chase you, scare you, and blast your wombSuch loathing lacerates, drips your heartLees of lust push you down Burying sins of insouciance stifle your guts...Rape is, an expression of men's dominance...so,‘Sow your oats, reap a rich harvest’The more bloody; the bloodier treats!Prevent future humiliation and crime,Swear never to get violated again!Ah, when men like man-eaters thrive and stall.. sort yourself            Between moments of despair and action                        Silence those sly hypocrites!!                ...
panchalibolchi...
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  June 24, 2013, 3:18 am
A Bungalow, where we spent some memorable years ....Good phases are too good to lastWhen everything seems smooth; and you thinkLife is rollicking as ever; the eclipse beginsLife moves on an eternal flux; the ritual transfersIn government jobs come like shooting stars in rhythm with timeWe stand at an edge and breathe in… the burdenOf dissatisfaction; the weight we carry from the last stationIs love, ….ripened through shreds of memoriesClosing our minds to the old walls- we turn our face awayFriends wave at us, as porters take our belongings atop a truck…The periodicity of transfers and postingsReduces home to being a mere appendage…Mind slips into a speculative mood; thought of new h...
panchalibolchi...
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  June 14, 2013, 1:27 am
My take on 7x7x7x7 Writing Prompt!!Grab the 7th book from your bookshelf.Open it up to page 7.Pinpoint the 7th sentence on the page.Begin a poem/a piece of prose that begins with that sentenceLimit it in length to 7 lines/7 sentences.The 7th book on my shelf is...Arranged Marriage by Chitra Banerjee Devikarni...'....it made my eyes water'...She was lying on the bed, with swollen feet propped on a pillow --perhaps, this was her karma, I thought.'She should go now...', I muttered, but immediately plucked out the evil thought out of my mind.As advised by the Doctor, I pressed a poultice of warm salt on her swollen belly. She tried lifting her hand to touch my head, but, it required immense bal...
panchalibolchi...
Tag :Fiction
  June 13, 2013, 4:41 pm
In a big city, the green seems a mythUgly buildings tremble through variegated shadowsFlash of synthetic colors sparkle and fadeShutting out the sky in a gritty mass…Amidst the menacing shadows of concrete jungleUntamed blooms sometimes bow and move aside---live on till they thrive on.Likewise one morning,Nature came to my windowsillClapped her hands, danced and ran away; I walked to the window, peered outA measureless wet expanseHad always been there; butToday its vibes floated outUrging me to meander in its streamI was awe-struck…a dozen of mud-bloomed lotus flowersNaked, vulnerable, full of grace peeped one by oneI ran up to the pond, dipped my feet in; pushed a frondCreating a ripple...
panchalibolchi...
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  June 12, 2013, 5:16 pm
What is the secret of writing??? Why do writers write? Many literary writers anchored writing to their daily routines. And yet, the answer remained elusive and ever-changing… Real writers are those who want to write, need to write, have to write…they must write; and they need no reason to write!!!I find it difficult to believe that I'm something close to a writer; but this hasn't stopped me from dreaming…or blogging.My reason for writing is mainly neurotic, I suspect: I am never really comfortable speaking about my emotions, so writing allows me to give shape to my emotions –when  there’s an inexplicable need to share my fantasies, I use writing as a particular medium-the routine ...
panchalibolchi...
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  June 8, 2013, 2:48 pm
A little girl Came barefooted to my sideUrged me to tell a storyWith a gentle smile;I took her walking hand in handNo-not to a prince or princess’s fairylandBut, addressed a subjectThat’s often unrecognizedWhen friends drift apart,  Wounds imbibe  It's generally ‘fight’ or ‘flight’ in sightchoose the latter; save yourself from a sorry plightAll too soon, you’ll get out of the hay No explanation necessary for god's sake ….If despite all, a relation doesn't clickPack your bags; and see a flickDab your wounds with a gauzerid unwanted gloom- and never pause?Brevity is the soul of all witWhen it’s finally time- say ‘goodbye’ and drift…wait for a new dawn,...
panchalibolchi...
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  May 29, 2013, 9:40 pm
Treading through the half-lit forestI stumble upon a drizzle of brilliance       dancing indolently to the rhythms of the sun-beamsA lucent vertical wall grows-knowing that no growing is death...it's sensibilities tingle, riddle my nervesClear moments are short....  more mirrors form...stand still for sometime, but dabble againenergizing every inch of the forest-floor-- I walk onSilence enters, beyond the nooks, seeking its way         And...my mind gently surrenders to a new calmThe sun dips....in slow watchful cycleGreen leaves peering out, shiver in twilight .. each leaf nurturing a sly dewdrop gives it allAh, every life needs a borrowed life to live...               Fe...
panchalibolchi...
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  May 27, 2013, 1:38 am
‘I am writing a Tribute to Mom in association with Parentous.comThe moment I read the above line, I nodded and decided to dive into my family pond. The environment of my home wasbuilt on principles derived from traditional values nurtured through ages of a Bengali society. Like every Bengali home, my upbringing was also designed to promote performing arts along with formal academics.My mother was not formally trained in music,but, singing came to her naturally. The sheer grandeur of ragas, or the sublime beauty of thumri, dadra, alaap mesmerized her deeply. She had a sweet, melodious voice, so she could sing light classical songs quite effortlessly. She started my informal music training...
panchalibolchi...
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  May 19, 2013, 11:19 pm
The little angel looks around,walks making music throughanklets tied to her bony anklesI sit in the car, impatient at a traffic lightIn scorching heat, rivulets of sweat rundown my spine; andsuddenly her little hands stick on  the window of my carI shrink back...black, beady eyes stare at meAnd I see the horror in those eyes for the first timeInnocent face breaks into a smileshowing dirges of povertyHuh- a pride of father's harvest....burns on!She cups her hand, grubby with dirt and asks for almsWhy! you scum of the society, I say to myselfA voice whispers in my head....Why blame a child with colors so strong?Cowering beneath a monstrous ego,I succeed in thinking unconventionally....I t...
panchalibolchi...
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  May 17, 2013, 8:50 pm
My Baby thirty years back...!Some vital hours elapsed under ecstasies of timeDays metamorphosed capturing transience of mothering Time vanished before I realized--and todaywhen I have nothing to occupy on a long unpromising SundayI look everywhere for something of you, my girl..Heaps of sounds and smells of memory returnthere's no word that can fit this exhilarating feeling-Ask me the price of mother's yearning-its priceless!!Ah, a million thoughts roll back as I think of you and... flash forward crimson smiles ..Pausing a breath or two I often ask: 'Where's my little girl?'I protected you from rain, sun, hailstorms and shocksYou gained years, grew unflapping wings---sought freedomBut, we...
panchalibolchi...
Tag :Mother's Day Poem
  May 13, 2013, 12:53 am
The shadows lengthenedSky turned pale; I looked onThere was charm even on a sinking faceLynched by cancer- a life pledged, to be more awareMore tolerant, and more responsible, more lovingAwake with unsuspected powers; orMay be with the visions of terminal horrorsLovely as a flower… she was witheringThe smell of medicines gave me chronic insomniaAll I could do was write poetry all nightThe muscles of the mind picked up power Soaking emotional excesses...Poems of the long road, unsteady nightsHealed the weight of the restless hours...I’m happy that I've taken a stab at writing poetry. I write poems to heal myself. The above poem has reference to my personal experience with my mother-i...
panchalibolchi...
Tag :poets united;
  May 9, 2013, 2:44 am
This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 39; the thirty-ninth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "Break"It was 1.00 am, and Monica was still wide awake. She was traveling to Mumbai. The light was eerie; blue-mysterious shadows were hovering here and there in the coupe-- she sat up, folding her legs beneath her, took out her appointment letter and heaved a sigh….  She got a big break in acting; but, it was for a X-rated movie! Premonitory shivers tickled her arms…Slut! The word came in her mind, and startled her into silence…Her...
panchalibolchi...
Tag :Contest; Bat; Short story
  May 5, 2013, 11:42 pm
This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 39; the thirty-ninth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "Break"It was 1.00 am, and Monica was still wide awake. She was traveling to Mumbai. The light was eerie; blue-mysterious shadows were hovering here and there in the coupe-- she sat up, folding her legs beneath her, took out her appointment letter and heaved a sigh….  She got a big break in acting; but, it was for a X-rated movie! Premonitory shivers tickled her arms…Slut! The word came in her mind, and startled her into s...
panchalibolchi...
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  May 5, 2013, 11:42 pm
The April sun squeezeLike an orange in my glassI sip the fire, drink…diving into its depths Dribble bitter-spittle into my mouth- one last gulpSlowly turn around.. the dark silhouettes gently start eroding, heavy clouds droop--- I invite them Just then, I see a streak of blue -ah, a kingfisher!Bright bird, with swift blue wings gleam outA thread connects its heart to my head- weaves a new hopeAll begins- where all appears to end-  uproots turbulenceThere's a fire in my soul reasoning all the time It struggles to sublimate repressions so that I burn beautifullyand then waver and wane according to my own mood swingsSince color has such an impact on mood, it's important that we surround ...
panchalibolchi...
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  May 3, 2013, 12:45 am
Ipshita Ray Chakraverti--Good Witch! My conscience has served me steadfastlyChronicling true..  once it lifted me to the inaccessible peaktapping the mystic.On a November afternoonagainst the prognosticated sunMy conscience coaxed me to seeing somethingbeyond the point of consciousness and I loved drowning in it- the Wiccan way...The vulnerable me--- believed the dark theories of the WiccaWatched her in awe...O' to feel and be felt was a complete bliss.The Wicca-- feeding tribute to the supernaturalsinstilled little seeds of desire in me..With a penitent heart implantedenergy- cooling my nerves; and Suddenly everything seemed so satisfying Words such as 'infinite' 'eternal'annihi...
panchalibolchi...
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  May 2, 2013, 2:53 am
Life puzzles and fuzzeswhen Love is misusedThe broken heartSwallowing layers and layers of voidCreates a vault of bigger abyss!And the world ceases---all appears to end.But,.... life begins againLike stars that rise when the other has set--- life beckons with a smile once againThe germ of life is hidden in void-pick the seed, transplant it; and climb out of the abyss!!Life's brief; it's meaning brieferSometimes... love wins...else, frees all tiesBut, life moves on ...and livesHence, gripping the time in handsone must must never sink-Life puddles have no depthSoothe the crazy pulse of hate...re-shape life.Thrust yourself forward...the race is long!Let the darkness leaveRise...when all that's...
panchalibolchi...
Tag :poets united;
  April 24, 2013, 3:55 pm
As the month of April dawns-A heavy-lidded Suncowers in the cornerThe heatwave wraps the daystilling every moment,hindering every thought and breatha little everyday..The fields lie brown and bakedTufts of paddy splay outlike dried flowers; theycrackle even if you look at themExhaustion and fear line every face, especially animals at every stepThe monstrous heatwave strangles harder and harder....in weariness life liveswith fear that weighs morethan the bonesThe worst fear of all:What if, this excruciating heatwavenever ends!Written for http://dversepoets.com/ MONSTERShared with http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.in/...
panchalibolchi...
Tag :dverse; Poets United
  April 14, 2013, 1:09 pm
This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 38; the thirty-eighth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "The Woman on Platform Number 10"The Woman on Platform Number 10… The train was slowing down. Dusk was about to fall, streaks of golden hues of the setting sun were still clinging onto the platform's edge. It was a junction station, now almost deserted, preternaturally still in the yellowing light.Slowly, the train ground to a halt. I craned my neck, trying to read the station’s name but the letters were barely visible. I saw a very att...
panchalibolchi...
Tag :Contest; Bat; Short story
  April 7, 2013, 11:56 pm
ASCENT--Rose tingeing summitBearing the rainbow of hopeAn alpinist’s treatClimbing cliff demandsAudacious plans; ambitionSeeks benedictionWritten for Haiku Heights: april-a2z-heights-day-01-ASCENTFlighty butterfliesTake garden under its wingsDrizzle of dancersWith passion-tipped wingsBurning in the morning's flameFulfills her moon-dreamsHer breathing quickensLighting lilies of prairieNectar in bellyWritten for Haiku Heights:  April-a2z-heights-Day-02-Butterfly...
panchalibolchi...
Tag :Haiku Heights;
  April 2, 2013, 1:26 pm
..Every afternoonSeated in the afternoon shadeAlice's mind was stimulatedthrough fantasy tales Distant wonderlands- acutely unreal--without history, surreptiously draped her heartLike songs of dreams, the mysterious talesLeft her spirit volatile and kaleidoscopic In sleep...re-constructing conjured up imagesShe swept across many sleeping townsBrushed past many whispering windowsKissed many magical herbs, shrubs, insects, birds Sunlit gardens full of marauding parrots, squirrels and animalsRaided her wild  heartAnd then..One day, in a transient dream, A white rabbit came with a timepieceand took her through a time machineDestiny!Alice following the crazy Bunny..., Swooped into the magic...
panchalibolchi...
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  April 1, 2013, 2:36 pm
India is in the midst of a hot summer and the trees are ablaze with the colors of the season. Sharing with you the glory of Amaltas, the Golden Flower Tree (laburnum tree) I roll over on my stomach facing the gardenkick up my legs...musingMy garden unfolds like a painting...Heavy, drooping tassels of AmaltasSwinging in shades of molten gold,  reign among tropical livesteasing the surrounding unceremoniously.In heat, sweat and dust- sine die The smallest, youngest budShivering in summer’s panicslip under the flower-laden branches,The suffocation of flowerdelves into the depths of my soul nudges me---to act and be felt.Chased by love and passion, I rush Cup the blight bud in my palm...
panchalibolchi...
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  March 30, 2013, 2:55 am
Blown off to the skyLi'l squares, flying side by sideRainbow in motionFlirting with rain-cloudsDreams marinated in stringsRide upon the windTreading in snail's paceIgnoring the monsoon rainShuffling kites stir dreamsThis Haiku is shared with Carpe Diem - Tako (kite)....
panchalibolchi...
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  March 29, 2013, 12:28 am
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