The Night is Long

The night is long

A collection of poems by

Aritra Sarkar

-    CONTENTS –

We shall meet again

Crossroad of Peace

Arshia, the Heavenly

The Secret

Déjà Vu

Dark Paradise

The day I became someone

As night falls

Legion

Inertial minds

The Thinker

Blackboard

Death Lane

Shortened My Skills?

String Theory!

Time thou heal

The butterfly

Breathless

To the shore

Said Krishna

Spheres of Brain and Earth

Zephyr Castle

Geeks of Physics

Pages from the Owl’s Diary

Sonnet of Love

- We shall meet again -

Stars shining bright, on the cold moonlit night,

On the lamp-post, an owl perched.

Stars shining bright, on the cold moonlit night,

By the window I, lost in my thoughts.

How it began, on a hot, sunny day,

We both met, with our destiny ahead.

Did we realize? Did we know?

A day slowly comes, and swiftly goes.

True so the saying that our elders say,

A moment is strong enough, to turn your way.

Perhaps we didn’t, for it passed,

Six long years, yet, it must!

Again came a day, sunny true,

For it lit the path, shrouded in gloom.

We laughed, we talked, we cared,

More than any soul could,

But the day drew nearer,

Before ‘Good-Bye’ be told.

Swollen eyes and melancholic day,

Sleepless nights and haunting grey,

Yes, we did bear it all, with patient suffering,

For heard we have people say –

A life without love is of no better,

Than a falcon devoid its wings.

Though every moment apart,

Pains a thousand deaths over,

But love, they say, is everlasting,

So why do we fear?

At the end of each tunnel,

Shines a brilliant light,

So must hope burn,

In cloud’s silver lining.

We shall meet again, friend,

Tomorrow or the day that follows.

And this time, we will make it sure,

We would stay together, through highs and lows.

As of now that’s all I can say,

Turn to the heavens, whisper and pray.

Stars shining bright, on the cold moonlit night,

The owl flew towards the sky.

Stars shining bright, on the cold moonlit night,

By the window, a drop trickles down my eye.

- Crossroad of Peace -

On the track so perfect,

                                                            All was going through,

But it makes me ponder,

                                                            Over self-created blues.

How long will it last?

                                                            As the soothing zephyr blew.

The pole-star over the sky,

                                                            The joys of the crew.

Riding over marshy lands,

                                                            Have we painfully come.

And now we are happy,

                                                            We have found our one.

Yet when the war seems over,

                                                            The foe falls down.

A notion makes me ponder,

                                                            Makes my mind frown.

As the wind calms down,

                                                            Before the cruel storm plunders.

Is this peace the same,

                                                            The birth-child of blunder?

Will all the joys dissolve,

                                                            Before its even tasted?

Will everything break apart,

                                                            All the love be wasted?

Or perhaps it is the jolly season,

                                                            An amorous spring’s dawn.

The laughter of children,

                                                            A passionate lover’s song.

A blessing from the One,

                                                            Above us all.

A prayer to us answered,

                                                            A lonely heart’s call.

This crossroad of peace,

                                                            Haunted me day and night.

Until I found the answer,

Lies in my inner sight.

Love is not given,

                                                            For people to lose.

Two lines answers it all,

                                                            Now it’s so easy to choose.

Peace may come and go,

                                                            That is the way of life.

But my love for her remains,

                                                            Till the end of time.              

- Arshia, the Heavenly -

It was a night, a cold dark night;

And I was sitting under the Tree.

Lost in thoughts, of the heaven above;

When an angel appeared before me.

An illusion thought I, seeing her silver form,

But then she came nearer, and sat beside….

“The Knowledge you seek, from the future and past,

An attempt you make, far and wide,

For it is as vast, as the skies above,

And you are but one, inside it.

What you want, is the water in a jug,

Being a drop among it.”

I replied to the lass in front of me,

            in a solemn tone;

“Can a drop be found floating alone,

            when the water is up to the brim?

Not in the jug, no more a drop,

            I am the Universe in it….

But pray me, Thee power unknown,

            why do you seek me?

And come to me in Thy gracious form,

            and argue about being free.”

I am the Power, you seek all over;

The knowledge, in Everything you see.

I am she, who sees all from above;

The controller, of all your beings.

I am You and You are Me;

And together, we are Arshia – the Heavenly.

- The Secret -

The scent of old paper – the thoughts, in his mind;

The inkpot – the mahogany table, he writes on;

The open window – the cold breeze, blowing by;

The overcast sky – the cloudy mood, my Lord all alone….

It was then he took me up,

            And held me hand by hand.

A refreshing bath, in the near blue tub,

            My spirits refilled up again.

The paper I toughed, and his thoughts flowed,

            I, his humble servant.

The silent prayer, the golden emote,

            Three little words, scribbled then.

And at the end, not all is the same,

            When the name was stamped on.

Whisper I shouldn’t, for it’s a secret,

            Between me and my Lord…

The scent of old paper – the thoughts, in his mind;

The inkpot – the mahogany table, he writes on;

The open window – the cold breeze, blowing by;

The overcast sky – the cloudy mood, and the letter of my Lord….

- Déjà Vu -

Golden moments, of the past,

            don’t say goodbye to my heart.

Come and go, as if in a déjà vu,

            but walk with me in this desert loo.

For memories are rare, like a true pearl,

            making each takes, a thousand furl.

And as the old clock, ticks away,

will you be there for a longer stay?

Golden moments, of the past,

            don’t say goodbye to my heart.

Miles away from home, I reside,

            be my hut, on the riverside.

I wake up each morn., to your smiling face,

            you take me through the day – the tough bull race.

When the cloud of blues overcast the sky,

            you bring a flicker, a joy for a while.

Golden moments, of the past,

            don’t say goodbye, to my heart.

Serving hot tea, to the pensive head,

            giving water, to the thirsty sage.

Hope is the friend, you remind us of,

            the future is the past, we’re about to hop.

Golden moments, come back I pray,

            “Yes, I will”, is all you would say.

- Dark Paradise -

My hands stretched out to the void,

The trembling confused voice of mine,

“Where are You, Oh Lord!”

Where is the brilliance of Thy Paradise!

Stumbling over hidden paths,

Falling on the rough terrain,

“Which Eden have I come to Oh Lord?”

Where is your guiding lamp?

Where is the shine of Thy silver form?”

It is then I feel a touch,

A flock of people approaching me,

Near they come, and whisper forth –

“Even the smallest light shines in the darkness.”

They could see me, but not I,

What mystery of Elysian have I stepped on?

The darkness reveals, but my friends,

Then a voice speaks up –

“My child, I am within”.

- The day I became someone -

Born in the rainy month; on my mother’s lap,

Living among the gulmohur trees, and the district lanes,

A unique name, a unique love – from my close mates –

Am I not someone, rather than anyone?

But to the city I had to go, leaving them all,

To become someone and not just anyone.

New life, new home, new school – and I among them,

Close friends and old games – time passes by.

In the heart blooms a maiden’s love (forever may it be)

Am I not someone, rather than anyone?

Yet away from home, I had to go, a silent goodbye said,

To become someone and not just anyone.

Are we not unique in ourselves?

Do we need to stretch, to colour in the brightest?

Cannot the path we are in lead us to glory?

Do we need to change at every crossroads, again and again?

Just be as you are, you are only One –

You are someone, not anyone among everyone.

- As night falls -

As night falls; the day ends,

            Apollo moves on, on his tour ahead.

The rooks return; the restful homecoming,

            A place of comfort, for each waiting.

As the horizon’s lamp, fades with our drying sweat,

            I cross one more day, before we meet again.

With the clock’s ticking; twilight falls,

            Physical pains dissolve, mental ones evolve.

Thoughts over the long wait; the daily dose,

            Breathing hard, I brood on.

Ponder over the things – to be done,

            Once the Sun brings the gleeful dawn.

The eternal hug; the feeling of belonging,

            Still to wait, before it’s felt.

The work to be finished; the target hit,

            For which the bow, I have drawn.

- Legion -

We are seven , as the dream says,

We are together, forever and always…

Nemo, the youngest; the love, the song,

Cry and laughter, goes all along…

Kamael, the brother, eldest in thought,

For many a notion, he ponders well on…

Then it’s Arshia, the heavenly lass,

A sister true, with all she has…

Her elder brother; Aditya, the brave,

A hero with his sword, a battle he craves…

Comes next Ajax, as it has been seen,

Jovial and quick, the pack’s scout man…

Last but not the least, comes dear Andromeda,

Friend, sister and a true warrior…

Me the eldest, the top of the tier,

The legion of siblings; of Gaia and Brahma…

- Inertial minds -

On the cot, in the lawn – our Master lies;

the warm sunrays – the scent of betel juice –

(satisfied and proud)

his followers swatting in a circle around…

“Hindusthan, our motherland, our nation is she…”

glorious and rich – as the Puranas read –

all ears to the Master…

(live long past glory! )

“A country of heritage; culture and old age hermitage – “

“Is there a match! – does any other country has! “

(half its populace below poverty line)

shouts all men with pride…

“Find another land, with greener crops; milk and honey flowing! “

“No there isn’t anywhere in this sphere, a harder working farmer “

(still not a square meal a day! )

it’s our pride, it’s India…

“Indigenous is ourselves – from wheat to missiles…”

“Our spotted cows n powerful buffaloes –

Why use HYV and tractors!!? “

(we are Us, always in the opposite path! )

Educated we are, in suits and boots; ties hanging straight…

the head bows down – before the rich and renown

(backward are we still?! )

A salaam to our Master

India – my motherland – rise high n tall,

Wake up, and show ‘em all.

Our skill and strength, in all we do,

We would ne’r lag behind the crew.

We would lead the World in the days to come,

Heritage and Advances, would go all along.

- The Thinker -

The spring’s dawn, the cuckoo call,

The peacock’s feather, the prayer hall;

The glorious sunrise, of a bright sunny day,

The dark black clouds, over the moistened bay.

The vagabond and the beggar, on the street,

The office workers, speeding past;

The man who lost, his only way,

The beggar who earns, a penny a day.

The arena of the hall, the chandelier,

The large cozy sofas, all the grandeur;

The jingle of lights, of food and money,

The rich and well-fed, rules the day.

The fashion parade, the movie stars,

The gardener, in his backdoor lawn;

The hobbies each have, in this great big world,

The book read, and the songs sung.

In a room, The Thinker stays,

The past, the future – the forgotten present;

Thoughts random, do come and die,

The storm, the zephyr, quite again.

- Blackboard -

Cometh knowledge onto thee,

            Cometh knowledge, to you, through me.

The dust, the cloud, the light, the lines,

            The letters scribbled on –

An intelligent face, among all dreamy gaze,

            A mirror to all, am I.

The King of the class, the pride, the lust –

The battlefield where wars are fought,

                                    Me the hero, in the Trojan scenario,

            On the giant book of historic thoughts.

Projectors and whiteboards, new in the trade,

Smart may be they, than me,

                                    Think ‘wice err you speak, as they are –

            Yet far less efficient.

Find me Oxbridge, to the remotest hamlet,

            A slate my grandson be.

Professors and artists, lessons and activities,

            Flow all to you, through me.

I am the board, black inside out,

            The bearer of all these fame.

- Death Lane -

A quite lane – in the darkness of the night,

A rat on his search – in the city bins.

                                    Shadows of the building – falling on each other,

                                                A kite above hovering, its sharp eyes following.

                                    The shadow of two tentacles – by the Moon above,

                                                A cockroach running up the building wall.

                                    The rat’s eyes shift – on the movement at hand,

                                                It rushes toward the prey!

                                    Over the wastes from the nearby kitchens,

                                                Tripping but swift, at its target ahead.

                                    Sensed in the radar, of the kite above –

                                                A black body in a black lane…

                                    Zooms and swoops down into the walls,

                                                May God save you my friend!

                                    Comes there then, another animal – Human as we call,

                                                Ahead in the game, of brutality and shame – dacoit in pair.

                                    Their mission a secret, for none knows it yet –

                                                Out comes the sharp, shining daggers!

                                    Must they end, the life, the man,

                                                Who held them in court, in jail.

                                    The cockroach, the rat, the kite and all- the creatures of the night,

                                                Watch and bow their heads in ‘hail’ –

                                                            To the King of the Death Lane.

- Shortened My Skills? -

Short Messaging Service, the dove of the day,

Have you shortened my skills, or augmented?

For I can type, a message without a glance,

Only ten buttons need I, for letters and call.

T9 no longer a choice for youth,

Oxford and Cambridge? Slower than sloth!

Tap four thrice, get an ‘I’,

Six ones and three twice, ‘Me’ on the screen!

Why write ‘me’ when ‘m’ will do?

Forget the lexicon, its owlish hoot.

‘TC’ no longer a transfer certificate,

A loved wish, a ‘take care’, its meaning new.

Numbers and letters mix to form,

A porridge, a soup – whatever you may call.

‘4m’, ‘4gt’, ‘4gv’, ‘n8’ – a complete mix,

The greatest choice, in this business.

Comes confusion over ‘ntyr’,

‘Not your’ or ‘Entire’? Thinks the receiver.

Yet skipping the vowels,

Hebrew may it be, or Greek!

The reader reads and gets,

Every bit of it!           

- String Theory! -

Strings and threads,

                        straight and round,

Dancing to the tune,

                        Mother Nature’s sound.

A World so wide,

                        round and curled,

Have ye eleven floors?

                        So we heard!

Jump and turn,

                        to the beats,

Creating us,

                        from each bits.

           

Ample energy,

                        do ye make,

Gravity too,

                        in all the mass.

           

Slip you can,

                        from slice to slice,

Each a wonderland,

                        of Alice.

           

Mix and match,

                        sing and dance,

To the call,

                        of rhythm divine.

           

Strings and thread,

                        straight and round,

Dancing to the tune,

                        Mother Nature’s sound.

               

- Time thou heal -

There was a time,

                        a storm followed a thunder,

A shower followed a storm,

                        drought and flood all along.

           

There was a time,

                        the shining sunflower fields,

Drooped their heads in pain,

                        over the lost day.

           

Eons have passed,

                        but only a while,

When the smiling face frowned,

                        every single night.

           

Time thou heal,

                        thou make amends,

For none so better,

                        every now and then.

           

Casting the boredom,

                        of the sorrow,

You bring joy,

                        before we know.

           

Dilute a fear,

                        none can best,

Time thou art,

                        a healer above rest.

           

               

- The butterfly -

To the blue horizon with glee, I flutter.

All the deserts bathe in the ocean’s water.

Before all the greens die of from the Earth.

A guide to them, I, in Ambrosia’s search.

Flying over the city blocks, over gulmohur covered lanes.

Spraying paint over the city’s heart and veins.

Time’s calling me to change it all.

The poetry of summer, winter and fall.

- Breathless -

Stopped the hands, of the clock,

Stopped my breadth, on the top.

Why did you?

           

Hours to go, before I go,

Hours to come and pass by.

Why is it so?

           

Just a moment, seems so long,

Just a week, an year long.

Why! Man! Why?

           

Restless am I, mind wandering,

Restful slumber, I craving.

When shall it be!

           

Faster faster, hours run.

Faster still, I pray thee.

Hands and legs of the clock,

Run fast and make me free.

- To the shore -

Why my mind cries?

Only cries…

When the golden and silver lights,

            Shelters itself in the riverside.

As the zephyr blows,

            The brown yacht’s sails flows,

Dancing on the waves’ rhythm,

            It comes to the glittering shore.

Ahoy boatman! Take me with you,

            In this dark quite night.

In this cold season...Take me to your land,

            Far, far away…

Oarsman, where’s your tow?

            Where’s your song, as you row?

Your land void of electricity,

            World without verbosity.

All you have, in land and heart,

            Peace, calmness and serenity…

A place without grandiloquence,

            Dipped in the balm of tranquility…

My heart dost cry,

            but my soul does not break,

Stays in my bosom,

            satisfaction from the trance effect.

Back in my World,

            Dreams of man,

Like a weevil-eaten oar,

            Crushed and destroyed each day.

- Said Krishna -

Said Krishna, Lord of Heaven and Earth –

Defeat those who oppose you,

Crush those who stop you.

Carry thy flag where ever you go,

Mint coins for high and low.

Speak aloud in your favor,

A lie or half doesn’t matter.

Take advantage of every situation,

It’s a game – ruling the nation.

Head and heart not so dear,

Use your muscles against your fear.

And thus followed our politicians!

- Spheres of Brain and Earth -

I watched the backhoe digging by,

on a lazy summer noon.

The wheels of change whispered to me,

making merry to doom.

Towers of ambition mankind harbours,

makes not no natural wonders,

to his list of fame.

The hues of green lost in shade,

as the Sphere rolls ahead.

The season of spring hides in a glass frame,

the canary quite again.

The modern Noah builds his ark,

to save mankind, not all,

in a distance the last lion’s roar.

A thought know we, but safely not,

causes us to slip a rung.

‘Stones under the grass cover,

destroys when on top.’

Our palaces our dreams shall come true,

if Nature shall bleed dearly too,

this the Sphere quietly knew.

- Zephyr Castle -

In the horizons of the sphere,

            lies the kingdom of Zephyr,

ruled by the humble Prince Alexander.

The Sun forgets the sense of time,

            from dusk to dawn it rolls,

along the glistering shores.

The birds sing in glory of the Lord,

            brave, noble and calm,

In the most sweet of the sound.

The minister in charge, for when the Prince’s far,

            the squirrel Oracle,

for those who had council knows his brilliance.

The castle of stones, red, white and gold,

            curtains purple and silver,

bursts into flame on the arrival of the moon.

Forest of pride, lion’s roar, unicorn’s stride,

            the aegis of the eagle,

the stream and waterfall’s bubbling treble.

Andromeda, the Princess, the royal sister,

            watches over the law and affair,

for none’s been so true, wise and clever.

May the land prosper for eons to come,

            where milk and honey flows yearlong,

In glory of Prince Alexander of Zephyr.

- Geeks of Physics -

(Harsh)

A cycle with decreasing frequency..

Is there a problem with efficiency?

What do you guess my friend?

For me it’s a usual trend.

(Aritra)

Friction thou art brave

Stagnation you always crave..

A battle in thy border causes you to roar...

"Charge" thou yell like the musketeers four...

(Harsh)

No baby, please do not stall.

Non-linearity will always fall.

Be a constant like a pole.

I love you when you are sole.

(Aritra)

A pole so true as said by you,

relativity and uncertainty clouds it too.

Sole a soul exists yet not,

positive and negative couples livelong.

(Harsh)

O' then Newton why don't you repel?

Did you use some kind of a spell?

Einstein, even you didn't make that true

Did this problem undid you too?

(Aritra)

A world so strangely different,

of friends named G and EM,

Yet a party they throw to all,

Universe, its court decked for ball.

(Harsh)

I see GEM which shines so bright

Most of which eyes can't sight

why things should be so complicated?

Makes me and my friends frustrated.

(Aritra)

To see the GEM, I have no wit nor GUT,

WIMP am I as my friends would call,

As Sir Plank puts in his words,

interact to learn the particle nature.

(Harsh)

Aye, particle indeed true

But still without the clue

Again things did betray

of dual nature, what you say?

(Aritra)

Indeed a mix, ethereal and earthen,

Light races ahead yet so sane,

Comes near another of speed so same,

"G-Waves" as we would have it famed.

- Pages from the Owl’s Diary -

Like the mountain's stare, as the moon waxes and wanes,

Nor compassion, not mirth, has a corner in his place.

Work, work and work alone, ambition drive the chains,

Who can live forever, like a statue as a reflection be?

Of robots and rockets cloud his dreams, alas no lass it is,

Vows false hold them tight, as a gleaming medallion's beam.

For the World bows to man with a pocket and someone to dig the hole,

Is it fade the ledge dark and deep, betwixt the mountain and the shore.

Though the view lay clear in sight, avoid it safer be,

For the path trod upon worth a mile, an aeon more of flea.

Love a drug, poisoned senses, where reasons kill reasons,

A dream comes to the hands of bane, the shriek of despair flee.

Studies he did, through his oriel true, though in quietness and lone,

Forgot nature makes a dove's mate, a dove not an owl.

Yet like a battle fierce, the forces of dote unleashed,

Victor in effort, like the arrogant king, the joyful coffers fill.

Then as the days rolled by, years on a three be,

The flash of light darkens the mind, the clarity unseen.

Live they might, for a family and a child, the cycle of earth to roll,

Yet to science a soul devout, needs not the societal stronghold.

Wired relation knotted to fire, distance before a grip,

From black to white, a change thought she, would herald cupid again.

Yet stains to stay once there, the hammered sculpture’s fail,

In logic build, the skeleton of the seer, emotions pierce not it.

Of sands apart in glass or path, destiny looks so far,

Will the sky wear the colour, the hue of her thought?

With soldiers surrounding the castle, the maiden in distress,

The rider rides in canopy wide, where far less seems at peril.

As in his notebook this scribbled hard, dampens through the night,

The calls of joy, subdued to be soon, yet heralds the morning light.

Dried tears elated becomes, the candle lit again,

Closing the book, future continues, though mysteries of yin and yang.

- Sonnet of Love -

The winds may blow,

as hard it may,

The flood washes away..

..the last morsel

The clouds gather

and curtains the light,

yet we shall hold on,

to where we belong.

The day was long,

like a gleeful song.

Fun so tired..

..smile attired

As the moon gleams,

and sings her lullaby,

to my feathery bed,

cozily I retire..

..and beside me,

its you whom I desire.

For all the world,

laid to waste.

Evil roams..

..unveiled and naked

Still there exist

a relation so sacred,

kissed by blessing

and not hatred.

A blessing so true,

the heavens envy.

Of love that bathe,

in God's pure glory.

Its like a bit of sunshine,

amidst the clouds.

Like and oasis in sight,

among desert dunes.

Hold on we would,

through thick and thin.

Through thorns yet unseen..

..we walk hand in hand.