When the first time you create something, you allow your mind to freely sail. There's no restrictions, though a plan works. This basic plan does not pull you down, it does not dominate over you. Why? Because the space on the right side of your page is blank; and what comes out from your mind is what you pen down. But when you already have words filled on the right side of your cursor, to change those words you need to read and re-read them. Thus in a way your have to keep those words in mind....
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The SAARC Festival of Literature under FOSWAL was a great success. Poets and writers from all the SAARC coountries were present. I read out my poem, Who Raped and Killed the 23-year-old? It well taken. In fact a journalist from Herat requested for a copy of the poem as he wanted to get it published in a newspaper there.
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Calcutta since i love you
i've waged a war on you today

as sunset blood poured out
from the stomach of the unfledged boy
who died as a ramshackle house tumbles down
in a storm-haunted evening of vaishak 
being mistaknely killed by policemen
who shot out 
with pistols and teargas shells
to disperse angry crowds.
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Calcutta since I love you I've waged a war on you today...
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Keep the mind nude. It helps in creativity...
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When you search for the sky, but find it in your palm, the cracked skull of tomorrow tows itself till the crooked lamp. You follow a straight line to your door and the unfallen skull in rust conspires with the smell of burnt toast to disintegrate in your mouth.
Then its time to go to Harvard University to learn the HINGLISH alphabet
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what will you say
if i edit this world
remove its pains
fill it with gunpowder instead
resurrect Benjamin Moloise
from his 30-year old grave
and with his steel grit
make him explode the dynamite
and blow up the social injustice
from your land.

for oppression is a paper wall
that can be torn apart
and its effigy burnt by peacehunters…

what will you say
if i edit you,
remove your disloyalty,
fill you with gunpowder instead,
resurrect my high-nerved mind
and with my steel grit
explode the dynamite
and blow up the...
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From where did my writing begin, yes from where? It began with my mind wanting to remain in conversational silence. And so it searched all over the place from my tiny first year of birth. My mind sought refuge in my mother's lap as she cradled me close to her chest. Very soon my mind trvelled up to the branches of the mango tree as it stood a lonely picture in the small front yard of our house in Jamalpur.
Our summer holidays in my grandparents' house in Bhagalpur showed me the clouds as they...
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