First Step

Thick fog blurred the vision and choked breath. There was no sign of it thinning out. Only a sliver of light managing its way through the thick blanket raised hope. I waited to feel the warm and glow of the source of light ever since I've been entangled in this fog. Time passed by and the sliver now turned to prominent ray penetrating through the fog to fill me with its divine intensity.......
Making no sense of what I'm talking about, is it???...Well, let me clear the air.

Ever since I've been in Bangalore, I've waited for the moment when I would be back home. Life in Bangalore seems like the dreadful fog. With nothing around to claim as mine. People, culture, food and language. Leaves me blind and helpless among strangers. 3rd of October was the day which raised hope. This was the day I would fly to my own land among my own people.The days passed by to make way for this long awaited day and finally it was Friday, 3rd of October.

Friends and colleagues had already stuffed me with all possible knowledge and information about flight and airport formalities (Heartiest thanks to them). Reached office early to clock in some time but frankly speaking hardly could concentrate on what I did. The excitement of going back home soon turned to a strange nervousness. My heart dribbled with sweating of my palms and ears steaming red hot. "Calm down, it'll be OK", I repeated to comfort myself. Escorted by two of my friends I left my office bidding good byes to some more of them, to get the bus to the airport. While the bus headed towards the airport , i made some quick calls at home to ensure that I'm on my way.

Checking in was not of much hassle. The hour long wait for the flight resulted in encounter with some weird personalities. It was raining heavily outside and I could sense my heart quivering already. An announcement echoed in the hall and everyone rushed towards the door. I wasn't nervous now but could feel my heart shift couple of inches upwards. Took my seat in the plane as directed by the air hostess. It was the isle seat which made me uncomfortable with people walking up and down. I pushed myself back into my seat and fastened my seat belt as securely as possible. The plane started to move and as I managed to peep outside we were angling our way into the clouds. A halt at Chennai airport gave me the much awaited window seat with an aged lady to my left.

The next two hours were an experience of lifetime. The scene outside my window couldn't be expressed in words. Orange sea of clouds with some gray ones popping among them like rocks. Distant sun rays sieved through the darker clouds. Streaks of golden light flooded over the orange sea.It was calm yet so mesmerizing. Soon someone spilled much darker shades of orange and later black.

It was almost time for landing. I peeped out this time to look deep down. The city of Kolkata dazzled like a clear black night sky with millions of stars. Perhaps much more than that. Twinkling lights filled in the black canvas as far as eyes could go.The plane hovered over "Bengali" sky for sometime and then headed straight down to a perfect landing. As my feet stepped on the turf I strange feeling engulfed me. I wanted to cry and probably laugh. I wanted to jump and shout aloud. My heart hammering hard in my chest. My eyes stuck on the huge glowing sign which read "NETAJI SUBHAS CHANDRA BOSE AANTORJATIK BIMAN BONDOR" in bengali. I was home (on my own land). I felt something warm trickling down the corners of my eyes. Perhaps nobody noticed.Clutching my bag I walked into the bus. My heart still quivering and mind managing to mask my feeling with a serious and emotionless face. This feeling will only be mine till my death and even when I'm gone....

Mirrored You

The mirror never tells what you actually are.
The mirror never reflects what you feel.
The mirror never shows your golden heart.
Then why do you believe that the image in the mirror is you.

The mirror only shows what want you to become
The mirror tells you that you are still not perfect
But it never prompts that no one can be perfect
Then why do you believe that the image in the mirror is you.

The mirror never portrays the way you would laugh at jokes
The mirror never screens the way you would cry when hurt
The mirror never shows the way you treat others
Then why do you believe that the image in the mirror is you.

So next time when you stare at the image in your mirror
Think again, if it is you standing face to face?
Did the mirror reveal the "actual" you?
Did the mirror unveil your beautiful soul?

Being Invisible

I was just beside you when
you wanted to share your happiness.
But you never realized.

I was just there,

when you invited others to your party.

But you never missed my presence.

I was just next to you,
with wet eyes waiting for your soft words.
But my tears never touched you.

I was just there when
you wanted someone to hold your hand.
But you never reached out for.

I was always around you,
but you never felt my existence.
For I never tried to tell you,
how it feels to be invisible.