My dreams till 3.04 AM

And ,just after 2.30 am
I started dreaming.
its not about the earth where i am;
it’s of a perfect world;
where the beauty of saxophone
is appreciated by beggars.

ugly burglars at deserted places,
never steal the pianos of rich men;
as they are too romantic to go places.

in my perfect world,
only letter burns;
not human hearts.

GHouls and demons have souls
not politicians.
and in there,the dj falls in love with the music;
not with the instruments.

And on the corners of dusky streets,
people smoke alphabets;
not cigar.

Then clock strikes 3.04,
and I dreamt no more.


{Originally published here }

Sky at 5.17pm

Sitting lonely at 5.17
i saw myself idle
and saw some memories
when i was teen

Low in the summer sky
i saw traces of green
and some colorful bugs
who loves to defy gravity

so both of us were lonely
and we both were bored
and i wished a change in sky
a change in my lonely hood

but sky was too lazy
to change it’s status
so i had to help myself
and i wrote all these link less paragraphs

A moment in the rain

I stared.
and, the back-lit clouds amazed me;
the dazzling sparkles
flashed, upon my eyes.

and they started falling.
keep falling,
and keep on falling.

I was aroused
by the coolness;
I became static.
I felt their shivering beauty,
across my skin.

and they were refreshing.
so refreshing;
and their freshness was breathtaking.

among strong earthy aroma,
we were sticking together like lovers.
and the heavenly love,
vaporized all over the mist.

rain stopped.

but they were never ending.
never meant to have an ending;
as the touch is ever lasting.

[Previously published on]

My november

My November

By: Rwik Mukhopadhyay


In this life full of emotions

Why can’t you forget us?

They(lawmakers) have forgiven them(a certain country)

Then why?

Why contributing in global warming,

with flaming candles !

(Now, let’s talk about a certain politician caught in scandal)

They say,

Your video is authentic.

It was November 2008,

and luckily,

‘they’ were not filming you.

And you,

The news men.

Why you always talk about nothing in particular?

You report as though you care,

But all you care is bloody trp.


on November 2008,

you needed my blood to pump your trp.

They showed,

you can handle 3 ladies at one shot.

but on bloody  November

they preferred gunshot.

They dint cover you back then.

Me,my body was burning in flashlights.

And my bed was warm

Just like yours.


mine was filled with my own blood.

Not with some whore’s poison.

And at last,

they called,

Asked me to put a towel under the door.

I rushed.

My towel tried to fill the gap

ignored by intelligence and government.

But then the door opened,

I knew it was impossible to survive,

But then I realised.

Hard nosed bullets are too hard

for my pupils…

{Dedicated to the victims of mumbai massacre. Inspired by a Indiblogger ad   }

Originally published here