Dugga boshechhilo pa dubiye
Noukor goluiye
Char chhelemeye chhoriye chhitiye
Chhilo boshe
Nadir du pashe lokaloi janapad
Fire fire ashe,
Kothao andhokar kothao alo jwale,
Manushgulor mlan mukhe
Hashi fute othe Maa aschen bole .
Boitarani par hoye pa rakhen martye,
Sange char chhelemeye
Baba achhen anek pechhone
Martye namben kina ke jane... .....
Paye paye eshe pare thakurdalan
Boshechhilo chatale
Kato loke bale,"Dugga eyechhish ?
Tor kati holo chhelemeye ? "
Dugga heshe koi," Chhiloi tho charti
Ekhono ache sei kati..i"
Mone mone bhabe Dugga
Sara bachhor takiye thaka
Bachhorer ei din koita
Ashbo fire ei chatale
Koilashete mon tekena
Buk bhorabo
Martyaloker ei batashe.
Duhat bariye
Baper barir sobai bale
"Ay re Dugga ay re ghare,
Lakkhi Saraswati ay re tora
Ay re ay Ganesh Kartik,
Alo kore charidik."
Palake jabe chole chardin
Nabamir nishi jeno katena kakhono
Bidaikhane boli hai... ... ...
Ay re Dugga ghare ay
Bachhor bachhor ghare ay.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Monday, August 1, 2011
BHESHE JAOA
Akasher rastao ebrokhebro
Megheder gaye palok khodano
Elomelo monta thokkor khete khete
Epashe opashe jai je bheshe
Jak na bheshe, jak na bheshe
Jedike khushi
E jibon jai jodi hawai bheshe
Jak na
Paloker mato hawai bheshe
Monta jeno dikbhranto
Kotha theke shuru kothai je sesh
Porbe achhre giye paharer buke
Hatat hawar dolai dolai
Bhashte bhashte jabe alor rekhai
Jedike khushi
Jai jodi se diganta periye
Jak na
E jibon hai kato kichhu chai
Pabe ki pabena bojhena tho hai
Ichhegulo kuriye kuriye
Sajiye rakhe je moner pardai
Pabar ashai pabari ashai
Tobu mon bheshe jai ure jai
Jedike khushi
Janena jibon kiser akakhankai
Jak na
Ta se
Jak na
Megheder gaye palok khodano
Elomelo monta thokkor khete khete
Epashe opashe jai je bheshe
Jak na bheshe, jak na bheshe
Jedike khushi
E jibon jai jodi hawai bheshe
Jak na
Paloker mato hawai bheshe
Monta jeno dikbhranto
Kotha theke shuru kothai je sesh
Porbe achhre giye paharer buke
Hatat hawar dolai dolai
Bhashte bhashte jabe alor rekhai
Jedike khushi
Jai jodi se diganta periye
Jak na
E jibon hai kato kichhu chai
Pabe ki pabena bojhena tho hai
Ichhegulo kuriye kuriye
Sajiye rakhe je moner pardai
Pabar ashai pabari ashai
Tobu mon bheshe jai ure jai
Jedike khushi
Janena jibon kiser akakhankai
Jak na
Ta se
Jak na
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
FERA
Firte giye... ... ...
Pechhone takiye dekhi
Setugulo sob
Dau dau kore purchhe
Tai fera holona
Tomar dak shona sattweo.... .... ....
Pechhone takiye dekhi
Setugulo sob
Dau dau kore purchhe
Tai fera holona
Tomar dak shona sattweo.... .... ....
Friday, March 25, 2011
GAAN
Ekta ichhe bere othe moner bhetor
Hoito adhara thakbe se jibanbhor
Tabu se ichhe niyei gare jai khelaghar
Kure kure khai, ure ure jai
Chheye thake se amari antar
Shikto korona ashrute se ichhe
Bhalobashai dheke dio je take
Futbo futbo koreo foteni je ekhono
Ei ekti kuri baki ekhono fotar
Hoito konodin kono dur deshe
Kaya pabe sei ichhe
Montake niye se boshbe ekpashe
Adhara ichhe chheye thak antar
Jemon paprite lukiye thake je bhromor
Hoito adhara thakbe se jibanbhor
Tabu se ichhe niyei gare jai khelaghar
Kure kure khai, ure ure jai
Chheye thake se amari antar
Shikto korona ashrute se ichhe
Bhalobashai dheke dio je take
Futbo futbo koreo foteni je ekhono
Ei ekti kuri baki ekhono fotar
Hoito konodin kono dur deshe
Kaya pabe sei ichhe
Montake niye se boshbe ekpashe
Adhara ichhe chheye thak antar
Jemon paprite lukiye thake je bhromor
Monday, March 21, 2011
GAAN
Bolbo bolbo boleo, katha bala holona
Chhera taare kata ghuri, dol khai batashe
Sandher footpathe, kato manush ashepashe
Kolahole gopone, katha bolte parlam na
Kachhe giyeo bolbo bolbo kore bala holo na
Moner katha thake je moner majhe
Ekta damkal jai chole ghanta bajiye
Dekha holo tomar sathe, manusher bhire
Hatat dekhar bhalolagai, guitarer taar uthlo beje
Moner katha thake moner majhe, ar moner gumre othe kanna
Bolbo bolbo koreo se katha bala holona
Sandhe govir hoi sharer buke
Neoner alogulo jhimiye pare
Duto kak barandar kone neerer khoje
Anek kichhui chhilo, na bala katha
Bolbo bolbo koreo, holo na bala
Shuru holo abar, sei ekaki path chala
Chhera taare kata ghuri, dol khai batashe
Sandher footpathe, kato manush ashepashe
Kolahole gopone, katha bolte parlam na
Kachhe giyeo bolbo bolbo kore bala holo na
Moner katha thake je moner majhe
Ekta damkal jai chole ghanta bajiye
Dekha holo tomar sathe, manusher bhire
Hatat dekhar bhalolagai, guitarer taar uthlo beje
Moner katha thake moner majhe, ar moner gumre othe kanna
Bolbo bolbo koreo se katha bala holona
Sandhe govir hoi sharer buke
Neoner alogulo jhimiye pare
Duto kak barandar kone neerer khoje
Anek kichhui chhilo, na bala katha
Bolbo bolbo koreo, holo na bala
Shuru holo abar, sei ekaki path chala
SHISHIRER SABDA SHUNI... ....
Shishirer sabda shuni panjor bhed kore
Sudhu tomar katha mone kore
Kartiker heem, sada chador bichhiye,
Kare ahwavan bhikarir mato
Shuye thake mather opore
Hoitoba ekta pencha deke othe govir raate
Paye paye jege othe Mandakini
Shuni tar kal kal dhwoni
Alosh mandakranta chhande
Neme ashe himabaher ga beye
Patharer hridoy shikto kare taar nupurer nikkon
Shishirer sabda shuni panjor bhed kore
Sudhu tomar katha mone kore
Madhyanner surjo galito momer ushnata niye
Chhoriye dei ek param om shorire shorire
Prithibir samasta manusher rome rome
Avrakuchir mato chik chik kare narom aloi
Aparanhyo dhire dhire neme ashe
Jiboner khayishnuta niye; heem pare -
Shishirer sabda shuni panjor bhed kore
Sudhu tomar katha mone kore
Govir raater kaboshno uttape
Jakhon nidra joriye dhare andhokarke
Akash chhoriye thake mathar opore
Ek aparthib neel alo chheye thake
Abar ashbe jodi esho ei khane
Jioner satya udghatito habe hridayer uttape
Tup tap shishir jhore pore,
Shishirer sabda shuni panjor bhed kore
Sudhu tomar katha mone kore
Uthbe nutan surjo praner spandane
Sudhu tomar katha mone kore
Kartiker heem, sada chador bichhiye,
Kare ahwavan bhikarir mato
Shuye thake mather opore
Hoitoba ekta pencha deke othe govir raate
Paye paye jege othe Mandakini
Shuni tar kal kal dhwoni
Alosh mandakranta chhande
Neme ashe himabaher ga beye
Patharer hridoy shikto kare taar nupurer nikkon
Shishirer sabda shuni panjor bhed kore
Sudhu tomar katha mone kore
Madhyanner surjo galito momer ushnata niye
Chhoriye dei ek param om shorire shorire
Prithibir samasta manusher rome rome
Avrakuchir mato chik chik kare narom aloi
Aparanhyo dhire dhire neme ashe
Jiboner khayishnuta niye; heem pare -
Shishirer sabda shuni panjor bhed kore
Sudhu tomar katha mone kore
Govir raater kaboshno uttape
Jakhon nidra joriye dhare andhokarke
Akash chhoriye thake mathar opore
Ek aparthib neel alo chheye thake
Abar ashbe jodi esho ei khane
Jioner satya udghatito habe hridayer uttape
Tup tap shishir jhore pore,
Shishirer sabda shuni panjor bhed kore
Sudhu tomar katha mone kore
Uthbe nutan surjo praner spandane
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
JANMADIN
Tumi chan korte korte bhabbe
Ami tomar opor diye ure jachhi
Tumi ranna korte korte bhabbe
Ami tomar opor diye ure jachhi
Tumi janala diye takale
Dekhbe ami tomar opor diye ure jachhi
Jete jete tomar dikei takiye achhi
Bhabbe tumi ei tho ashbo
Dhorbo tomar gala joriye
Jodi namte na pari e dharadhame ?
Ure chole jai onyo konokhane ?
Kandbe ki tumi amar janye ?
Bhashbe ki bhalo mone mone ?
Aschhi, aschhi, ei tho elam
Eto taratari bolbo chollam ?
Nah, ta habena
Jwalabo aro kata din
Sabe tho gelo unokoti kaje
Unashat bachhor - bachhor tho noi
Jeno ek ekta din
Bhabbte bhabbtei chole jabe
Baki kata din
Ami tomar opor diye ure jachhi
Tumi ranna korte korte bhabbe
Ami tomar opor diye ure jachhi
Tumi janala diye takale
Dekhbe ami tomar opor diye ure jachhi
Jete jete tomar dikei takiye achhi
Bhabbe tumi ei tho ashbo
Dhorbo tomar gala joriye
Jodi namte na pari e dharadhame ?
Ure chole jai onyo konokhane ?
Kandbe ki tumi amar janye ?
Bhashbe ki bhalo mone mone ?
Aschhi, aschhi, ei tho elam
Eto taratari bolbo chollam ?
Nah, ta habena
Jwalabo aro kata din
Sabe tho gelo unokoti kaje
Unashat bachhor - bachhor tho noi
Jeno ek ekta din
Bhabbte bhabbtei chole jabe
Baki kata din
ANOTHER BIRTHDAY
There's a haze over the land
A fog engulfs the land... ...
One cannot see the life beyond
Yet, time... ...life... ...paasses below
At the speed of jet... ...
There's haze over life
As I see from the aeroplane.
Decades pass away... ...melt in the haze... ...
Those who ushered me in this life
Are no more... ...the fog engufed them... ...
Love is under a veil of haze... ...hazy... ...yet enticing... ...
For love's sake... ...
Or is it lonely at the end ?
There's haze over life
As I see from the aeroplane.
The sun shines, the fog lifts... ...
One can see the fires burning
Signs of life erupt at a distance
As the birthday turns for another year
In its sojourn into the future... ...totally unknown... ...
Slowly haze melts away... ...life unravels... ...
Signs of life come alive... ...
I have to walk... ...
Travel the distance... ...
Destiny is not far away
As I trudge along... ...
Time flies... ...
There's haze over life
As I see from the aeroplane.
A fog engulfs the land... ...
One cannot see the life beyond
Yet, time... ...life... ...paasses below
At the speed of jet... ...
There's haze over life
As I see from the aeroplane.
Decades pass away... ...melt in the haze... ...
Those who ushered me in this life
Are no more... ...the fog engufed them... ...
Love is under a veil of haze... ...hazy... ...yet enticing... ...
For love's sake... ...
Or is it lonely at the end ?
There's haze over life
As I see from the aeroplane.
The sun shines, the fog lifts... ...
One can see the fires burning
Signs of life erupt at a distance
As the birthday turns for another year
In its sojourn into the future... ...totally unknown... ...
Slowly haze melts away... ...life unravels... ...
Signs of life come alive... ...
I have to walk... ...
Travel the distance... ...
Destiny is not far away
As I trudge along... ...
Time flies... ...
There's haze over life
As I see from the aeroplane.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
RED – A Filmmaker’s Script
It was a summer evening of 1968. A seventeen year old lad walked along with his father to an old Calcutta building in Chittaranjan Avenue. The father worked in government department who hoped and prayed that his only son would become an engineer or doctor – as was the common dream of the middle class society of those days.
The father and son duo reached the address of their destination and walked up the flight of wooden stairs and entered the chamber of the eye surgeon. The son had qualified in the entrance test for engineering and had to get his eyes tested.
The father was pleased, the doctor was pleased to get such a patient at the start of his evening and the boy had dreams.
The doctor started the tests and ultimately opened a book of dots in front of the boy and asked him to read the numbers hidden in the dots. The boy could read some and could not the others. The doctor’s face became grim to grimmer. The father’s eyebrows twisted in anxiety, seeing the doctor’s reaction, creating a deep furrow in his forehead.
Finally, the doctor rose and faced the father. The boy realized that a verdict was imminent. It was pronounced. The father was struck by a lightning shattering all his dreams. The boy heard and took it in his stride as the first bend of the river of his life. He had been declared blind to the colour red.
Forty years later, a middle aged man was driving his car and was held up by the red light in the street crossing. His memory cut back to that early summer evening. His father had by then passed away. He has seen many bends in his life and many reds. He has seen the bunch of red roses being sold on the busy thoroughfares of metros by the small children to the motorists; he has seen the red ‘palash’ in the spring of his life fall around his feet; he has seen the red lips of the many women who tried to entice on or off the celluloid screen; the red flag of the communists; the red blood of the naxalites –thus quiet flowed the Hooghly.
Cut to dream sequence. Thirty years later. An old man lies cold on a bed. His progeny stand sombre faced around the bed. People have assembled to bid adieu. He is still wearing his spectacles of red coloured frame and his body is covered by a red blanket like that of the hospitals.
A small child – possibly his grandchild – toddles in with a bunch of red flowers and places them on his bedside.
The red of life imprisonment turns to green of freedom from life.
======================
The father and son duo reached the address of their destination and walked up the flight of wooden stairs and entered the chamber of the eye surgeon. The son had qualified in the entrance test for engineering and had to get his eyes tested.
The father was pleased, the doctor was pleased to get such a patient at the start of his evening and the boy had dreams.
The doctor started the tests and ultimately opened a book of dots in front of the boy and asked him to read the numbers hidden in the dots. The boy could read some and could not the others. The doctor’s face became grim to grimmer. The father’s eyebrows twisted in anxiety, seeing the doctor’s reaction, creating a deep furrow in his forehead.
Finally, the doctor rose and faced the father. The boy realized that a verdict was imminent. It was pronounced. The father was struck by a lightning shattering all his dreams. The boy heard and took it in his stride as the first bend of the river of his life. He had been declared blind to the colour red.
Forty years later, a middle aged man was driving his car and was held up by the red light in the street crossing. His memory cut back to that early summer evening. His father had by then passed away. He has seen many bends in his life and many reds. He has seen the bunch of red roses being sold on the busy thoroughfares of metros by the small children to the motorists; he has seen the red ‘palash’ in the spring of his life fall around his feet; he has seen the red lips of the many women who tried to entice on or off the celluloid screen; the red flag of the communists; the red blood of the naxalites –thus quiet flowed the Hooghly.
Cut to dream sequence. Thirty years later. An old man lies cold on a bed. His progeny stand sombre faced around the bed. People have assembled to bid adieu. He is still wearing his spectacles of red coloured frame and his body is covered by a red blanket like that of the hospitals.
A small child – possibly his grandchild – toddles in with a bunch of red flowers and places them on his bedside.
The red of life imprisonment turns to green of freedom from life.
======================
Thursday, January 6, 2011
KOBITA
Prithibir seshe ek masreen upatyaka
Niche ghashful ar opore
Sonali butibhora kalo akash
Shuye achhi amra
Ek nar o nari
Moithun khelai rato ek saap o saaapini
Janmo dei swapner
Anubhabito hoi ek ascharja proshobbyatha
Niche ghashful ar opore
Sonali butibhora kalo akash
Shuye achhi amra
Ek nar o nari
Moithun khelai rato ek saap o saaapini
Janmo dei swapner
Anubhabito hoi ek ascharja proshobbyatha
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