Pujor Poem

O, to be Bangali, now that Pujo is nigh,

Khabar, Kapod, Kalchar is on its annual high.

Hopping all night through random Pujo pandals,

Is best use of the newly purchased Bata sandals.

Mashimas and Kakimas ask `ebar ki notun kinley’?

Resplendent, their gorgeous sarees in full display.

Mehsos and Kakus wearing panjabi and dhuti,

Crowd around stalls selling chicken rolls and frooti.

Durga sits on her pedestal, Bijoli Grill’s orders spike,

Crowds eye the chicken rolls, it's a  surgical strike. 

Mishti of course is a must, for a Pujo without sweets,

Is like wishing the troll army would write decent tweets.

Eating mangsher chop, luchi, singara and kochuri,

Girls and boys play chokher looko choori.

Evenings are for dhak with dhoonochir natch,

Nights will be for feasting with shorse diye maachh.

Pujo is not Pujo without great cultural programs,

Natok, Robindro songit et al, `sponsored' by Seagrams.

O, to be Bangali, now that Pujo is nigh,

Go pandal hopping...eat mutton chop and fish fry.

Limericks

I love limericks. They can be rude, silly and clever at the same time. 

I’m trying to get my 9 year old to write them. Here are some I wrote for her:

***

About her

She’s smart, curious and kind

Always a smile. A beautiful mind.

Loves her art. Loves her books.

Loves blackberries and trying to cook.

Stay forever young, away from this grind.

***

About her favourite stuffed animal 

My panda’s name is Po 🐼 

But nowhere does he go

He love bamboo leaves

But his laziness is my pet peeve

But I do love him so

***

She started learning about Orangutans 

Orangutans 🦧 are gentle

Their poachers make me mental

Beautiful relatives of humans

Unworthy of you, we have proven

I wish I could be more influential

***

Arguing with her about pigeons 

Pigeons, pigeons all the time 🐦 

What’s going on in this head of mine?

Why do I ignore other birds in the garden?

Dearie me, I do beg your pardon!

Tits, robins and parrots; thy I decline.

***

About her favourite character

The boy who lived said Dumbeldore 🧙‍♂️ 

Born to defeat evil Lord Voldemort

Impulsive, loyal and kind

He knew fear was all in the mind

A Hogwarts 🏰 legend forever more.

***

My son’s fairy tales 

Big bad wolf, three little pigs 🐷 

These are the story baby digs

Hansel & Gretel, Red Riding Hood

Gingerbread man, sure all good 👍 

My playlist on YouTube is so big!

***

Speaking of limericks, I was speaking to Ma yesterday and she told me the most fascinating story. My maternal grandmother’s mother (Boju’s mother) apparently was adept at writing limericks in Bangla. She got married at the age of 14. At the time, that was relatively old and hence she was a bit more educated than other girls of the time. The story goes that when she and her husband has gone to see PC Sorcar (senior) i.e. Protul Chandra Sorcar’s magic show in Calcutta. PC Sorcar had developed a new magic trick where he would ask to be blindfolded, and then ask a member of the audience volunteer to come up on the stage and write something on a blackboard which he would proceed to read out whilst still blindfolded. In this instance, my great grandmother volunteered and wrote a limerick impromptu rhyming ‘protul’ with ‘oprotul’ (unique). The magician was so moved by these five lines of rhyme that he apparently fell at her feet and went on to extol that this is what a Bangali nari should be like. My great grandfather who was typically conservative as Bengali bhadralok of the time were, took great exception to PC Sorcar touching his wife. I’m guessing this must be in the late 1940’s or 1950’s. Sadly her notebooks filled with limericks are lost with time. She has passed on the limerick bug to one of her sons - the late Brigadier Shymal Sen. Again I don’t have any from my great uncle.

Yumm Bee Yaay!

Statutory Warnings: 1. This is an original poem (for better or for verse, that is what I will call it) - and thus is not for the staunch believers in the Queen's language. 2. If you're an MBA and you take yourself seriously, do not read any further. 3. This is not (fully) autobiographical!

---

Kya?! You talking to me?
I'm an MBA from a top B-school
I know it all boss, can't you see?
Fin, Marketing, HR & Ops - it's all cool!


PowerPoint, Laptop and my Smartphone
With these toys, my skills are honed.
For hours on end I can gas... oops, speak;
Never mind, my audience thinks it’s all Greek!

Every day I must read all the pink papers,
BTW, in just 3 months I've managed to memorize Kotler!
Go on quiz me, about brand equity, derivatives, M&A’s and business capers,
Did I embarrass you? C'mon now don't sulk and be bitter...

I worship the holy trinity of M/s Buffet, Prahalad and Gekko,
WTF?! You haven't seen Wall Street? Damn right, it's worth a dekko!
I know big words and for that methinks people say I am bright,
Suits me fine, 'coz use of jargon is my birthright.

I know my strategy - my 'Brand Value', 'Vision' and 'Mission';
Though with multiple job offers in hand,
These days I am prone to the occasional indecision.
All these jobs sound so boring; maybe I'll just form a rock band. (Just kidding!)

What I care about isn't just profile and package,
I must work for top company, anything else is sacrilege!
Jet set around the world - crack deals, be jetlagged,
But make sure I’m on the evening news - my wisdom can't be gagged.

Screw that, I'll do a Sabeer Bhatia. Start my own business;
I’ll make my millions by riding the waves of Profit and Loss.
Attract the angel funds, sell out and party with finesse.
The best part - at the end of the day, I'll still be my own boss!

… Chal bohut hua, ab uth ja bhai.
Wake up lazy ass - Oi, Wake up Sid!
Stop living in the world of insane dreams and lie
With these tales of fantasy, whom do you think you kid?!


---

You were forewarned! If you want to read some more, click here...

Yet Again

Strange Words. Clouded Thoughts.
The world changes - yet again?

eMpTy Feelings. Weird Emotions.
My stomach churns - yet again.

Umpteen Hopes. Undying Aspirations.
Going to move on - yet again.

Perennial Passion. Zillion Dreams.
Make it happen - yet again.

Better life. Crystal Vision.
Time to break free - yet again!

Profuse Gratitude. Sincere Prayers.
Lord guide me - yet again...

Carpe Diem

Why do I wait? Stay up all night, worry all day?
Endlessly wonder when this motherfucking misery will end?
Oh why must sly ol' fate take its own sweet time?

It's tough traveling on a thorny road to nowhere,
And I lose the faith. Get sucked into to a spiraling pit of despair.
And yet I know, Lady Luck smiles only when she cares.

Now I am sure my dreams will prematurely die,
And my mood turn a darker shade of gray and anguish,
My soul is bitter. I curse the Lord, damn He's so unfair!

I blame my family, snap at friends - blinded by misdirected rage.
'All is well' is the latest fad; I chant and hope, yet I feel sad.
The problem is within, but I can't escape my my free-falling state.

They say soldier on, but how can you do that
When you're scared each moment, crying out for a one bloody reprieve!
I cut myself off from the world - fuck you,! At least I can brood in peace.

Now wait a minute, time stop the self-pity,'tis but natural anxiety.
And then it dawns on me, once my tears run dry,
All I need to do is to never give up, not go down without a try!

I'll put in my hours, do my time; thank God, not forget to smile.
For my time is now, and they can't control my heart and mind.
Why curse the world when I am the master of my soul?

My head is reeling, but I can see clearer now,
I captain my fate and faith - I know I've got my cure.
And my old friend victory will soon come knocking on my door.

---

Another attempt at poetry, for better or for verse!

Alms and the Man

Travelling in a rick,

Down the Western Expressway,
My hair blows and I make a face,
My nostrils hate the smell of Bombay.

Fuck! The light's just turned red,
There we go again...
Hundreds of vehicles spew smoke,
Making the air I breathe, most inhumane.

A group of urchins approach me,
One of 'em tugs at my jeans,
He has hungry eyes,
But he can't make me squeam.

The green light drives the chaos forward,
Damn I'm late. Onward ho!
I exhort the auto driver,
Kya hua Boss? Jaldi chalo!

No it can't be - again traffic halt?
Another pack of beggars man their beat,
With their hawker brethren for company,
Expertly, braving the rebukes in the maddening heat.

Irritated and irate, I swat them away,
Nahi bhai, agey badho!
Holy shit! That's here comes a chak,
Chutta nahi hai, maaf karo!

Sweaty and grimy, I light a cigarette,
and shove my headphones in.
For a second, I stop to ponder,
Will a rupee in alms, absolve my sins?

Just then a limbless wretch calls out for a coin,
I fumble about for small change,
Here you go, my good man. For a couple of bucks,
I sell my guilt and get peace in exchange.

---

This is my first attempt at poetry... tell me what you think?