Brotherhood// "Hold the line", cried our officer, As we raised our shield to counter the rage of a thousand arrows falling from the sky above. It has been 13 days of a total bloodbath. I am fortunate enough to have survived so far. I have traveled thousands of miles, From Pragjyotishpura to Kurushetra. I don't understand the complications behind the war, But I had sworn to protect our leader, As had my brother. Yesterday I saw our leader, King Bhagadatta being slayed by Prince Arjuna. His elephant Supratika too fell a martyr, Falling to the volley of wild fire from the Bow of Kapidhwaja. Sitting beside our leader was my elder brother, the mahout of Majestic Supratika, Who too died with an arrow piercing his head. But no one mourns him as he was just an ordinary soldier, But for me he was my only brother. So now I fight To honor our leader, To honor the pride of Pragjyotishpura, And to avenge my brother. But I haven't see Prince Arjuna since morning today. Where has he disappeared? Something has been different today in our camp, For we have been arranging ourselves to some strange patterns, I have never heard of. Several thousands of us constantly moving to the tunes of our officers. Chakravyuhu, someone just explained the name of the pattern. A strategy to capture whoever dares to break into the formation, Dead or alive doesn't even matter. But I hear that only the young warrior Abhimanyu, son of Arjuna has managed to breach into the formation. I have seen Abhimanyu duel with our King Bhagadatta too And the boy is as skilled as his father, If not more. Though I can't see him yet, But his arrows are already creating an inferno. "Hold the line", cried our officer again, As few of the soldiers tried to run away hearing the approach of Abhimanyu's chariot. The ground beneath us rumbles, As a cloud of dust emerge. I can see Abhimanyu's chariot now, As keeps releasing infinite arrows, Holding his divine bow Raudra. As Abhimanyu's chariot gets closer, I look at our officer for the final order. "Attack!", he yells. And we charge towards Abhimanyu on foot, Holding our ordinary shields and spears. (c) Anurag Talukdar Epilogue: Abhimanyu continued to wreak havoc for several more hours and ultimately reached to the centre of the Chakravyuhu. Unfortunately he didn't know his way out. It took the combined might of 7 Kaurava warriors to finally kill Abhimanyu. He was just 17 years old. As for our unknown protagonist, he never stood a chance. One of the many casualties in the battle of Kurushetra, who finds no mention anywhere. Notes: Kapidhwaja- Another name of Prince Arjuna, the greatest warrior in the battle of Kurushetra Pragjyotishpura- Kingdom of Kamrupa in modern day Assam Bhagadatta- King of Pragjyotishpura and father-in-law of Crown Prince Duryodhana. King Bhagadatta commanded the strongest elephant regiment in the war Supratika- A gigantic war elephant mounted by King Bhagadatta. Supratika fought many battles with Prince Bheema in the battle of Kurushetra Raudra- Divine bow of Prince Abhimanyu, gifted by Lord Balarama Mahout- A person who takes care of an elephant and rides it too. Usually it is a lifetime bond Battle of Kurushetra- A 18 days battle between Pandavas and Kauravas that eventually involved all major powers of Indian subcontinent Unknown protagonist- Our unknown protagonist fought from the Kauravas side and is unsure of the reasons for the war. But he fought to honor his allegiance to his King Bhagadatta. He died facing Prince Abhimanyu

Ego// We were having a pleasant conversation, Over a coffee in a restaurant beside the grand old river. Ambience was cozy and music was nice, We have known eachother for over eight weeks or nine. You were just perfect. Not just a pretty face, But highly intelligent, With a flair to converse on any topic under the sun. A sapiophile's delight! We had met in a dating site. I was smitten, When you had said you like Sartre. Not many people admire existenalism in this age of digital disruption. Especially managers who work at IT startups. As for me, I am a visiting professor to few local colleges. There is something magnetic in you, That let's me agree to all your foolish demands. Like when you said we should go to Rangoon for our honeymoon. But off late you have been acting strange. Why are are insisting on splitting the bills? Is it just to remind that you earn more than me? I am not a chauvinistic pig, But I still have some pride left. I truly love you, But I will never seek to survive on your charity. I have no issues with you working. Infact, I will celebrate all your success. But I can never accept any money from you, As it will hurt my ego. And there I just said it, loud and clear. Yes, I have a little ego, Fragile enough but not illogical. I hope you understand. So, today can I pay the bill? (c) Anurag Talukdar

God// I am a realist, I have a scientific temperament. I don't believe in supernaturals, Nor in demon, ghost or angels. I live a simple life, I keep my expectations to bare minimum. I don't wish for riches abundant, Just enough to be comfortable. I am ambitious too. I continously seek to improve. Not through some miracles, But by constant repetition. I have failed more than I have succeeded. I have been ridiculed more than I have been praised. I too have lost my love ones, I too have gone through depths of self doubt and depression. I am not perfect, I have few vices too. But I forgive myself as I am only an human. But I seek to improve myself, Taking one step at a time towards my journey of transformation, To become a better man. But I have learned to embrace my past, I am not at all ashamed. If I were to live my life all over again, With the same circumstances, I will never hesitate. I find peace in my solitude, Conversing with myself. Why would I seek company of anyone else, mortal or otherwise, When I am my truest friend. (c) Anurag Talukdar

Positive// Waiting for my turn outside the chamber, Counting the certificates displayed on the walls, I keep staring at the doctor's photograph. I have met him earlier, My current psychiatrist. And my mother thinks he is better. My parents keep begging me to be more optimistic, So do my relatives. And as for friends, I have none. They were all hypocrites. That's what I hear. But I had a lover once, As I still have traces of his memories. Were we married too? I can't recall exactly. Back in my parents bedroom, There is a photograph of me with a young man holding a toddler. Was that our daughter? What happened to them? I have no answers. Now when I glance in a mirror, I see a middle aged women with a streak of grey hair and two dull eyes. When did I grow so old? Wasn't I till yesterday, a dotting teenage daughter? Why things are so jumbled up inside my mind? Sometimes I scream in frustration, How long? I don't remember. But often I end up in a sanitorium, Waking up to a heavy dose of Valium. Then a nurse would come and tie my hair. She will dictate the benefits of positive thinking, With a rehearsed smile. I would beg her to reveal what had happened to my husband and my daughter. The nurse would simply laugh, And tell me that I am just a 15 years old teenager. (c) Anurag Talukdar

Rain// You walking beside me, Taking about things you love. Dark clouds above, Sending spears of rain nonstop. A tiny umbrella shielding us, From getting totally drenched. I know it is futile But it let's me hold your hand. You tell me you like to paint. I wonder if you can paint us now? Two lunatics under a tiny umbrella, When the whole town is evading the downpour. Two days of rain has wrecked havoc, Causing waterlogging across the town. Yet we have stepped out for a walk, Drifting aimlessly in the streets below, Streets that resemble tiny streams, Streets devoid of any human beings. But, the people stare at us from their windows, Smirking as we go pass them, Holding our tiny little umbrella. People may say we are lunatics, But do we really care? You walking beside me, Taking about things you love. Dark clouds above, Sending spears of rain nonstop. (c) Anurag Talukdar

School Days// It's a story not too familiar, That I heard from my great grandmother, About the town she grew up. And so she said from here on- "In the days gone by, Our house was in the outskirts of the old town, A town that was haunted by oblivion. Most of the grown up men were fighting in the western front, Men compelled to fight despite nothing at stake. The wives spent most of their time fearing a gleam future. The children ran around the ghost town, totally clueless. But the town had many plantations around, Tea gardens as fondly called. There were few tea factories to process the tender tea leaves too, To soothe the senses of the elites across the world. But the war ensured, There were shortage of hands at the factories and plantations alike, Forcing higher ups to take drastic measures. The council of the higher ups unanimously proclaimed that despite the war, the tea factories must operate nonstop, As Europe must never run out of tea cups. Take the children out of school, Came the diktat. The girls must pluck leaves from the tea gardens. While the boys above eight must be inside the factory gate. Then I was not even a teenager, But I was a good student Studying in the primary grades. But I never went to the school again, As I mended the tea plants for the next six years, Morning to dusk. Then came the famine. Though there was no scarcity of food grains, But artificially induced by the higher ups. Letting the natives die in millions, Just for their sadistic delight. Finally peace did prevail. But for six whole years the school stayed closed. Half of the men who went to the war never came back. And those who did had atleast one limb short. Boys as young as fifteen were forcefully conscripted, Widows had lost their young sons too, Fighting a war that had no meaning to them. I too cried over the news of the death of my father and two brothers, All died fighting a war that we should not have even bothered. But it changed our life forever, My mother and my two younger sisters. Soon I was married to a man, Who had returned from the battlefield, Having lost one eye. I was lucky, As he was appointed as a foreman, In one of the tea gardens. Soon the school reopened, As we had achieved independence. Eventually all my four children did study there, All clearing their matriculation, Fulfilling my dream in the end. So if you are writing a poem on school days, Tell them our generation's story. A story of a small town, Surrounded by green hills of tea all around, A town in the heart of the eastern sun". And so concluded my great grandmother with tears in her eyes. (c) Anurag Talukdar

Moon// Look there is a new moon in the sky! Purple in colour but slightly smaller. It just popped up out of nowhere, Creating a mass hysteria. It seems to be much farther than the old one, Though it makes a more vibrant sight. It has been 146 days, And now we have clear picture of its surface. An ordinary moon with lots of scars in its face. Fears of aliens have been allayed, As our probes did already land up there, And has been transmitting continuous images. The Purple moons moves slower than the old grey one. It too has been waxing and waning since it first appeared. Every 34th day, the 2 moons align their path with the sun and the earth, Casting a massive lunar eclipse of sort. It doesn't impact us much, Except a mild throbbing pain in our hearts. It lasts for only a few minutes. Doctors just blame it to mass hysteria, Rubbishing any conspiracy theories. Today there is a total ellipse later. We already have braced for the same by proactively taking some pain killers. The two moons dance across the sky, As the people below carry on with their mundane lives. No body is complaining any more, As we have adjusted to the new paradigm. (c) Anurag Talukdar

Romance// Good poets have a broken heart, Or so did I read somewhere. It was my early teenage years, Harmones were damaging my mental equilibrium. I was chubby, shy and nerd, Not a topper but close enough. But poetry was my passion And I wanted my heart to be broken. Problem was, I had never been in love. To whom should I express my desires? Some one who would surely decline, And send me to the depths of misery. So I decided on my target, The most beautiful girl in our class, Who was also the topper. I wrote her a love letter, Added aroma of dried rose petals, Sealed in an envelope made of perfumed paper. But I got scared and didn't mention my name, Left the letter inside her school bag. She assumed it was my best friend, And slapped him hard in front of everyone. My friend was clueless and cried the whole afternoon. I got even more scared and didn't return to school for the next three days. Honestly all these was more than I had bargained for. But who needs a broken heart, When you get a post traumatic stress disorder! So I did become a poet, Yet, not a romantic one. (c) Anurag Talukdar

Nature// I was born with a demented mind and an inflated ego. I believe I am destined to rule over all, unquestioned supremacy. My needs are few, if I accept harmony. But my greed is endless, as I seek wanton destruction only. In my quest, there will be some collateral damage. Now, don't you believe in those fake narratives, that they recite, Just random ploys to derail progress. Didn't I fix the hole in the sky? Just have faith in me, you silly! What climate change? Infact, climate always changes. Climate has always changed and always will. What's the big deal? I am destined to reach the stars, And I will surely reach there in a hundred years. If this wretched planet dies, who cares! We can terraform Mars, Europa or some other planet in Andromeda. But for that I must always be on my quest for progress. Join me and together we can achieve wonders. Now what? You still cribbing about animal rights, despite everything I just explained! You are wasting my time. May be I will cut your funding to teach you a lesson. Poke me more, litigation is just a phone call away. (c) Anurag Talukdar Notes: Hole in the sky- Ozone layer hole Terraform- Process of transforming other planets to have the characteristics of Earth Europa- One of the moons of Jupiter that may support life Andromeda- Our nearest galaxy that also has billions of stars

Family// We had met, Three decades back, On a hot summer afternoon. I was nervous, Didn't know what to expect, Till I saw your calmed expression. It was an arranged marriage, Our parents had already decided, We only had to go with the flow. I wished we could have conversed, Even a few minutes would have been enough. But I was not sure how to let you know. If only you would have understood. And you did! You said you wanted to have a talk, And our parents agreed. In that half an hour, Standing beside you in the balcony, I was awestruck by your honesty. All my fears had disappeared, All my inhibitions had melted away. Love had struck me that very day. After four months we were married, I had moved to a new town. I found a new identity and new family. It was not easy. But you were always there. Through tears and smiles, Through pain and joy. Last year I did lose you, And it was unexpected. I was shattered but I didn't lose my courage. For our family has now a grandson, Our daughter's first one. He just looks like you. I want to tell him all about you. The amazing heart his grandfather had, I am sure he would love you too. (c) Anurag Talukdar

Friendship// Friends make us fall in love, To the places where they are abundant enough. Memories from our school are special, As we had friends from whom had little exceptations. As we keep growing, While making friends, We seek only our gains. But often we end in pain. Nature's way to restore balance. If you consider yourself as a friend, Don't act as a trading agent. Love them for who they are, Accept their flaws, Embrace their mistakes. If you are still seeking something in return, Then you are looking for business. Nothing wrong in it, But please don't conceal it with a veneer of friendship. (c) Anurag Talukdar

First Love// When I was a little child, Barely enough to crawl. I would gaze in the tall mirror, Affixed in one of the bedroom walls. I may have got puzzled at first, But would have figured it out eventually, That the boy on the other side, Was just an image of mine. Typical questions I would have posed- Was I really cute enough? Was I ever getting taller than the rest. Questions simple enough to answer. Answers Just enough to instill some confidence. So began the ritual to gaze in the mirror, Whenever I felt low or felt depressed. So, who was my first love you inquire? The answer is so obvious my friend? And the saga continues till this very day, My longest lasting love affair! I guess it’s true for you too, For everyone it does. Our first love is ourselves. You can call me narcissist, You can call me a freak. But if you deny my claim, Then my friend, you may be a plain hypocrite. © Anurag Talukdar

Festival// Months of hard work has finally borne fruits, Our harvest is ready and joyous is the mood. Our shaman begins by thanking the God above, As a deer is brought in by the hunters. We all kneel before the alter, As the sacrificial hymn is chanted before the fire. Then our chief declares the fair open. The children rush to play the games. Stalls of all kinds on display, And traders screaming to attract our attention. Aroma of the local brews, Intoxicates the senses of young and old. While assortment of condiments, Keeps all the children glued. Then we all assemble in the field beside the shrine. Where we all dance to the beat of the drum. The full moon luminates the night, As we go round the bonfire, Dancing in joy unbridled. This fanfare will continue till late, As we celebrate our little success. This our festival to honour our tradition, Our tradition to celebrate our fruits of harvest. (c) Anurag Talukdar

Dream// I dream of being a straw man, Hanging by the edge of your field. The breeze makes my torn clothes flutter, As I hold my perpetual grin. Last night after the storm, I was left totally drenched. My torn clothes ripped apart, By the sharp claws of wind. The crows in black mocking me, While the sparrows are indifferent. I wait for you to resurrect me, Restore me to my glorious past. As a strawman I have no demands. I just stare, stand and grin. The birds do hate me, But I hardly even care. I wish I could write, As a strawman I have plenty of time. I could have written so many things, Memories and emotions, otherwise forgotten. And one uncomfortable truth , Mostly obliterated from your collective memory, Is that of your very own straw man. Eternally with you in your dreams. I am the straw man in your dreams, I chase the demons while you are asleep. I douse the fire of your suppressed desires, Letting you enjoy an eternal spring. (c) Anurag Talukdar

Parallel Universe // I woke up with a strange sensation. I found myself inhaling the aroma of the mountains. That was not how my town's air felt, Or was it a new room fragrance? I glanced at my room, And something had changed. Precisely what, I couldn't understand. In came my wife, Carrying a cup of my morning tea. As I took a sip, I could sense the change it its usual feel. "Have you changed the tea brand?" I casually inquired. "No, the same old one", she replied, As she got ready to leave for her office. I glanced at her with the indifference of being married for over sixteen years. She looked just the usual, Except for her lips, As it was smeared in green. Now I am not a chauvinistic pig, I don't bother about my wife's choice of lipstick. But it was little too much, Even for me to get a prick. "Since when did you start putting on green lipstick?" I curiously asked. "Since forever, As it is my lips natural color", she snapped. Of late we never had any banters, So I had began to enjoy our talk. "Nice joke", I continued. "But why don't you stick to red, Like any other day. And to be honest, You still look ravishing in that". My wife paused combing her hair, And looked straight into my eyes. "Red, seriously? What is that?" My wife earnestly inquired. "Red, the color of blood, the color our passion", I said with a smile. "Stop dear. Isn't green the color of our blood? Now don't increase my irritation and just drop me to the metro station", she exploded. Reluctantly I got up from my bed, Walked to the dressing mirror, To comb my hair, And have a look at my face. I glanced at my image, Same old me, With little streaks of grey. A receding hairline, Complemented by lips that were green. Green! I glanced again, Indeed my lips were green. So was my tongue. I gave out a silent scream, Disturbing my mental peace. Outside the window, I checked at our cherry blossom. All the redness in it, Too had disappeared. Replaced by a shade of dull green. What was happening? I had no idea. Had I lost my mind, Or I woke up in a different universe. Either way, There was nothing I could do. I just pretended as if, There was nothing out of the blue. (c) Anurag Talukdar

Equality// As I stood on the dried banks of the old river, The dreadful stink made me shiver. The river floor was blemished with a million pieces of litter, Plastics everywhere, Our species lasting legacy to the nature. It was a corporate outreach initiative, We had the goal to clean a small stretch of the river bed. Display to the world that equality can still be maintained, Between the nature and human progress. Plan was simple, Sweep the half a mile stretch, And segregate the wastes. Plastic to be recycled, Rest to be dumped inconspicuously elsewhere. We had to load the garbage on the five trucks standing near. Pose for photographs for the media, Enjoy a company sponsored lunch thereafter. But our plan had one major gap. To segregate the wastes, We had to first unwrap each plastic bag. Most of the volunteers then refused, As it was way more than they had signed for. Almost all were high paid MBAs, Who won't even make their own bed. And here they were expected to unwrap these stinking old garbage bags? With the local press covering the event, Our CEO was now under pressure. She couldn't let things go out of order. She decided to take the matter in her own hands. "For these young brat of employees, I will set an example that they will never forget". That's what she muttered or something like that. Lonewolf she was, As she stepped deep inside the dried river bed, With hardly any water, But uncountable stinking plastic bags. She lifted one plastic bag and started to unwrap. Media focused all the attention on her, While all the other employees cheered with loud claps. The event was live streamed across the world. Our CEO was charismatic, Her determination was bold. She removed her face mask, In the moment of her glory. The shutterbugs just went crazy. And then she glanced inside the plastic bag, That she was holding tight. All her smile disappeared, Her face distorted, And she kept screaming, With all her might. She fainted then and there, Leaving everyone else clueless. We rushed to her rescue, No, not knights in shining armour, Rescuing a lady in distress. But we were more worried about, If something were to happen to her, Who would sign our next paycheck. As we lifted her out of the dried river floor, We were delighted that she was breathing though. It was just the stink that got better of her. And when she she regained her consciousness, She couldn't eat for two days in a row. Next day all major newspapers across, Had the photograph of our unconscious CEO on the front page. With the caption- "Equality between the nature and human progress!" (c) Anurag Talukdar

Teenage Tales// Every story has a beginning, And my starts in my teenage days. This is my story, though not every word is real. I had an active imagination, The power to escape my mundane existence. I was indifferent to speeches and conversations, As I would get lost in the world of my own creation. A world where I reigned supreme, Often oblivious to the external realities. "There is something wrong with your son", my teachers would often complaint. But my parents would then calmly explain- "He is on the spectrum, And that is one of the trait. Give him some time. He will improve with age". Sadly, much slow was the progress. And hardly I had any friends. Bullied, ridiculed and ostracized, I surely felt broken and demoralized. And yes there was a girl. How can we miss that on a teenage tale? But my feelings were one sided, unstated, And obviously unrequited. What was I thinking even! But the subsequent depression was real. I was used to being ostracized, But unrequited love, hurt excruciatingly like hell. Usual comments on my report card- "His communication is poor, His grades are horrible. He can't even give eye contact And he stutters often". "What will he do,when he grows up?", My teacher would often inquire. My parents had no answer, And it used to really make me sad. I wish I could tell them, I didn't do all too bad. Three patents, two MBAs and a loving wife, More than I could have ever bargained. It all started in those dark teenage days, For a lonely boy itching to write his own tale. This is my story, though not every word is real. (c) Anurag Talukdar

Days Are Dark// It has been 93 days without the sun. We lost the electricity first, Thereafter, all forms of modern communication. What had really happened? We never understood. We had gone to sleep the night before, With promises of a brand new day for sure. And while we slept, The sun had vanished from the sky. Strangely all gadgets stopped working, No matter how hard we tried. Even the magnetic compass aligned randomly, Creating utter confusion, Not just for humans but for all the creation. The birds kept screeching in delusion. Our pets too joined them in unison. Though the insects never bothered, Nor did the other nocturnal creatures. It was dark outside, And yet we could comprehend our bleak future. Individual fears turned into mass hysteria. We looted the grocery stores, We forced open all doors. First we burnt candles, clothes and wood. After exhausting all the usual food, Next we turned to fowls and brutes. Choas reigned and all the social differences ceased. We stopped bothering about color, cult or creed. A perfect utopia! We competed with the insects, As we feasted in a wild manner. We struggled to extract some bit of flesh, As we killed our last neighbour. And then a serene satisfaction had numbed our mind. The darkness had obliterated, Our past, As we ate the children last. (c) Anurag Talukdar

Forgiveness// Forgiveness is a virtue, That you may try to inculcate. It will make you neither famous nor rich, But it surely will give you some mental peace. Life is cruel that I won't deny. And you will meet lot of brutes and fools. Some are victims themselves, But most of them have twisted roots. Some fools do regret over their actions, Albeit later. As for the brutes, They hurt you regularly for sadistic pleasure. But you must move on, Though you may have been wronged. You may be tempted to seek revenge, Scream and punch, Or plan an elaborate plot of vengeance. But is it really worthwhile? Sadly nothing will change for sure. For fools lack the ability to reason. As for the brutes, you will just add fuel to their inferno. Forgiveness is a virtue, Possessed by only the strongest of all. But revenge makes you blind, Makes you lose the purpose of your life. Revenge is wild and it may taste sweet. But it destroys your inner peace. Forgiveness on the other hand is hard, It demands lots of practice. Practice of letting go your primal fears. Practice of letting go your instant desires. Fruits of forgiveness are often invisible. But forgiveness is a virtue, And it surely will give you inner peace. (c) Anurag Talukdar

Grief// There are things I know, But far too many, I am totally unsure. Your mood for instance- In one moment you are a raging fire, And moments later a calming river. There are things I know, But far too many, I am totally unsure. Your preferences for instance- Though you are indifferent to branded pearls and strings, Yet sometimes, You will cajol me for a diamond ring. There are things I don't know, But for one thing, I am totally sure. Our love for instance- We have been through the greatest pain, May no parent should ever withstand. But we stood there for eachother, Through thick and thin forever. Just two ordinary people, Bonded for life and beyond. Just two ordinary people, Slowly sinking into oblivion. (c) Anurag Talukdar