"It approaches like a train, it runs like a train, and then it stops like a YouTube video -- ringing the doorbell of a gynecologist. It is like being born in the home of a gynecologist: you do it once, and you repent ever after."
"Many days ago, in a stormy night, I hugged Maa tightly; my father locked the door, Trying to commit suicide."
"God itself made the world, and we Think upon his image, the question Rises deep in our hearts: exactly how the cement Of creation was mixed with water, in Which machine they rolled together, what seminal Construction products were used."
"Many many days ago, I had met him on a morgue. I was sleeping on our house's roof, on cemented base, And the sun was right above the horizon, awaiting To go to London."
This hub tries to answer the age old question: How should one live one's life. There are infinite ways to live one's life—but which way is the perfect? Philosopher Immanuel Kant succeeded in answering this question: but he—too—could only answer it partially. So let us answer this question here.
I've decorated my dead mother's body with bombs, and have hired A Microsoft employee (from Fiverr, for ten dollars per hour rate) to set the bombs with a timer. I've never called my mother "Mother". I've always called my mother "Maa!".
"Sunup; The color of the sky is flaccid blue, like the skin of grasshopper: Everywhere around, guava and shrub trees are green like the feathers of parrot bird."
"Deep windy night was yesterday's night; All night long, broad and wide wind has played in and across my mosquito net; The mosquito net has swelled like the belly of the monsoon sea, Often it tried to snap from the bed and fly out to the stars;"
A simple poem of life.
A poem translated from the Bengali language. Enjoy!
A poem translated from the Bengali language. Enjoy!