Choices of Life

Barely legal then,

naughty, wild, completely insane.

college and studies,

goofing with buddies, 

part-time work,

partying hard,

smoke-booze-dope,

always broke,

life was a dream,

so was ‘HIM’

Boy next-door,

nice but poor,

tall, dark, handsome,

his smile…..winsome,

stolen looks,

behind library books,

life’s first crush,

God!! what a rush,

No facebook those times

yet communicating through eyes

Finally, out on a date,

not just fun but GREAT!!!

short of money,

ordered for his honey,

fries and coke,

sipping together…masterstroke!!!

movie in some fancy hall,

story? nope … can’t recall,

hand-in-hand, bending low,

drinking each other real slow.

yet we made no promises together

after some-time, stopped seeing each-other

different background or separate career path

no idea actually why we fell apart

Wish it had worked in a happily ever-after

home, husband, babies, love and laughter

Successful self but lost wonderful ‘We’

like a mansion built-on innocent felled-tree! 

Copyright: Shukla Banik

Poemish April 15 2016

FB Post date April 18 2016

Clay

Some fall for ruby red lips

Some for emerald eyes

Some go crazy for golden skin 

Porcelain face some epitomize

Preferences!! To each their own.

Who can tell - how they will get blown

Do you wanna know what makes me sway?

Not much - just plain old clay.

Earthy and pliable when it’s wet

Get’s really messy but I don’t fret 

I choose the cuckoo over the angelic dove 

Together we create our symphony of love.

When time for final parting looms

I don’t build any shrine or tomb

Refusing to mourn the loss of a jewel

Neither blaming nor trying to beguile

I don’t cling, cry or pine

His ‘feet of clay’ I accept, just like mine.

Yeah, I prefer clay, just as I am.

Just as I am.

If you like what I like, then please drop your email id @ happy-hours-shukla.blogspot.com

Copyright: Shukla Banik  dated: 29/5/2016

Nostalgic

When I was a child

Life was a fairy joy-ride

It was just eat, sleep and play

Carefree, happy and ‘oh-so’gay.

Boring studies, 

snoring buddies,

preaching teachers,

child beaters,

bunking classes,

spanked asses,

nice football bends,

ooh-aahing girlfriends,

Good, simple, fun-filled days

Carefree, happy and 'oh-so' gay.

When, I was a bit older,

Emotions were a bit colder,

Life was more work, less eat and sleep,

Constantly churning dough for daily upkeep.

Boring projects,

roaring bosses,

screaching clients,

unreasonable requirements,

married exes,

heaping vexes,

swindling honey, 

dwindling money,

I used to miss my childhood days!!

Carefree, happy and gay.

Now, am a ailing ancient

Quietly waiting for My Lord’s agent

Life is more pray, less eat and sleep

Only BFFs are ‘bedpan’ and ‘false teeth’

Boring pills,

piling bills,

failing heart,

constant farts,

weird fashion,

flagging passion,

hair’s gray,

it’s time to pray

I still miss my childhood days

Carefree, happy and 'oh-so' gay.

My Lord! I wish to ask you a boon

Please grant this one, before I finally swoon

Make me a child just for a day

So I can die - carefree, happy and gay. 

Copyright: 
Poem by Shukla Banik
Artwork by Pampa Banik

FB & Poemish Post date March 29 2016

Hammers of Time

When the earth was just a ball of fire

Oceanless, riverless and full of hot air

Life on earth was still an impossible distant dream

It did nothing except letting-off a lot of steam

There was one who was recording every dust and grime

It’s none other than the watchful sentinel called Time!

The proud dinosaurs were once prowling this earth

Glorious animal with an extraordinary girth

Ruled the world for millions of years

Lost all glory when it suddenly disappeared

Only one remained to witness it all

Time saw everything but refused to forestall!

Greek’s pride Alexander, was great once 

Roman’s Julius fell to the dubious Brutus

The desire to control resulted in two world wars

In the battle of titans only the minion suffers

None have escaped punishment for their crimes

There is only one constant - that is changing times.

They came, they conquered, ruled and finally left

Like an arrogant, proud, assinine comet

Mere Mortals forever striving for immortality

Power-hungry fools letting loose unbridled brutality

World eventually saw sun setting on the mightiest empire

Yet time trudged through, not allowing to tire.

Many have fantasized about building a machine

To manipulate time every information has been gleaned

In this mission they have all failed

Will anyone succeed.. guess, only time will tell

Meanwhile do some good and spread much-needed sunshine

So what, if one day you too come under the ‘Hammers of Time’ 

Copyright: Shukla Banik

FB Post date Sept 19 2015

Poemish date March 25 2016

Dark Side

I am the dark side, where fear resides
Another name is Devil, to be precise
Some say I have one eye, tail and horn
I spit and blow fire from night to morn
Don't mock me foolish earthling as this is not true
I am but a choice which duels within you. 

God gave power, wealth and fame
He also gave slavery, poverty and shame.
For every bird, animal and man
There is an 'other half' to make it whole again. 
Light and dark are two sides of 'My Lord' 
Choice is yours as to which path you shall trod. 

Money brings joy when given to needy 
Hoarding it all makes you more greedy.
If you have power give justice to unjust 
Abuse of power will only reduce you to dust. 
Fame or friendship, joy or sorrow 
Choice of today will reflect tomorrow
Life is a journey and 'My Lord' is the absolute destination 
How do you want to reach 'Him' - Annihilation or Salvation 

© Shukla Banik 

FB Post date April 22 2015

Poemish date March 25 2016

She

With a smile on her lips and pain rimmed eyes
A barely-there hips tired of walking miles
She used to be there everyday be it rain or sleet
As a maid by the day and a harlot roaming the night street.

Once she had a home, loving husband and sons
In a faraway village now razed by poverty and guns
A small patch of land her husband used to farm every year
Mounting debts and failing crops drove him to suicide out of despair!

Sons were called to avenge the death of their father
Hands used to sowing being trained to hold a gun rather
Two sons she lost in the battle for justice
Instead of her sons, she got back bullet ridden bodies!

She came to this city with her last remaining kid
For him she worked and also offered herself to every bid
Often she slept with only her shame as her cloak
But the morning brought hunger, a traitor, which continued to provoke.

Her masters were happy as she was a good maid
She was seen not heard and ever grateful for being paid
Quickly she would gulp down every morsel of the leftovers given
Even if it was stale she would eat as if hunger-driven.

She worked and worked ignoring much pain and strife
Hoping to save some money to go back to her old life
But the demon of poverty refuses to let her go
Greed of mankind delivered repeated blows.

She lost her home to make way for an upscale market
Her son she lost to an overseas job racket
Now old, frail and a beggar she is sleeping on the street
One dark night she came under the wheel of a drunk rich kid.

Yes, there were protest and candle-march with media coverage
Genuine remorse, automated lip-service or to establish emerging political image
This is a story of a stranger living in a strange town
The story is often heard but no one gives a fig deep down.

Today the kid is out of jail and the media has moved on
Before she was dying everyday and now she is finally gone
In this unfeeling world she never had a moment of ease
Now in her death, My Lord, please let her truly rest in peace. 

© Shukla Banik  

FB Post date Sept 17 2015

Poemish date March 25 2016

Accident

A dark cold night blinded by thick white mist, 

Am driving down the street, feeling absolutely pissed.

At that time he took a turn too fast, or was my reflexes slow?

Brake, skid, tyre burn - tree by my side felt the full blow. 

“Quickly send an ambulance” a shaken voice was saying,

“God, please show some mercy” the voice kept on praying.

My chest felt tight like a stone and I can hear a distant moan,

While floating from dark to light, between known and unknown.

“My mother is ill" the voice said, "was hurrying to call a Doc”

I tried very hard to remember, when last I have seen my mom.

On my eighteenth birthday, the day I stormed out of her home.

“Stop running my life for me, I want to live alone”

From that day onwards, I have not called her once

Will surely call her now, if only I get that chance.

Dunno how she fared in life, whether she lived or died,

In her retirement home, with her memories all archived.

I am forty-two today to her eighty-seven,

Will she ever forgive me, when I finally reach heaven. 

“Wife is expecting our first child” voice said “this very month rather.

I want to hold the child in my arms and be a hands-on father.

Ambulance will be here soon, try to breathe slowly.

I am praying for you now, don’t give-up so easily.”

I too remembered having a wife, thirteen-years of marriage,

My burning need for an heir, left her with many miscarriage.

Thinking it’s all her fault, I took to booze and lovers,

My bretrayal hurt her so much that she hanged her with bed covers.

I am forty-two today to her thirty-seven

Will she ever forgive me, when I finally reach heaven.

Blare of heaven’s bell, I hear, are coming from near or far?

White-clothed angel, oh-so gently, pulled me in a comfy stretcher.

They felt my head, they felt my ribs, they felt my arms and legs,

It should hurt but strangely though, I felt only numbing effect.

Feeling fit I rise above, in a puff of white-gray smoke,

That moment I felt strangely light, my senses fully awoke.

A crumpled-mangled body like mine, was lying on blood soaked-ground,

A badly shaken man by its side, was making awful choking sound.

I died at age forty-two without sorting my personal hell,

Never will I get to say “sorry” as I hear my own death bell!! 

Copyright: Shukla Banik

Posted in Poemish: April 9th 2016

Posted in Facebook: April 12 2016

Death

Today morn I was walking by

the bookstore from where I generally buy

latest bestsellers or day’s newspaper

Saw an ad by our Creator

on the shiny new window pane

Words that are so insane

boldly written in black and gray

“Join us!! Death is recruiting today”

Breaking news: 2 killed and 5 injured 

due to a freak fire in bookstore!!

Scared, I ran as fast as I could

towards the metal concrete wood

desktop, laptop, fax and copier

a familiar place where I felt safer

my work, my client, my boss, my team

seat of power - my office cabin

A letter on the desk in bold black and gray

said “Join us!! Death is recruiting today”

Breaking news: an unidentified man died

due to malfunctioning of the lift that he plied

I ran again, now straight to my home

where my garden was in full bloom

awashed with flowers, all in white

colour of peace, colour of light

my sofa, my rug, bone-china and bed

exclusive, embroidered, priceless bed-spread

A message on the TV in bold black and gray

announced “Join us!! Death is recruiting today” 

Breaking news: robbers shot a man

whose unexpected arrival at home thwarted  their plan

Now no place to go, no place to hide

just bidding my time, petrified

It’s time to return to the place of God

as a fugitive of death, heaven’s outlaw

Your sun, your moon, your world, your soul

I am just a fraction to your complete whole

Misguided we fight, till our last breath

lest we are recruited by the dreaded Death

This body is a means not an end

Given to rise above, to transcend.

This awakened soul now awaits your loving embrace

Take me!!  I finally surrender to Death’s kind face.

Amen.

Copyright: Shukla Banik (May 22nd. 2016)

Road

Dear Loving Road,
Take me to your permanent abode?
Place where you eat, sleep and rest
Place where you unwind when stressed
Need that address or the area code
As I wish to live beyond this road.

A place where everyone is anyone’s friend
A place where they love not to pretend
Where no one is hungry, no one is in pain,
no one is caged by societal constrain
Where no one will mock, no one will goad
no will slay you with sharp verbal sword

Constantly travelling from city to city
Getting dragged into every nitty-gritty
Journeying aimlessly to establish our name
When quest for ‘Moksha’ should be our only aim
Foolishly surrounded by every luxurious mode
We have forgotten the less-travelled road.

Years I have spent, trying to decode
the way to that place, that heavenly abode
Searched all cities, researched all scrolls
Fake, flawed, incomplete with many loopholes
Awaken my knowledge, sharpen my sight
Dear Road (within)!! please guide me to Eternal Light

Copyright: Shukla Banik (19/5/2016)
First published date (May 5th 2016)

अच्छे दिन

ऎसा अक़सर मेरे साथ क्युँ होता है ?

सोचा कुछ था पर हो कुछ और जाता हैं 

माँ बाप ने बड़े चाव् से मुझे स्कूल भेजा 

अपने सारे अरमानो का गला घोंट बेवजह 

हम फिर भी न समझे उनकी यह बलिदान 

बचपन गवां दी बनके यूँ नादान 

जब सोचा अब कुछ काबिल बन जाए 

पढाई ख़त्म कर ली पर अच्छे दिन नहीं आये 

नौकरी मिली तो पर्याप्त धन नहीं मिला 

पैसा मिला तो सही औधा नहीं मिला 

जब मिला सब तो नियत बिगड़ गई 

अपने स्वार्थ की पूर्ति में साड़ी उम्र बीत गई 

आज ज़िंदा हैं पर ज़िंदादिली गवांया   

बस यही कहते रहे के अच्छे दिन नहीं आया 
तो सुन ऐ कबीरा सच्ची ये मन की बात 
है बहुत ज़रूरी तू बाँध ले कसके गाँठ 
समय हैं सबसे बलबान, समय हैं सबसे कठोर 
जो मिले ख़ुशी तुझे आज, तो वाहे फैला के बटोर 
यह बात तुझे यहाँ कोई ना समझाएगा 
अच्छा इंसान बन, अच्छे दिन ज़रूर आएगा 

Copyright: Shukla Banik

The Lion King

Hello and welcome to happy hours with Shukla once again. Let me start by thanking everyone who have taken time out of their busy schedule to read the ramblings of an old woman.  Your support and encouragement means a lot.  So, here is another one - kindly tighten your seat belts and ENJOY the ride!!

This is a sequel to ‘God’s Googly’.   I was working with Mentor, an engineering firm, when I got an interview call from a start-up company called Mr. Moneybags (MMB).  MMB was the brain-child of Mr. Benjamin Fernandes, who was also its CEO.  He had a reputation of turning ideas into profitable business ventures.  Interview was fixed for Saturday, 9.30 a.m. at their office.  It was a junior-assistant level position for Dy. CEO’s office.  

I reached their office with 15 minutes to spare.  Reception was just a small ordinary looking desk with one chair for the receptionist and two chairs for visitors.  Every inch of that desk (and part of the floor) were filled with courier packets, stationary items, boxes, etc.  A rather petite girl with messy-curly hair was sitting cross-legged on the carpeted floor shifting through these items.  She was oblivious to either my presence or the constant ringing of the phone.  I cleared my throat to grab her attention.  When the attempt failed, I said, “Excuse me, my name is Shukla Banik.  I am here to meet Shonali”.  Still without looking up, she said “You are early.  Shonali is not in office yet.” and waved me towards the visitor’s area.   

I had developed a huge chip on my shoulder after working with Mentor.  My behaviour was no different from an upstart city-slicker visiting a village for the first time. From my perch, the whole floor was visible which looked ordinary and congested.  My workstation at Mentor seemed palatial compared to the workstations at MMB.  Only remarkable thing in that floor was the spiral staircase.  Marble topped-steps with wrought iron railings rising majestically from the deep abyss to higher echelon, somehow stirred my romantic soul. 

There was a closed room behind the reception from where a low growling sound was coming intermittently.   After sometime employees started trickling in.  The MMB’s staff were their biggest marketing strategy.  If one needed any motivation to overachieve, then this was it. My starved eyes feasted on the young, hip and drool-worthy crowd. Some were quite interesting and worthy of being tagged.  Mr. Monroe - the all-white guy, Ms. Dhinchak - the bright-glittery dress girl, Mr. Fair & Lovely - the peach’n’cream complexion guy, Mr. Show-off - one who spent considerable time outside fixing his flawlessly done hair and clothes, Mr. Shades, Mr. Singer, etc. etc.  

Finally the call came for me to go upstairs for the interview. With marble flooring and bigger workstations, this floor was better than the ground floor.  I met Shonali/HR and Sumit/ Dy. CEO. They asked me few questions  on my current job role, challenges, expectations and reason for job change.  Their satisfied expression to my response was proof enough that I have prepared well for the interview.  After sometime they asked me to wait at the visitor’s area.  

I was relaxing at the visitor’s area confident of bagging the job, when I heard the growling sound again.  This time it was more pronounced and clear.   From my vantage point, I first saw a head full of salt-n-pepper hair, then an angry handsome face and finally a lithe 6 ft. something body which came springing up the spiral staircase.  The owner of the growling sound in flesh and blood.  The way he carried himself left me in no doubt that this is THE Mr. Fernandes.  I promptly nicknamed him ‘The Lion King”.

He noticed me straight-away inspite of being in deep discussion with a man in red t-shirt.  With a piercing stare and a slight stretching of lips, he asked me “Hi, waiting for someone”.  His stare paralysed me and his smile (or was it a grimace) sent a chill down my spine.  I felt like the deer staring transfixed at the oncoming headlights.  “Shhhhonali”, came my croaking response with great difficulty.  Nodding he walked off, growling again about poor numbers to Mr. Red.  

I had no idea I was holding my breath till the air came out in a sudden rush.  I couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding.  Well!! I was right in feeling that way.  He came back and headed straight to where Sumit and Shonali were in a huddle.  What they discussed became apparent when Shonali came to give the usual line “we will call you back”.  

I went back to working for Mentor/Azhar.  Meanwhile,  MMB  advertised for the same vacancy in the newspaper, which effectively killed my last hope of getting the job.  A month passed in which I often wondered what ticked him off about me. Finally, the god of destiny smiled on me.  Shonali called to check if I am still interested.  I said “yes”.

My first day at MMB came too quickly.  My workstation was allocated at the 1st floor.  There were a total of three floors.  1st floor belonged to the white-collared gentry and their minions, ground floor for public dealings and basement for the rest of the support staff.  Shonali introduced me to everyone on the floor.  Cabins were allocated to the heads of the department.  The minions were Brajesh, Vipul, Abhay, Sutirtho, Angel, Shonali and now me.  They had a cool way of calling everyone with a shortened version of their name.  So, Shukla became Shuks like Braj, Vips, Abs, Sutta, Angie and Shona.  

Braj (whom I preferred to call - Brat), was a slim guy with a naughty smile.  He was my immediate neighbour.  Vips and Abs were in his team.  Shonali and Suthirtho were in the same team.  Angie was attached to LK’s office.  ‘MMB’ians believed in hollering rather than talking over phone or within closed doors.  Noise level used to vary from floor to floor but not a single floor can qualify as a silent zone.  Yet, noise was not my main concern, Brat (I nicknamed Braj) was. 

His was an untidy workstation with papers daily spilling over to my side disrupting my otherwise organized desk.  Also, he had a weird habit of jumping out or crashing into his seat whenever he felt excited.  His ooh-la-la moments were responsible for quite a few mini quakes at my workstation.  But it was the constant flow of filthy words, next to my delicate pink ear, which was driving me nuts.  Whether he was glad, mad or sad, someone’s kin (female ones) were always in trouble. I talked about guys swearing in the office to Shonali one day.  She looked positively delighted,  saying “cool gang, no.”  I quickly changed the topic.  

Once during a call, in between fits of laughter, he kept cussing for full 10 minutes.  Unable to handle it any longer, I walked towards Sumit’s office on the pretext of delivering some packet.  He was sitting with one of the support staff from the basement.  He seemed extremely agitated so I started retracing my steps.  That is when I heard it clearly - words suspiciously similar to the one my neighbour was uttering.  I went back to my seat, silently counting to ten. 

One week passed very quickly.   Monday morning, I walked into the office early and so did LK, after a week’s holiday.  I was on full alert expecting an ambush anytime. That week passed very slowly with both of us turning early, greeting each other and then nothing. Yet, I refused to let my guard down.  

Gradually, he started asking my help for mundane stuff such as the coffee machine, photocopier or fax machine.  Sometimes, he would even ask me to connect him to someone urgently without giving the phone number.  I used to dread being noticed by him.  All my efforts to merge with the desk, computer or the chair used to fail miserably.  In my mind’s eye, it was a ploy to weaken my guard for the final kill.  The anticipation of the final slaying kept me on tenterhooks for days.  I was not sure which one would be more difficult to handle, the anticipation or the ambush.  

If I was tired of LK’s silent psychological game, I was fed-up with Brat’s cussing diarrhoea. During this time, Sutirtho sent a mail to LK and the department heads requesting for a meeting.  Everyone turned up except LK, who erroneously went to the branch office.  He came back only after receiving a frantic call from Angel.  I remember working on some report when I heard the ROAR.  A full-throttled roar with filthier-than-filthy cuss words. He was verbally tearing Sutirtho into pieces.  Sutirtho tried to explain his side many times but couldn’t get a word in edgewise.    Eventually, he calmed down when Angel showed him the mail.  

Afterwards, everyone went back to their respective work.  Everyone except me and Sutirtho.  While Sutirtho was silently licking his wounds,  I rushed to the ladies room to splash water on my heated face.  Azhar’s  note seemed really tame compared to what I just witnessed.  I felt truly sorry for Sutirtho.  But more than that I felt sorry for the entire mother/sister clan - for being unnecessarily martyred everytime someone was off their rocker. My perception that cussing was just a male phenomena died a natural death, when I heard even girls cussing with equal aplomb.  So, I followed the old saying “when in Rome do as Romans do”.  But that is another story for another day.  Let’s get back to the story of the day.

LK used to take frequent power walks across the office. From lazy supervisor to overworked staff, unclean toilets to unattended visitors - nothing used to escape his notice.  Justice used to be metted out in true western style - swiftly and almost always, quiet ruthlessly. His unpredictable and often mercurial nature left everyone gasping for air.  Once, an employee started spending a lot of time at office.  There used to be mails from his ID at odd hours of the night.  Instead of patting his back, LK decreed that everyone should finish their work on time or face power shut-down.  He involved the department heads for adherance of the same.  Nobody knew why but many joked saying it is to stop employees from spending the night at office due to power cuts at home.

Each day with LK was a revealation of some sort.  Once Angel went on a planned one-day leave.  She tried to organize outside assistance during her absence but he refused.  Next day, he plied me with work leaving me floundering for background details.  Left with no choice I kept calling Angel again and again, thus, effectively ruining her day off.  Another time, he casually asked for my typing speed. “100 w.p.m.” I replied.  “That’s really awful” and off he went. 

A tragedy struck my family around this time.  The loss was unexpected and we were in mourning for quite sometime.  Eventually, I joined back.  Somehow, LK got to know about the incident and called me to his office.  I was not ready to talk but I lacked the strength to  refuse.  He understood my reluctance and started talking about other things.  Eventually, trying desperately not to breakdown, I told him what happened.  At the end, he offered no condolences.  Just a squeeze of my limp hand.  That’s all.  Yet, the gesture was much more than any condolences I ever received.  That incident changed my perception of LK.  

Soon six months passed and I became a confirmed employee of MMB.  Slowly and steadily, my chips were chipping away and my prudish walls were crumbling away.    My equation with Brat improved immensely.  We started having real conversations minus cuss words.  Surprisingly, he was quiet good at it. I started making friends within the office.  LK was upto his usual antics.  He would compliment my worst dress one moment and next moment pull the rug from under my feet by giving me some work without explaining anything about it.  Yet, there was a difference.  I was a whole lot less pricklier than before.

The day eventually came when he parted ways with MMB to start a new venture.  His farewell party was a grand affair.  He danced throughout the night.  His eyes were full of pride for the legacy he was leaving behind and sad because, from here on, he walks alone.  No, not completely alone - he would always have the love, respect and the best wishes of ‘MMB’ians as his true earning. Many CEOs came after him and went away, but nobody came even close to Mr. Benjamin Fernandes, the legendary Lion King of MMB. God Bless him!!


Bye for now.  Hope you enjoyed the story. 

Copyright: Shukla Banik