These days, boy, there is, no set route,
Follow the life,honestly,thats the fruit!

aged 14 they took me to this place

first thoughts when they took me

i was going to my grave

needles from which id never awake

police took me fully restained

i walked though the door

what **** i aint mad

you got this wrong

its normal what these voices are saying

now

im nursed in my room

vallys and olazapine

daze and confused

every bit of energy

is to fight and refuse

now im thinking

all day how am i getting back

i need my fix





from four days

i told them openup

the

window and second floor dow

n dropped to knees

now im struggling now

how am i gunna wal

k i need to sit down

thats the thing

about my frst time each voice of this psychosis there was nothing

that was wrong with me

n my thoughts were sound
Enter
You sent
still not understanding
but their circling

around aint taking thses ******* meds

are they ******* mad im sane im sane
******* listen

i aint being ******* restarined
first guy that tries
i wont hestate
i have a shard of glass
i was hoping to save
Enter
You sent
now their surrounding
me
now and its all getting tense
no idea which way to face now

then boom down
injection,s placed
room spinning out
i'm losing focus
the voices are easing but never will they leave one eye open one eye shut
    in to the deepest endless sleep im falling i'm falling waking up nightmares
i'm waking up
in cold sweats overwhelmed with stress without warning

Dear Readers, thses are my few old memories of Calcutta from my early childhood days, after having reached the milestone on the road side reading 77.  Hope you like it ! Best wishes, - Raj, New Delhi.

REMINISCENCE OF A SENIOR SEPTUAGENARIAN
I was born in the early forties during those black and
white days,
When those big old valve radios and gramophones
records played.
The British flag was flying over Calcutta, the city of
my birth.
That first old capital of British India with its horse
and buggy, crowded buses, and tram cars.
The main streets got washed with water hoses from  
high pressured hydrants every morning,
And the lamplighter with his ladder lighted the
street gas lights every evening.
Radiograms were a status symbol, and transistor
radios had come decades later.
With rickshaws pulled manually by poor old
rickshaw pullers!
Juke Box played popular songs (during our school
days in the fifties) in ice cream parlors.
Whoever even thought of a TV or a mobile phone,
during those happy hours!
For the Bongs the theatres of north Calcutta was a
classical source of entertainment.
Eye ball contact was meaningful with a hug and a
hand shake, - life remained fully extroverted.
Unlike our present highly advanced Corona days!
No wonder I love that great old South Indian serial
titled the ‘Malgudi Days’!
Like our old songs, those golden days shall forever
remain cherished and nostalgic;
And as a part of a senior citizen’s waking dream!
Now please smile, take a selfie with your I-phone,
and go to sleep!
                                       -Raj Nandy, New Delhi.

Complicated,phases of life and unstatifaction,
Pressurizes oneself, silly mind,
Oneself wants to get rid of it,
Oneself get lost and is no more,
Freedom but sorrow in it ,complicated.


Outlandish,people's  questions and answers,
Concern at peak,didn't want to listen yesterday,
Parade of silly people,sympathetic for selfishness,
What a shame or not, thses days people are unmoved.

Misery for people who actually cared,
Unsaid things as many as the stars,
Shall hold no gulit, if couldn't be there,
Nothing can be done but memories cherished.

news breaks brings an alarm by mobile
to watch
yet i find
i come not bothered no more
it is just words again
while people die
while folk sew their
own ppe
cleverly

adverb

apparently

i made the ladder easily
with sticks and string
for decoration only

the plan today to go
small make more
and crawl under the hedge

pump the brakes
it may be that
that groans

then have my second walk per the day
perhaps about four
before
tea

thses things are written in the diary

james