Tyranny in Soothe Beauty
Enlightened, the man begins. Begins with an eclipse. Eclipse not of the lesser light, but the light of the lesser man.
And it was seen through by many, visible, yet not seen to.
The colours of that blotch of light become apparent to the enlightened many,
Where shades are branded by taste of prejudice and craft of meticulation.
How will those laureates associate this frame?
Or will they again politicize it to keep it one of those transient oddity,
That is so cleverly inexplicable to the expectant men?
Who under the banner of a local NGO,
Assemble the outcastes to outcry their universal red.
And strangely then,
Curse the bank for unavailibility of different groups!
Since they cannot lift up that 'thing-who-must-not-be-named,'
For they know what must not be made known,
The mystery down the rabbit hole,
To curb the genre following the widow of Solomon Bandaranaike
And daughter of Zulfikar Ali.
The very couple men and manly, become oxymoron.
Ironical though when the cult strips in front of her nanogamical bed-warmer,
With the light that is stoopingly seen.
Clouds still remain a veil for the taboo.
PS: I apologize to the victim, if any sensitive inscription I stated above, has hurt any sinsere sentiment. And unending regards to that person who considers, in his own lucid way, that "moon had always been of special interest to me!"
© Shamasis Bhattacharya (Twentyone Innovations)
Beginning What Already Begun
And if life was a flute: living then would be like air, hitting every blocked orifice till it finds a vent; and with every hit, losing an index from the exponent.
Trudging along for a long long time (in a very surreal definition of time itself,) I find that many of the frames that I imagine, fail to hit the canopy of the creative viands. Mostly so because "thoughts" by itself iareso sublime a mentation (or intellection) that mere images fail reciprocate the so-called "perifery" of the process. And that is why we are so ardent about the presence of a sixth sense.
Result? Well... few more lines! Yes. I have decided to key in a bit more of sentiments, with ofcourse the framed rudiments. And to begin it, I have resurrected my abstract's name. (I prefer calling it a abstract, than a blog.)
"Passe-partout"
Do reflect what it conveys to you (the name.) For a beginning of thing that has already begun, I will associate "short" thoughts to each frame I present. I will not go into mainstream (read: long-stream) blogging. Short, sweet and skin-friendly! ;-)
* * *
Like the rudderless wind that envys the peaceful and pre-traced life of a stream and ignores its own infinite limitlessness, this unspoken man curses his job and trudges along - though having sold more joys than just Multi-National ice-creams.
The feeling of returning (wherever who cares,) coaxes the world to fall into sludgy haze; intoxicating you more than what any inebriant can get you to. The world slowly collapses into a blurred phantasm of imagination. Dream.
In the dreamy eyes: the world seems frozen. To the world: a dreamer lies frozen.
PS: Thanks to Romit'da for accompanying me to capture the above frame.
© Shamasis Bhattacharya (Twentyone Innovations)
Bleeds When The Light
We all have heard of the greater light and the lesser light. Well, at least they had heard of it till here, in the Victorian era. And since then, besides the not-so-elusive knowledge of light, we have another form of light being thrown into the limelight... what else... nothing much, but the bulb and tubelight!
The first picture... nothing much to say about it! The same goes for the second. But, the third needs to be told about. And if the guesses were true then lets break that it is the flood-light of the Eden Gardens!
PS: All my credit goes to my dear Romit'da, who helped in his own obcynic ways to get some pictures. Even betting his life in cases!
© Shamasis Bhattacharya (Twentyone Innovations)
