Life and Lies of M R Maiti

Far away from intruding eyes, The ritual begins. For one last smoke, We light the flame. Cherishing a moment's peace Before the bitter end, We inhale the toxic fumes To exhale a heartfelt goodbye. The smoke ascends To form a swirling mist, Painting a picture Of good times gone by. The flame goes out. The smoke clears away. A beginning comes to an end. We go our separate ways. *** Dedicated to a friend.

It was one of those days when it felt like it was going to rain but it did not; a day when all outdoor pursuits are put on hold because no one knows the will of those flying water canisters. The dark grey clouds had been playing hide and seek with the Sun the entire day. Come evening, there was a flash of lightning followed by thunder. It only increased the anticipation. The children of the buffalo men gathered in the street. Following their lead, the streets poured with adamant children who had successfully evaded the watchful eyes of their parents. Their heads turned to the sky, their excitement poured from their eyes. They had already choreographed their dance in their minds. But, the rain didn’t come. The clouds were holding themselves back, waiting for one last attendee. A certain someone who once used to be the first to greet the clouds when they arrived by rushing to the terrace at the first sound of thunder. She now stood under the awning, looking at the clouds, having last tho...

Nitin closed his eyes and dived backwards. It had been a while, but the muscle memory kicked in. He started floating in the water. Slowly, he locked his hands below his head and regulated his breathing. When he opened his eyes, he could see a full moon hanging in the clear night sky. A weekend away from the city with his closest friends was something he needed. The farmhouse was spacious and aesthetically pleasing and most importantly, he could cool off in an outdoor swimming pool while listening to music and eating barbequed food. Though his ears were submerged, he could still hear Neil and Mukesh over the music. But as he drifted to the far side of the pool, their voice grew distant until he could hear them no more. He closed his eyes and in the stillness of the night, a thought crossed his mind. He had once read somewhere that a clean river has no fish. What did it mean? It must have a figurative meaning because it didn't seem scientifically accurate. Or maybe the quote was emph...

I trudged uphill With cautious steps. Couldn't tell, How deep Ran the snow. I'll certainly be lying if I ever say I don't find comfort In the panic. Up in the air And under the moonlight, A glowworm chased A butterfly. The summit was Well within my sight. All I had to do was Maintain my pace Until the first glint Of the morning light. Not the backpack, Some thoughts Weighed me down. This path has been walked By thousands more. What is it that I'm doing That hasn't been done before? The Sun will rise On schedule With or without my presence, Then set again. *** Liked what you read? Leave a comment.

She was a pretty girl. He was a stupid boy. And they had a thing In their salad days. Then he chose to leave, Lured by ambition And the wonders of the world. He couldn't help it. He was born this way, Itching to wander After a brief stay. The unknown was exciting. The familiarity eventually faded away. The dingy lanes made way For concrete pavements. He traded his cozy home For a rented apartment. Then wandered around, Beyond the serene blue lake Surrounded by the dewy meadow, Past the fiery blossoms Under the moonlight glow, Through the deserted lands, Through the wintry snow, Always carrying along her fragrance Wherever he chose to go. However, upon his return, When he met her, A sad realisation Slowly crept up on him. She was a pretty woman. He was a stupid man. And they had nothing. His chapter had ended in her story. And when he bid her goodbye, He saw himself Receding in her eye, Wishing to become heartless To avoid living with a broken heart. *** Liked what you read? Leave a...

"Have you heard about the trolley problem," asked Sheth who was sitting beside me. Yes, I had, but I did not reply right away. I looked around at unfamiliar faces surrounding me and found a mixed bag of people of Slavic, Eastern and Mongol origins. There wasn't an Indian in sight except, of course, my friend Sheth. An hour ago, he and I had landed at Almaty International Airport, Kazakhstan and were waiting for our connecting flight to Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan. There was still an hour to go and I had nothing to do. There was no internet. Our SIM cards were not of any use. We would buy the local SIM in Bishkek. I hadn't brought a book with me or downloaded any movie/TV series on my mobile. Even if I weren't shy and wanted to talk to someone, language would have failed me. Neither I knew Kazakh nor Russian. Therefore, to pass the time, I decided to humour my friend and replied, "No, I don't. Tell me." "Imagine a train moving forward on a track," h...

"Who's the baby?" "She's my niece. I have loads of cousins and by extension, a lot of nephews and nieces." "It's a nice picture." "Thanks. You cannot imagine what was going through my mind while I was holding her." "Can I guess?" "Sure, why not." "She’s so cute you could eat her." "Haha... obvious guess, but, no. I was thinking about the theory of Twin Paradox." "Interesting. Care to explain." "In Twin Paradox, one of the twins goes on a space voyage and the other stays put on Earth. When he returns, he discovers that his Earth-bound counterpart has aged considerably compared to him. I do not have a twin. Nor do I have a vehicle capable of space voyages. But I do live away from my hometown and normally return after long intervals. This time, on my return, I found out that one of my nieces I once used to rock to sleep and carry around in my arms has now become a teenager, taking se...

"Nitin, where did you get lost again," asked Mukesh. On the Saturday preceding the Diwali holidays, Neil, Nitin and Mukesh had a get-together before leaving for their hometowns. Everyone had turned up in their traditional attires. And for once, Neil looked like a civilised person without a drink in his hand. "Nothing," replied Nitin. "I was just thinking that every year, we celebrate Diwali on the eve of Lord Rama returning to Ayodhya after defeating Ravana. He went to such great lengths to rescue her wife only to exile her later whereas Sita Maiya chose to accompany him, as a dutiful wife, during an exile imposed only on him." "Not many people realise this," said Mukesh. "But the real protagonist of Ramayana is Sita Maiya, not Rama or Ravana." "That I can agree on." "Ravana had the mental might of ten brains. Still, he wasn't wise enough to let go of his ego. He ended up squandering everything because of his arroganc...