The Time Traveler’s Wife (After the War)

Loving you

is loving a man unstuck in time.

Just when your laughter

begins to resonate in our house 

and learns the shape of our hallway,

just when your hands remember

where my waist bends,

time grabs you by the collar

and pulls you away.

You leave at the peak—

when love is loud,

when the bed still holds heat,

when promises are mid-sentence.

And I am left

to live in echoes.

I pine in the afterglow of you,

warming myself on memories.

Your shirts smell of ordinary life—

coffee, your perfume, yesterday—

and I breathe them like oxygen

until today stops hurting.

Echo Rooms

Sometimes love walks into a room

and hears an echo that isn’t its own.

It says good morning,

But what you hear is

Don’t leave me.

Every silence becomes a test,

Every pause is a prophecy.

You scroll through messages,

Measuring your worth

By the timing of a reply.

You smile,

But your body doesn’t believe you.

It remembers nights of doors slammed,

Voices that cut,

Hands that withheld.

It whispers, 'Be ready to run.'

So you love from the edge of the doorway—

Half in, half gone,

A hand always on the handle.

Friendships feel safer,

But even there,

You count the times you reached out first.

You wonder if they’d notice

The day you stopped trying.

Unhealed pain builds cities inside you,

Each street named after someone

Who promised to stay.

You keep walking them

Searching for closure

Like a child looking for a home

That no longer exists.

But someday,

A quiet hand will rest on your shoulder

And not demand anything.

It will say,

You can stop running now.

And your body will believe it.

The echoes will fade,

One heartbeat at a time.

The Folly of Sameness

Growing up in a homogeneous group can breed a kind of cultural illiteracy — not just ignorance of other traditions, but a deep-seated discomfort with difference itself. The cost? Empathy narrows. Curiosity dims. And a fear of the “other” festers.

There is a subtle tyranny that can emerge within homogeneous groups, especially during formative years, where anyone different is looked down upon or ridiculed. Here’s a reflection:

The Folly of Sameness
————————————
In halls where every voice sounds just the same,
Where mirrors line the walls with matching frames,
A child is taught to fear the foreign name,
To mock the soul that dances in new flames.

The laughter sharpens like a teacher’s rule,
The different child becomes the class’s tool—
A joke, a jest, a silence carved in stone,
Their colors drained until they match the tone.

What harm is done when no one sees the sky
From any lens but theirs? They don’t ask why
Another walks with songs they’ve never heard,
Or shapes their dreams with an unspoken word.

Sameness is easy, sameness is safe.
It feeds the need to not feel out of place.
But sameness blinds, and sameness breeds a wall,
Until the mind grows narrow, false, and small.

And those who dare to speak or dress or pray
In ways that drift from the accepted way—
They bear the weight of sneers that wound the soul,
While they still rise, and make the fractured whole.

Different forms of poetry

Poetry comes in many different forms, each with its own structure, style, and purpose. Here are some of the most common types of poetry, along with brief explanations and examples:

1. Sonnet

A 14-line poem with a specific rhyme scheme, often exploring themes like love, beauty, spiritual contemplation, and time.

Shakespearean Sonnet (English Sonnet):

Rhyme scheme: ABAB CDCD EFEF GG

Example (by William Shakespeare, Sonnet 18):

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate...

Petrarchan Sonnet (Italian Sonnet):

Divided into an octave (8 lines) and a sestet (6 lines)

The octave usually presents a problem or situation, while the sestet offers a resolution, reflection, or response to the initial theme.

This poetic form has been widely used by poets such as Petrarch, Dante, and Shakespeare.Rhyme scheme: 

Octave : ABBAABBA 

Sestet: CDECDE or CDCDCD 

Example (How do I love thee? Let me count the ways, By Elizabeth Barrett Browning)

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of being and ideal grace.

2. Haiku

A traditional Japanese form with 3 lines and a 5-7-5 syllable structure, often focusing on nature or seasons.

Example:

An old silent pond—

A frog jumps into the pond,

Splash! Silence again.

3. Free Verse

Poetry without a fixed rhyme or meter. It emphasizes natural speech patterns.

Example (by Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass):

I celebrate myself, and sing myself,

And what I assume you shall assume...

4. Limerick

A humorous five-line poem with a distinct rhythm (AABBA rhyme scheme).

Example:

There once was a man from Peru,

Who dreamed he was eating his shoe.

He awoke with a fright,

In the middle of the night,

To find that his dream had come true.

Women of our Imagination

The women of our imagination beckon us,

In the warm midnight, we are bewitched,

Those who venture into the moonlit exile,

We sit in contemplation before them,

In unquestioning devotion, we beseech,

Before the red-blossoming lotus bud,

With all senses - eyes, ears, and skin.

To enter their illusory world,

They require only self-surrender,

But when the sorcerous trance fades,

We'll regain all senses, and an idiot’s bliss.

Translated from-

কল্পকথার নারীরা 

কল্পকথার নারীরা আমাদের ডাকে 

উষ্ণ মধ্যরাতে আর বিভ্রান্ত আমরা,

যারা গৃহত্যাগী জোৎস্নায় চলে যাব 

ভেবে বসে থাকি, তাদের সম্মুখে যাই 

প্রশ্নহীন আনুগত্যে, নিবেদন করি 

লাল বিস্ফারিত পদ্মপাপড়ির কাছে 

চোখ, কান, ত্বক সহ সমস্ত ইন্দ্রিয়। 

তাদের মায়াবী পৃথিবীতে যেতে হলে 

তাদের নিয়মে শুধু আত্মসমর্পণে 

খেলা শুরু হতে পারে তবে জোৎস্নার

যাদুকরী ঘোর কেটে গেলে ফিরে পাবে 

সমস্ত ইন্দ্রিয় সঙ্গে নির্বোধের সুখ।

by Amitabha Kar

Dreamcatcher

Dreamcatcher in the night's embrace,

Weaver of dreams, guardian of space.

Hung above with feathers and thread,

Catching the tales of slumber's thread.

In the realm of twilight's gleam,

You dance with stars like a moonbeam.

Trapping worries in your intricate design,

Letting only sweet dreams intertwine.

Spider's art, a delicate feat,

You spin a web where nightmares meet.

But fear not, for you hold the key,

To set the dreamer's spirit free.

Hanging by the bedside, you sway,

As night turns into a brand new day.

Dreamcatcher, with your magic rare,

You chase away darkness, show us care.

Each bead, each loop, a mystic charm,

Guiding us through the night's alarm.

Dreamcatcher, keeper of the night,

You bring us solace, hope's pure light.

The Ghost Train

On a misty night, a tale unfolds,

Of a ghostly train, the story holds.

Its wheels creak and moan in spectral plight,

A haunting presence through the moonlit night.

Through shadowed valleys and whispering trees,

It glides on tracks with an eerie breeze.

No living soul aboard this phantom ride,

Only echoes of souls, long since died.

The ghost train chugs on with an ethereal glow,

Through desolate stations that spirits know,

Their final journey, forever bound,

In this spectral realm, can peace be found?

Its whistle wails, a mournful cry,

Across moonlit plains, it does fly.

The ghostly passengers lost and forlorn,

Seeking redemption, from dusk till dawn.

They peer through windows, eyes hollow and sad,

Yearning for release from a fate so bad.

Their haunting whispers, carried by the wind,

A spectral chorus, their sorrows pinned.

Through misty valleys and ancient tombs,

The ghost train roams in eternal gloom.

A spectral spectacle, a haunting sight,

A train of phantoms, lost in the night.

So if you dare to venture near,

Listen closely, and you might hear,

The distant rumble, the spectral wail,

Of the ghost train's journey beyond the veil.

The Instrument

Dilli - a poem by me

Love Notes

Link to Love Notes

 

An old soul

কৃতজ্ঞতা স্বীকার

আমি কি সেই পরিত্যাক্ত মেয়ে যে তুমি ছেড়ে যাওয়ার পর বাঁচা ভুলে গেছে ? আমি কি শুধুই একটা বিষন্ন প্রাণী ?

আমার সব কবিতাই কি তোমার জন্যে ? 

যখন কেউ জিজ্ঞেস করে আমি কেন লিখি আমার শুধু তোমার নামই নেওয়া উচিৎ, তাই না ? 

আমার নামে যদি কেউ কোন প্রবন্ধ লেখে তাহলে সেটার শিরোনাম হওয়া উচিৎ ,'যাকে সে আর চায় নি !'

আমার কবিতার বইয়ের প্রত্যেক পাতায় তোমার নাম হওয়া উচিৎ .. তুমিই তো আমায় খ্যাতি এনে দিয়েছো, তাই না ?

আমাকে ভেঙে চুরে আবার গড়েছ এমন করে যেন নিজেকেই নিজের থেকে বেশি মনে হয়.. 

পৃথিবীর সমস্ত একাকী রমনীদের জন্যে গল্প শুনাচ্ছি , 

তাদের শব্দের বেহালা শুনিয়ে ঘুম পারাচ্ছি...

সব কৃতিত্ব তো তোমার , তাই না ?

এই গল্পই তো তুমি সবাইকে বলো 

যে আমি ভালোবেসেছিলাম কিন্তু তুমি ভালবাসো নি ...

কিন্তু আমি তো তোমায় সেই রাতেই বলেছিলাম 

যখন তুমি আমায় বারণ করেছিলে তোমাকে নিয়ে লিখতে,  

বলেছিলাম - 

আমার লেখা সমস্ত কবিতা শুধু আমার নিজের জন্যেই !

Solitude

Where is the beauty of solitude

That the hermits talk about?

The virginal maiden of the hills

With her perfumed hair 

And light gait

Her charming smile

With a song on her lips.

Solitude for me 

Is a grotesque sea creature-

With bloody fangs

And sagging skin

Body covered in blisters and pus

Groaning a dying cry

Haunting me for life.

I keep wishing to learn to love her,

But she scares me.

I keep trying to fill the room 

Between her and me 

With people who do not care about me.

What is my fear?

That I will learn a little more

about myself in her company 

And not like what I discover?

Do not say you love me, new poem by me

The Darkness within Me

I once was...

Love Poem #1

The red crowned cranes of Hokkaido
Know the meaning of love.
They mate for life
And dance and cry in courtship displays
That strengthen their bond.
They want the whole world to know
They are happy.
Together.

I know what it feels to want love
When I focus on the shadows
Dancing on my ceiling
As you fill me up with a bit of you
And whisper,’ I love you’ into my ears.

I believe you for a moment.
But I also know the reality-
There will be another naked girl
Lying beneath you some day.
And you will say the same magical words
In the same mundane way.

When lovemaking becomes a chore
We stop pretending too.
You hide us inside the confines of my bedroom
When you are done convincing yourself
That you have given me enough,
You leave.

The sheets smell of you
Even hours after you are gone.
I weep in the shower
For the love I don’t see in your eyes

We are habits.
You and I.
We stopped being lovers a long time ago.

Maybe we were born into the wrong species.
Maybe we will be reincarnated as the cranes
And dance by the lake, in the snow.
And we will say,’I love you’ in crane language.
And we will believe it
Till death do us apart.

I wear red

Wrote this poem today to read at the Word Poetry Day Festival on March 21, 2020 at KALEID gallery (320 S. 1st St., San Jose, California 95113)

I wear red
--------------

In rebellion,
Against all the injustice in the world
Against the hatred that divides us
Based on caste, creed, gender or orientation

In reverence,
To the vermillion my mother puts on her forehead
As a mark of a married Hindu woman
While she prays for the long and healthy life of her husband
Every day.

For the passion,
That keeps us awake at night
While we make sweet, sweet love
And the rest of the world turns into a blur.

To represent my red-hot angst,
Born of the betrayals of my friends
Who thought I was expendable
Because my truth was too inconvenient for their lies.

For the blood that runs in me
The life force that keeps me going
Keeps me unafraid through the darkness of the night.

For the setting sun,
That reminds me of my own mortality
And urges me to make my dreams come true
Before I run out of time.

আমি লাল পরি 
-------------------

বিদ্রোহে,
জগতের সমস্ত অবিচারের বিরুদ্ধে
সমস্ত ঘৃণার বিরুদ্ধে
যা মানুষকে মানুষ থেকে আলাদা করে
জাত, ধর্ম বিশ্বাস, এবং লিঙ্গের পার্থক্যের জন্য II

নিষ্ঠাতে ,
আমার মার মাথার সিঁদুর এর জন্য
যা একজন হিন্দু নারীর সতীত্বের চিহ্ন
যিনি রোজ তার স্বামীর দীর্ঘায়ু কামনা করেন II

সেই কামনার জন্য
যা আমাদের রাতে জাগিয়ে রাখে
যখন আমরা আলিঙ্গনে বাকি দুনিয়াটাকে অদৃশ্য করে দিই II

সেই লাল উদ্বেগের জন্য,
যার জন্ম হয়েছে আমারই বন্ধুদের বিশ্বাসঘাতকতায় -
যারা ভেবেছিল আমি পরিহার্য
কেননা আমার সত্য ওদের মিথ্যার জন্য অসুবিধাজনক II

আমার সেই রক্তের জন্য
যা আমার শরীরে বইছে
প্রতিটি কোষে জীবন শক্তি পৌঁছে দিচ্ছে
আর আমাকে নির্ভীক রাখছে এই অন্ধকার রাতে II

আমি লাল পরি
সেই অস্তগামী সূর্যের জন্য
যে বারে বারে আমাকে নিজের নশ্বরতা মনে করিয়ে দেয়
আর আমাকে প্রেরণা যোগায় আমার স্বপ্নগুলোকে বাস্তবায়িত করার জন্য
আমার সময় ফুরিয়ে যাওয়ার আগে II