Slave

Last night, as usual I was alone and thinking nothingness.

I couldn’t find my cell phone. I was wondering how to get up in the morning for duty as my cell phone is my only alarm clock (calendar, secretary, postman, en all after my laptop).

I have a landline, but TO MY UTTER SURPRISE I don’t even remember my own cell number, let alone others. So ringing up to find where it is, is also out of question. I tried the net if some friend is online I can ask him to give me a call (so that I can trace my mobile), but no one was there. Then the server speed got down.

After a while light went off.

I was all alone in the dark, just helpless and not knowing if I could join my duty on time for next day or not.

Oh my god, I seem I stopped thinking also

Take off ,Phase 2: continues :Rebel without a reason

Rebel without a reason

Rebellion is on
Without weaponry
Without comrades
For no reasons
Or accreditation;
No one is oppressed
Or the oppressor.
Only the rebellion is on.

I hear the roars of rebel within, against the system we don’t like to accept

This phase discusses that part.

Few go for a revolution that deviated form its path

Few become REBEL WITHOUT A REASON

Jatra Phase 2 -Take off in a Nectarous Evening

Nectarous Evenings

A Nectarous evening

Satan worshipers were our hearts.

Accompanied by:

Roasted meat called dream..

Smoke filled whirlpool,

Deafening music!

And in rhythm-

We, the thirsty vampires.

Our destiny-

A spread cerulean body,

Brackish vein’s drinks,

Hungry denture in roasted heart.

The ecstasy of retching- after the booze.

A Poem for Jim

the man who symbolizes the affinity for booze, poetry and ecstasy of a young mind. Like that in its take off, Jatra discuseses the hidden Jim inside all youth.

Watch the video @ :

http://ishare.rediff.com/video/entertainment/jim-morrison-jatra/779780

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uz0011Qn2p4

Of Creative fiction:

As a result of fight between
Catnap & compulsion
Profession & Obsession
Egos, Dreams & Agonies friction.
Prose came for my salvation
In the form of creative fiction.
Spontaneous Unplanned, guided by compulsion.

Above my logo:artist :Dr.Hirak Das

Phase 1: Boarding in - Jatra

Faded Jeans Ideology

Each and every moments of faded jeans ideology

Over cafés, parks and 100cc bikes.

Sleepless nights on songbird’s blues.

Through the coloured spectacles

Canteen, party and evening’s blue guitar;

Bitter smoke filled time on cards

Everyday. …Every night.

Amidst them, please don’t bring up-

The stench of bland truth,

Reality of dreams, someone’s sad elegy.

They are just paper boats

Floating on the turbulent drunken river

‘This is life man, its basic appeal’!

At first it’s all fun

Phase 1 is about friend’s en all

Life seems all the very romantic here

See the video @http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GOX6TMOGB_Y

or @ http://ishare.rediff.com/video/entertainment/jatra/768254

Check In:The proposition for Jatra

The Launch

After birth – the crying

Then the slumber of forgetfulness,

Slowly its adolescence,

Thereafter comes youth.

Youth hood is none but a dream;

What after the dream?

That’s what Jatra is all about

Flight of a young mind.

Dream starts here!

Welcome to the journey

Art: Dr. Uddip Talukdar

Jatra

A Collection of Creative Fiction in Assamese (My first one)

Cover curator: Dr.Uddip Talukdar

Unknowingly Jatra has turned out to be a compilation of phases of the most striking portion of life - Youth hood.

I started writing short stories for friends en al who were not into creative line and were complaining about the metaphysical content of my plays we used to stage in mid nineties. All I wanted was to compensate for their criticism. So in the beginning my stories were funny based on day to day experience of early adolescence, I used to play with the wordings & narrative stunts only.

But as the journey progressed, and we all metamorphosed into various individuals the contents, narration & essence of our definitions changed and at the crossroads of life-jatra become my prospective view of flight of a young mind in search of exactitude.

Stories were written over last fourteen years and already published in premier Assamese literary journals like ‘Prantik, Sadin, Satsori, Jonosadharan.