tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62599407074683394032024-03-14T14:34:01.545+05:30The LoudSpeakerTurn It Up.Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.comBlogger374125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-87220282000609373882022-06-11T04:42:00.001+05:302022-06-11T04:42:13.549+05:30Another old poemRemembrains Sleeping is all well and good --I really can't complain -- butI really wouldn't like to sleepIf I'd miss the rain.Let the sun be out, or letThe darkness still remain;In light or night I'll always wakeTo see my precious rain.Be you a child who's running wildOr a man who plays with trains,In present, past, or future tensePlease wake me when it rains.This rain of ours will come and goAs Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-14940549159387746402021-12-16T11:55:00.000+05:302021-12-16T11:55:05.516+05:30Gonna unload some old poemsIt turns out that a lot of my poems lie unposted, so I shall start posting them one by one. Here's this, from about 1.5 years back. Time sure does pass strangely during this pandemic.=========================== Icarus When I see into your soulHope screams like a wounded beast,A vulture, long of carrion starved,She throws herself into the feast.Then, she flies -- exultant, crude --For she sees youAnkita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-57073916064820926512021-06-19T11:44:00.001+05:302021-06-19T11:44:40.505+05:30A remote goodbye to She-Infinity, the smoothest goshdarn dogger A Dog-walker’s DirgeThe vet has said that you must walk:Foot up, foot down, foot up.Walk now or you will never learn!Please walk, my little pup.Walk to the mess for tasty scraps,Walk right, and left, and right;And walk upstairs for treats and loveAt all hours of the night.Walk on fields, and on the streets,And jump, and play, and run!And walk, a proud and tired mum,To bring me to your Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-7417609415730994212020-05-21T12:03:00.000+05:302020-05-21T12:03:33.067+05:30RIP UndeadDream 5 : PerspectiveWhen the professor emerged from his meeting with Izuh, the Roger clones regarded him with an amusing mixture of less regimen but more confusion. Since then, on his shopping trips here with Jagruthi, there began familiar looks and mild favouritism from the businesses, which Jagruthi proudly attributed to her husband's deepening connection with the less fortunate. Soon after, "Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-76284162022798314922020-05-04T18:42:00.001+05:302020-05-04T18:42:55.280+05:30Having a friend makes life happier
Dream 4 : Behind Successful Men
When the Izuh-ra awoke at the crack of dawn, there was a lot of work to do in preparation for welcoming their guest, and yet more to do in preparation for defending their stronghold against his presence. Their big brother had retired to his chamber with his closest aide and oldest mistress -- they were to decide upon his outfit for the afternoon. So it Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-37754661888094586032020-04-11T05:07:00.000+05:302020-04-11T05:07:28.556+05:30We play games together
Dream 3 : Cuppa
Murthy almost felt more handsome than Izuh when Jagruthi looked at him that night. She was so very full of pride in his speech at the union meeting. Murthy told her how these folks' businesses were under dire pressure from mall culture, and Jagruthi immediately decreed that their household would buy from that market street as often as it could. So come Saturday afternoon Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-61200251039689785282020-04-02T16:59:00.000+05:302020-04-02T16:59:59.587+05:30That new friend is now an old friend
Dream 2 : Wordsmith
It was past sundown, and a surprisingly disciplined group of tradesmen sat around listening to Murthy. They did business under severe disadvantages but had donned their best clothes for this meeting -- after all, for the first time, someone from the better parts of the city was expressing sympathy for their troubles without asking for their votes. They probably found it aAnkita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-18741594017442763802020-02-08T05:33:00.000+05:302020-02-08T05:33:13.112+05:30Ask me about my new friend
Dream 1 : Writer's Block
Murthy had always been a moderate man. He preferred to be left to himself to do as he pleased, and held the simple belief that everyone that did not hurt anyone else should be accorded the same laissez faire. His severe critiques of powerful people would mostly concern issues where this sacrosanct freedom was violated, or where people were allowed to perpetuate Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-33755088183908927772019-11-08T14:42:00.000+05:302019-11-08T14:42:03.607+05:30Show and Tell
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Sacred Games
This fabric of hope
Stretched thinly on your bones
Reminds me of a comrade, fallen,
Another of your ranks.
Merciless and wanton,
One more I abandon
On the busy seashore
Of these rocky banks.
Each one that fell away
Wanted ballads on his stone;
Each one, he took his price
When he burned away alone.
But asking not my rhymes,
What does he ask of me,
He Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-4865897284993638402019-10-29T01:50:00.000+05:302019-10-29T01:50:34.050+05:30Breakfast Mathematics
After one and two, comes three.
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Ledge Drei
Algebra শিখিয়ে গেল যাবার পথে,
দিচ্ছে যারা সুদূর পাড়ি একলা রথে,
যাচ্ছে যাদের কিনতে গিয়ে একটু চেনা,
হোক বা না হোক চেনার টানে বেচা কেনা |
The Ledge is এখন সবজান্তার শান্ত হিসেব,
Markov-এতে ঠ্যাং দোলানো বাপ Chebyshev;
The Ledge is এখন ল্যাজ্যবিহীন মস্ত critic
যার চাপেতে morphic হল analytic.
Ledge-কে ফেলে Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-31212061506217885132019-10-26T14:29:00.000+05:302019-10-26T14:29:16.103+05:30Frenten
=================================
My Kingdom For A Room
Like a poem I lost in sleep
And would dearly love to write,
A thickly blurred and flickering form,
Lit by memory fond and bright,
Rises when my waking breath
Strokes my patient bedside wall
And clings about my tired limbs
Until my nighttime deigns to fall.
Neither like unwelcome bird,
Nor like cogs in baleful hum;
Matchless in its radiant Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-77948697599802492062019-10-23T11:20:00.002+05:302019-10-23T11:20:32.507+05:30An Old Poem to Fill the Time
===========================================================
Util
I built you back from the pieces of the boys who were your friends --
Like every seaside story, at my feet is where this ends.
Put a gaping hole where our own world used to be,
Fill it up with rum and coke and call it fantasy.
It used to be, it used to be :
I was used to you, you were used to me.
Everyone's got their own world Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-82177703611136934342019-09-23T05:40:00.001+05:302019-09-23T05:40:32.164+05:30... blaze like meteors and be gay
==============================
Inflection
Sometimes, in some crowds,
Some faces simply shine.
You know it's in your head, but still
It feels simply divine.
On your hasty, fearful way
You see a safer place.
Unto your guilt, unto your shame
It sings a saving grace.
And so you hold it hostage,
Your undeserved keepsake --
Forsaken, 'cause you know that
If you touch it, it'll break.
==============Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-51170502011391408272019-08-25T00:00:00.000+05:302019-08-25T00:00:54.808+05:30Logic, Automata and Games
================================================
Grayscale Man (?)
As happy as a bee,
As busy as a tree,
I have it in me
To be fair and free;
I have it in me
To belong to one,
To belong to all,
To be strong and tall,
To be smart and small;
And they don't trust me
But you do --
So you must know
I have it in me
To build you a wall :
It'll keep you safe,
It'll keep you brave.
I'll keep you safe,
Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-31709416218023161032019-04-06T23:37:00.001+05:302019-04-06T23:37:07.564+05:30Poofs and Hypes
================================================
Outside
A concrete corner's my new friend.
The corner sits at a corridor's bend --
A bit too far from the sweeping tree,
Too close to men to be truly free.
It patiently counts its youngish days
As shrub and earth go their own ways.
When rain falls, it shirks in fear;
Never before has it been near
To something that so freshly gives
To all that, Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-39092592684486365402019-03-10T00:36:00.000+05:302019-03-10T00:36:06.129+05:30Some Colours Were Shown
Vegetarian Man
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Make and break
The promise of green.
Hurt only where
You have seen
Your likeness -- harsh,
And much unlike
Those you spare;
Them, more of hair
And less of arm;
Those to whom
You mean no harm.
Your heart fills
With great compassion!
Human women
Are out of fashion
(Unless of course
They are white)
What's left of you
You think it's right.
Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-16966095804861626172018-11-27T09:23:00.000+05:302018-11-27T09:23:35.341+05:30Concrete should have its own label by now
This is a sequel to an older semi-serious bilingual attempt about the same beloved Ledge.
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Ledge দুই
Ledge-কে আমি সেদিন পেলাম আবার একা,
অনেকদিনের পুরানো-কে আবার দেখা|
উড়ল যারা আমার সাথে হেসেছিল,
উড়ল যারা নতুন ভালবেসেছিল|
অন্যদিকে উঁকি মেরেও দেখেছিলাম --
বুক ভর্তি কান্না নিয়ে বসেওছিলাম|
কিন্তু তাকে Ledge বলে যেই ডাকতে গেছি,
উড়িয়ে দেওয়া ভালবাসা কুড়িয়ে Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-11686658644258559792018-09-21T20:48:00.000+05:302018-09-21T20:48:04.711+05:30Growing Up Sucks
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Childhood Hence
Lights and sounds, they're wearing thin --
Lowly dim, or lonely din.
Things I knew go unrevised,
All my rules now supervised,
The steps are old, the grass is new,
There's ghosts and trees, but no Scooby-Doo.
Limitless could still be love!
Silent lies from stars above
End the day that had begun
In sunrise now gone pale and wan.
The Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-59685901953326478412018-09-03T02:06:00.000+05:302018-09-03T02:06:51.698+05:30Season Five : Victual
April 2018.
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Victual
You have your birdsong, and I
Have the yellow flowers
Against the free blue sky.
You've got them concrete towers, though
And weird concert voices.
I wish when Armageddon came
We'd made different choices.
Sunlight's washing my grey world,
Colours dance beneath.
Curled up in your blurry world
At long last, you breathe.
====================Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-28637037911472591632018-08-29T15:21:00.000+05:302018-08-29T15:21:22.922+05:30Season Four : Factual
Around April 2018.
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Factual
The sky is awfully blue --
I could've known
There's something wrong with you.
Not a cloud in sight.
I just might
Never come back home.
When they pictured hell,
They imagined
How we slowly fell;
But in tales of heaven,
Then what even
Did they mean?
Nature, nature, lovely creature,
Fell beasts in your arms;
Careful, careful, you'reAnkita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-21040777132387325632018-08-26T17:51:00.000+05:302018-08-26T17:56:56.365+05:30Season Three : Annual
Croak.
Written ~March 2018
====================================
Annual
I shooed and screamed at clouds; I hoped
They were not here to stay --
I took great pain to make it rain
When they'd gone away.
But my earth, it scorched and burned,
The dust engulfed it all;
Sandstorms swept up all around me,
Making me feel small.
And when the scornful cloud returned, oh
How it loved to gloat.
The Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-26169691811705211802018-08-22T00:09:00.000+05:302018-08-22T00:09:30.313+05:30Season Two : Gradual
The second poem in that series from last year. This one was written around Sept-Oct 2017.
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Gradual
The day my body wastes away
And no one speaks for me,
Tell them of the good old days
And the good you saw in me.
Tell them of the soul untouched
That sold itself to pain;
Tell them of the wretched dance
In stinging seaside rain;
Tell them of the Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-79484155955265355722018-08-20T23:18:00.001+05:302018-08-20T23:18:56.878+05:30Season One : Vertical
This is the series I wrote over the past year that I debated whether or not to post. I have finally decided to put it out there -- despite this not being my better work, I have tried my hand at a new type of content and would like to receive feedback.
This particular poem was written around March-April 2017.
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Vertical
The door was open through the nightAnkita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-8239528933858924772018-08-14T16:29:00.000+05:302018-08-14T16:29:12.365+05:30Kanyakumari Revisited
While I muster the courage to post that series from the past year, here is a standalone(?) poem of the usual odd-semester-at-CMI kind.
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Transience
Etch the ballpoint memory
Of a distant past that isn't me
Alongside the ramblings of
Another maddened poet.
The reptiles on the wall
Moult when curtains fall;
"Seasons will repeat", wisely,
Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6259940707468339403.post-57763961429000198622018-06-15T01:21:00.000+05:302018-06-15T01:21:08.444+05:30*be*
Series progress.
==================================
Noida Man
Nearby Delhi :
So much corruption,
So much collusion.
Noida Man
Takes electric vehicle --
Less pollution.
Madam is young,
Modern and all,
Clothes too small.
In electric vehicle
Noida Man
Sneaks a look
Down Madam's chest;
Madam finds
A similar view --
With foliage, too.
Noida Man
Has work to do,
No time to Ankita Sarkarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05033470571239061752noreply@blogger.com0