The last few passengers hopped on catching their breaths with a huff and a puff and taking the remaining seats where they could, while handling their bags in one hand and their mufflers and hats with the other. It was just an ordinary day for them. A day when work and reaching their office on time was the only thing they could think about. A day when half their time on the launch was spent worrying if the Tiffin box packed so lovingly by their wives toppled over to create a mess. A day when they couldn't stop and stare. A day when materialism came before appreciating nature’s beauty.
Kolkata woke up one fine chilly morning to a sky set ablaze. There was always something about Kolkata and its lights that intrigued me. The perfection with which every corner was lit just as much as it should be, the hidden eye candy which could only be seen if you look into your soul to appreciate. Worshipers from all over flocked to the ghats to offer their prayers. And with the mindless honking of the city behind them and the open river in front, they dipped themselves in continuously to be forgiven of their sins. As they lifted their folded hands above their heads to pray and dipped themselves, they made the water all around them make huge ripples which were lost in the vastness of the mighty river. And with that, they were forgiven of their wrong doings, or at least that’s what they believed.
The engines roared to life as one of the crew, miserably opened the ropes and threw them on board after ringing a bell. I stood in one corner of the launch eyeing Kolkata, taking every bit of it in - its morning awakening, its old red bricked buildings, or at least the ones which still stood straight, its ghats green with moss and over crowded with devotees, its icy cold winter morning, and the current of the river beneath the launch floor. Kolkata had woken up to one of the coldest days in recent history. 9 degrees and the wind was up. On the Ganga it felt as if I had come away to some faraway land, away from the hustle and bustle of the city, to find peace.  Silence surrounded me and the only sound faintly audible was the low whistle of the breeze brushing past my cheeks kissing them which felt like tiny needles poking me all at once.
The water looked like liquid glass, floating away to infinity and beyond, as far as my eyes took my vision. As the launch turned to face its destination the Howrah Bridge came into view. Standing tall with its two gigantic pillars the sun peeped from between the cables to shine on the water creating a river of gold while the sun’s reflection seemed a ball of fire just within our reach.  The bridge cast huge shadows causing a sudden darkness to arise in the water which otherwise seemed ablaze.  

Across the river the world waiting for me felt distant. Was civilization actually that beautiful? Or did nature just wrap its covers around to hide the flaws of mankind, his ruthlessness, his ignorance towards other beings and its lack of humanity? The dashes of green popped out of the corners of towering buildings, as sun cast its golden rays on them creating shadows on the opposite side.
The small boats sailed on as the launch took me from bank to bank. The rowers sat at the back on the edge with their rows half immersed in the water. And as the currents made them flow by, the ripples came and hit our launch and travelled back into the vastness and disappeared. They sailed through the disturbed water, and its shadows sailed alongside. The rivers serenity was contrasted with the blobs of weed floating by, entangled with driftwood and mixed with shiny cloths, probably the leftovers of the previous durga puja celebrations.
The sky was a game of colors by now. The sun, still a ball of fire, was slowly creeping upwards, the light grey clouds just behind it shot rays of gold down through the gaps they found on the world below, the sky otherwise was a play of grey, blue, red and orange set in order from the ground upwards without a definite point of distinction. A group of three birds, crows most probably, flew overhead enjoying the sun’s late arrival to the cold morning.
My hands reached for the railing. I gripped the rods tightly looking for security. I looked around me to spot the different lives sailing with me. Some on their phones, some sat with their eyes glued to the cold blank floor, as if they didn’t deserve to be uplifted by nature’s display of her beauty, some staring down at their watches to scrutinize each second to realize how late there were while others stood with a blank expression staring out onto the river, probably going over what they did wrong, playing the images on repeat, making themselves miserable. Me? I stood leaning on the railing looking out also. But I wasn’t in my misery. My misery was behind me. I looked forward to life. And for now I looked forward to my destination. And amongst the crowd I was alone. This was my moment and mine alone. No one could have robbed me of this moment, and no one can make me forget.  
The river gave me peace of mind. Its tranquility and its continuity made an energy of constancy flow within me. A belief that this too shall pass, that every moment shall pass. Never ending was its path. A path which life had chosen. Who are we to disrupt it? Who are we to stop? Life flowed on. And times were not always smooth sailing. There will be waves rocking you, making you lose your balance, there will be rocks at the bottom, sometimes holding you together while other times damaging your base. With time and distance the river will get polluted, but it all depends on what you want to show and what you choose to see. It will be used, to its maximum capacity, with only a handful of souls to stop and think about it and do something about it to the best of their abilities. Things varying in all sizes will cross it, sail by without paying any heed to the water beneath it making them sail smoothly, never appreciating it, and soon it becomes a part of them which they pay no attention to it. It will always be there though. Its existence will always prevail over it being ignored. And when you stop to think, it’ll be there pushing you along the way, to your destination, where you will have to say goodbye to the picture perfect moments, the soul touching feelings and the voice within you which screams in its silence to set yourself free.

Yes its something i scribbled here and there a long time ago

A dark night dawned upon us as i found myself on a little boat decorated with little lights and me and my heart throb stood facing the wide open sea. we didn’t speak. didn’t move. didn’t blink. i soaked the sweet smell of the sea and let the wind into my hair. then we slowly climbed into the ice cold waters. we looked into each other’s eyes and just stayed as we were. an invisible element slowly but gradually pulled us apart and no matter how much i tried swimming, my body was possessed by the unknown.
he drifted apart, away and in the dark, desolate night, and i found myself at sea. with no one to save me.

i woke up to find myself on the floor near the entrance of my house door. my eyes were heavy with dried tears and my body ached. i felt empty, hollow, like something was missing.

yes. the boy i loved was a nightmare to me. just like every other nightmare, you end up either screaming or crying.

sleepless nights are more preferred to than this, don't you think?

today
a girl
tried to say
that i looked
like an elephant
as if to suggest
i were quite hideously fat
i told her
that elephants
are adorable
and that at least
I'M cute
maybe to the world
i am an elephant
i don't care
i just wish
sometimes
i guess
that elephants
could
forget

Sitting at the bar talking about poetry.
Talking about the girl I want to look at me.
Hold up my hands as if those thoughts were fire
Burning me from the inside out, just had to get it all out.

"I met her for the one night, and I've been writing about her ever since"
Then she looked at me and just said "Wow".
I wanted to smile but I felt just dirty.
These are my true feelings and I don't want share them with you.

Hold up the time for me I can't see it through this mask.
My head hangs low and stitches are bleeding.
I want to fall in love with this girl, so I write and hope she'll read it one day.
Now I am alone, high as fuck, totally drunk on that idea.

She was sitting there in her grey cardigan and self-satisfaction
And she said, "They're going to be putting a cap and gown on a chair for him."
And I said, "That makes me so sad. It makes me think of our 8th grade graduation.
Oh god. That makes me so sad." picturing a freshly ironed gown for a dead graduate

It was a few minutes later and the kettle began to whistle
And someone made some smart remark about some stupid topic
And I sighed and I said, "I just can't do it"
And she said, "Jeez, you’re just lacking emotional maturity today”
I excused myself and avoided her for the remainder of the day

I found myself a few people I might consider my friends (if anyone)
I sat down for a minute and said, "I just can't do it"
And the one turned his cigarette-yellowed teeth to me and said,
"They just aren't as cynical as you, huh?"
And I looked him in the eye and he smiled, meant nothing by it
Maybe just, "Shut up, will you? Just breathe for a minute"
And the other, with his slicked back hair and Tom Waits voice
Said, "Not everybody can be a female Louis C.K."
And I smiled and said, "Screw you"
Then I excused myself

And I found myself a quiet corner where I could collect the pieces enough
To hold myself together for two hours of calculated performance
Until I could go home
And quietly fall apart again

We both found out simultaneously, coincidentally and instantaneously
Because when I saw him look into your eyes, right away I knew.
When he looked back at me, he knew.
When you looked at me, you knew.
And the pain in the pit of my soul dripped down to my stomach that then threatened so gratingly to let its contents out, as if smugly pronouncing that I was hollow, and I was.
The tears came in a hasty abundance and the words in an unfocused cluster and I attacked you.
And you were in the same state as I, but it was you whom my abrupt eyes saw fit to take blame.
It was you whom he used as a weapon to hurt me, and I know that guns don’t kill people, but at that moment I was ready to disassemble you, barrel, muzzle and grip because it was your trigger that was pulled when the bullet shot through my heart and I didn’t want to think about the shooter.
I didn’t want to think that he would hurt me.
I was used as a target by him and you would be used as a target by me
Because there is nothing easier than blaming those you don’t love, blameless as they may be.

First day of 8th grade sex-ed class,
Sitting awkwardly beside you in my seat.

Closing our math binders in sync,
The health teacher strides in.

"Take out your folders class!" a loud voice booms,
I scramble to find it.

Taking out blank paper to write notes,
The teacher launching into a fast paced lecture.

"Thistopicisveryimportantblahblahnolaughingblah--"
Losing track of the words I stop and look to your sheet and copy,

To only see you have written one word--your name.
You notice me looking as I smirk at you.

I try to hold in the giggles,
Even though it isn't funny.
You reacting the same way.

I look up and catch your eye and I feel my tummy doing turns,
Why do you do this to me?

You look like your blushing but I couldn't tell as we both looked away,
Do I make you feel the same way?

We mirror movements without noticing it,
Life isn't making much sense to me.

I slump in my seat already bored of this lesson and let my hands hang loose,
I then realize how close to you I am your warm breath blowing down my neck.

I can feel you look at me,
Me wavering under your gaze.

You do something surprising,
You slip your fingers through mine under the desk,
Hidden away from view.

I feel myself panicking my breath coming out faster,
Blushing like a cherry red tomato.

I readjust my grip reassuringly squeezing your hand in a friendly gesture.
They say your first love never lasts.

But a girl can dream.

The world around me
Was getting on harder.
So I leapt on the rails,
To become a loved martyr.

But had I known then,
That the train would run late,
I’d have looked at the schedule,
And waited ‘till eight.

What should have been screaming,
Was instead uproarious laughter.
They left me to die,
And took pictures long after.

So now here I lie,
Broken boned on the track.
I hear the harsh laughter,
And wish time would turn back.

The world around me
Is getting on worse.
As I wait for the train,
I just whisper a curse.

Goddammit.

My X kicked me back here, to my home town
I thought it was his greatest revenge
Every crack in the sidewalk was a painful reminder
of the years of silent suffering with a smile pasted across it
I call growing up and
as I'd the therapy habit now, begun in LA and
reinforced and practiced in New York in the Therapist infested Island of
Manhattan
I got one here, and strange things started happening and
the sand of the filthy beaches started to sing to me and
my old high school looked like a pleasant nursery
and I started to groove here again,
feel strong here again like I'd never had
and I learned to love
my home town
after 500 years of therapy

I went to school today.

Everyone seemed to walk through me.

My words were unheard by any.

My actions were left unnoticed.

I walked up to you today.

I looked you straight in the eye.

You looked back but you saw through me.

You walked and you went inside of me.

My body dissolved for a second.

It went back to shape.

That is when I noticed I died.

It came to me like a dream.

I really was murdered last night.

The machete that I held went through my heart.

My ghost is still here.

I am meant to finish my time on earth.

I have to get you to notice me and fall in love with me.

How do I do this now that I am dead as well as invisible?

Nothing is impossible I guess.