A vagabond amid the brook...a vagrant soul...a human so humane...bibliophilic...anthrophobic entity...give it a try...come..explore..

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  • dipanjan_b 39w

    It was dark midnight, three o clock may be,
    I heard some deep whispers in my balcony.
    I woke up half asleep and heard a voice too deep,
    Into my ears and brain, tampering with my sleep.

    I walked out of my room, through the open door,
    Dragging myself alone, over the wooden floor.
    My eyes were searching sharp, into the world of dark,
    To trace the voices heard and hunt each fishy mark.

    Suddenly like a dream, I saw out through the door,
    A flight of stairs evolved from my broken floor.
    Crumbled parts of walls, holes were clean to see,
    The night was filled with bliss amid the sullen sea.

    On the topmost stair I saw, a silhouette was standing there,
    His face was blurred to see, facing the tranquil air.
    He gazed into the moon, shining in the sky,
    As if he had his wings and planned to jump and fly.

    The sky was silent though, filled with twinkling souls,
    They peeped inside my house, through those broken holes.
    A tinge of glittering light made me see again,
    The man with a flackey face, muttered few words insane.

    A sharp ray of light, sneaked into my sight,
    I saw those cloudy balls, glaring and so bright.
    It was the morning sun, I heard my momma's scream,
    Gosh!!! I felt it now, it was a broken dream.

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    The Phantom Of The Night


  • dipanjan_b 41w

    Love can change a life,
    Indeed better than a knife.
    Like a tranquil flow of brook,
    Love can alter the frowning look.

    Every mortal being on earth,
    Right from the day of birth.
    Needs a tinge of love to smile,
    And walk with honour, the pending mile.

    The one's who lack these vibes of pink,
    Lose their minds and fails to think.
    They turn lethal souls on earth,
    Abusing humans, tampering mirth.

    Lethal souls with crime in blood,
    Often lured in greedy flood
    Stabs a body without a blink,
    Those waves of agony, they dont think.

    They dont panic if someone's dead,
    They paint their skins with waves of red.
    The steal the shares of innocent men,
    And make them hopeless, run insane.

    Yet a tinge of pinkish vibe,
    Can still change the way of life.
    Love them, make them feel their price,
    They too will hold those tears in eyes.

    Love and care are what they need,
    To walk out from the world of greed.
    The filthy world with cruel lanes,
    Must be cleansed with drops of rains.

    Hate the crime but not the man,
    He's the ignorant part of clan.
    He too holds a heart that's pure.
    Love can change him, love can cure.

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    Love Can Change A Life


  • dipanjan_b 41w

    Last night, amid the clouds of dark,
    I saw you close and saw your mark.
    A smoky lane tween the rows of trees,
    I felt a gust of the lonesome breeze.
    A silhouette I saw, amid the fume,
    It was you, I presume.
    I called you, with your name I knew,
    My voice was merely heard by few.
    A barren land with no trace,
    Of a single human face.
    I walked behind the fuming glow,
    Crossing the trees, the woody row.
    Shirin, I uttered with teary eyes,
    It's so painful, this disguise,
    Come to me, hold my hand,
    Let us again walk on the sand.
    The rainbow life was lost in clouds,
    Still for you, my voice is loud.
    Shattered hopes with a broken dream,
    Yes, a dream that leaves a beam,
    To light up dreadful nights for me,
    What on earth do I need to see?
    Each night with dreams of fear,
    Death, I smell you very near.
    Last night, I have seen again,
    Shirin, thy soul still yells in pain.
    It was never my fault o dear,
    I still smell you, feel you near.
    Those riotous tides had pulled you close,
    I ran perplexed, with the rose
    I brought to gift you, only you,
    But your soul was lost in blue.
    I jumped inside the vigorous sea,
    Just to hold you close to me.
    But I held your silent flesh,
    Wrapped inside the sandy mesh.
    Your soul had left me, left my earth,
    Somewhere to take a different birth.
    I still count days, count each dream,
    The day I too will cross the stream.
    And knock thy door in a different land,
    Away from waves of the mortal sand.

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    Last Night Dream


  • dipanjan_b 42w

    A call for all, my worthy men,
    Let us all step out of den.
    Let us raise our voices high,
    Till it shakes the gloomy sky.

    We are humans, human blood,
    Strong and stable amid the flood.
    We can walk through astral space,
    And lead all forms in every race.

    Then what so urgent? why insane?
    Why can't actions seek for brain?
    You feel lusty, you feel hot,
    Led by chunks of filthy thoughts.

    You need sex, you need life?
    Why can't you then get a wife?
    She is guilty, she is a whore,
    And you do walk through royal door.

    Where does shame then hide the face?
    Is it behind her lusty dress?
    This is indeed sick insane,
    A virus in this world of men.

    You worship female forms of God,
    And seek her blessings in every word.
    But is it just for the doll of clay?
    Not for the ones who paints our day?

    Not for the ones who work so long,
    Just to make us fit and strong.
    Each a girl you see each day,
    Are the dolls of breathing clay.

    They are a mother, or a sister in form,
    They do hold you amid the storm.
    You too must be a worthy son,
    Then why do lust still rule the fun?

    I call you all Oh worthy souls,
    Let us proceed to reach our goals.
    Let us paint a safer earth,
    To let all girls cherish their birth.

    To let them breathe in peaceful air,
    We must work out our own share.
    Let no Nirbhaya die in pain,
    Flooded in waves of thoughts insane.

    Let no Priyanka ever again,
    Die in hands of filthy men.
    Let those candles light up lives,
    Sprinkling bliss and graceful vibes.

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    Voice Against Rape


  • dipanjan_b 42w

    Look up, gaze into the dazzling night sky,
    Do you ever wonder, how birds can fly?
    Have you ever seen those twinkling stars,
    Shining beyond the lands of Mars.

    Behold the gleaming stars up there,
    Beyond the spherical atmosphere.
    They shine to light and light to shine,
    All so arranged in a typical line.

    Differing shapes and varying forms,
    No matter whether they break the norms.
    Yet they sprinkle a fountain of light,
    To illuminate our mortal sight.

    What if I say something that's new?
    It's an illusion, a perplexed view.
    The star that shines beyond the sky,
    Might not hold its place so high.

    A ray of light that runs through space,
    Rushes amid those celestial race.
    It has a speed that holds an end,
    No matter how much you twist and bend.

    Light years we often speak aloud,
    The distance beyond those visible clouds.
    It takes a hundred years to reach,
    The mortal eyes through the astral beach.

    A star that smiled its brightest light,
    Might not yet be held up tight.
    A million years might have passed,
    For the ray to kiss the crust.

    Aren't we watching history then,
    Am I sounding too insane?
    Ponder deep into my words,
    We too can fly like the fancy birds.

    #mirakee #mirakeens #writersnetwork

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    Beyond the Stars


  • dipanjan_b 42w

    I saw, I saw once again,
    Through those crystal drops of rain.
    My window glass still holds the mark,
    Gleaming bright even in dark.

    You see, it's still drizzling dense,
    Pouring into my feelings intense.
    Yes, they fill my soul each time,
    Like those pills, those sleepy enzymes.

    The smell still wafts into my cage,
    And I keep a count of my melting age.
    The sullen sky spoke a trillion words,
    And I gazed through the flock of birds.

    Scary clouds, thunders, lightning streaks,
    I still remember those monsoon weeks.
    A cup of coffee, your sipping style,
    I can still behold your pretty smile.

    Once you wrote my name out there,
    Over the window's hazy layer.
    Little droplets, hold thy face,
    Like a mirror of fervent grace.

    I saw, yes I saw once again,
    Those crystal drops of worthy rain.
    Few drops even kiss my cheeks,
    I hide them in these monsoon weeks.

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    The Vibes of Monsoon


  • dipanjan_b 42w

    The Ring Of Gold

    Yes, I turned few pages to get a hold,
    The novel was submerged in waves of gold.
    The story had mysteries of the lost ring,
    How some clues were joined into a string.
    The gang of suspicious men in blue,
    Used an entire bottle of glue.
    They broke into the door of glass,
    Hidden behind those lands of grass.
    They tampered with those cameras there,
    And barged in like a gust of air.
    The glue was poured into the floor,
    Right in front of the vitreous door.
    The cops were held back in the glue,
    And they left out an obscure clue.
    They stole so neat the ring of gold,
    In a million dollars it could be sold.
    I read each page, each line and word,
    Like a game of pen and sword.
    I paused a while to turn the book,
    And closed the cover to have a look.
    No name of a writer could I see,
    I found the book beneath a tree.
    The tale of the lost ring, I could read,
    The story was good, what else I need?
    I turned the book to see what's back,
    A hundred pages of the mystery sack.
    It reads in red few lines in bold,
    Beware, the one who touch the gold.
    The tale of the lost ring brings down curse,
    You will see your life turn worse.
    In a while my fingers brushed,
    To find some object, filled in dust.
    The page behind had a tiny hole,
    And inside was the ring of gold.
    I brought it out with utter care,
    Though I felt it's not my share.
    I saw a fume of golden dust,
    I was held in deep aghast.
    Slowly the ring was lost again,
    Into the fumes of the golden rain.
    I fell unconscious on the floor,
    Ignorant of my open door.
    I opened my eyes to see my fate,
    Few heavy grills and a locked up gate.
    They thought I was one among the men,
    Bathed in drops of the golden rain.
    Ten long years they held my string,
    Coz they say I had the ring.

  • dipanjan_b 42w

    Years ago when life was crude,
    Apparent desires behind the wood
    Peeped out cold and a timid glance
    Proved their chastity in all chance.

    Men had ways to live a life,
    Not so held by a maiden wife.
    Here and there in varried forms,
    Men had choices to jubilate storms.

    Though in a crowd of devout beings,
    Women could never spread their wings.
    Mild restricted air around,
    No cravings could ever be traced or found.

    No lust in soul had ways to speak,
    No sense of delight they could seek.
    Selfless choices chained them free,
    Fettered so close to the strongest tree.

    Cooked up tales of mythos we hear,
    Unheard voices clenched in air.
    Never they reach to the souls of men,
    Like an echo they float in vain.

    Modern scenes on the canvas world,
    Voices here are loud and bold.
    Choices held up higher each day,
    Women perhaps have an exalted say.

    Hidden desires, lust and fun,
    All do speak out beneath the sun.
    It's the same earth, soil and soul,
    Mortal minds have seen the goal.

    The world was same the way it is,
    A woman's soul still had a wish.
    The unheard desires craved to speak,
    Amid the globe they felt so weak.

    Purity paints us, paints our souls,
    Top to bottom it paints us whole.
    Natural flow of lust and love,
    Must still be held up all above.

    #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeens #writersofmirakee

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    The Art of Semblance


  • dipanjan_b 43w

    Somewhere between those playful days,
    Somewhere amid those smiles.
    We have seen a billion ways,
    And walked a thousand miles.

    Little feet that stumbled once,
    Reached the school gates.
    Tiny brains, didn't feel the chance,
    To paint down worthy fates.

    Scared of teachers, smudgy eyes,
    Hearts that pumped so fast.
    We had no clue what's truth and lies,
    Yet wrinkled in aghast.

    From diction and those phonetic calls,
    Till the number plays.
    We kept on learning, counting balls,
    And counting months and days.

    Through each a morn, and each a day,
    Our kinder life began.
    New rhymes to learn and toys to play,
    New faces filled our clan.

    In little steps the leaf unfurled,
    The first rays of the sun.
    Painted wings to face the world,
    Untill the work was done.

    Then one day those little hands,
    Took up worthy roles.
    Imprinting footprints on the sands,
    We reached our destined goals.

    The barren grounds and iron gates,
    Stand unchanged for years.
    They witness faces, adorn fates,
    And swing in smile and tears.

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  • dipanjan_b 43w

    You know there is a tiny heart,
    A little one indeed.
    It keeps on pumping life line flows,
    Into the cells that need.

    It keeps the brain still dipped in blood,
    Lets it breathe its thoughts.
    The mind has grooves to store its vibes,
    And plant on barren plots.

    Thoughts are filled with cloudy mists,
    They float in scattered chains.
    They can sense the world around,
    Amid the sun and rains.

    The subtle mind in mundane blinks,
    Meets a hundred faces.
    One by one the names do fall,
    In their respective places.

    One among the thousand smiles,
    Paints the best of arts.
    It grabs the zone of deepest feels,
    Inside the human heart.

    You may call it a tale of love,
    Or the game of feels.
    The priority list with varied names,
    Travel on elusive wheels.

    The one who tops the list of names,
    The one with a profound smile.
    Is the one who holds the heart,
    And rules throughout the mile.

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    The Priority List