

Others Speak

"India's... counterculture is symbolized in the Prakalpana Movement ...Vattacharja Chandan is a central figure who contrived the movement. Prakalpana fiction is a fusion of prose, poetry, play, essay, and pictures. An example of a Prakalpana work is Chandan's bilingual Cosmosphere"— isahitya.com

"...Which includes Chandan's...Cosmosphere—arguably the most interesting text..." — New Hope International Review

"I enjoyed the most....'Aurora on the River Gour', .... interesting nonetheless". — The New Pages Zine Rack

Cosmosphere 1

Dearsphere

Universion

Epical Fiction Prakalpana

By Vattacharja Chandan

Cover Design by Vattacharja Chandan

Copyright 2018 Vattacharja Chandan

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Dedication

At the bosom of the bloom

may who smell the reclusive love

spell the soul to permeate allover

To You for ever

Cosmosphere 1: Dearsphere

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Incubation

Chapter 2: Solitary Outcry

Chapter 3: Universion

Chapter 4: Risen World

Chapter 5: Dreamatic Rendezvous

Chapter 6: Aurora on the River Gour

Chapter 7: Specter of Terroria

Chapter 8: Faraway Milkyway

Chapter 9: Unbidden Reflexion

Chapter 10: Nectar of Extimes

Chapter 11: DeviationTimes

Chapter 12: Rhymes of Times

Chapter 13: Lassefair Times

Chapter 14: Contension Times

Chapter 15: Diversion Times

Chapter 16: Harmonious Times

Chapter 17: Wayout Times

Chapter 18: Oblivious Times

Chapter 19: Rifting Times

Chapter 20: Drifting Times

Chapter 21: Rearsphere Dearsphere

Afterword

About Vattacharja Chandan

Discover Other Books by Vattacharja Chandan

Connect With Vattacharja Chandan

(((((((((((()))))))))))

C o s m o s p h e r E 1

D e a R S p h e r E

Perpetual times never sever

Unseen to anybody

my silent stint to ever haunt

beautilization in dear sphere

What where nowhere

spell in cosmosphere

1.1
Chapter 1: Incubation

Uncited Outset

== Ghost! Oh You host the ghost in the room? Funtastic! I'll like to stay with them in the same room. The visitor opts.

== {The ice-cold corpses of a love-embedded young partners locked in warm embrace— who were the last boarders of this room a few months ago—still haunting the maître d' hotel Luna Paul in the reception}. After a suicide in the room, there's that fuss of ghost. some boarders think any sound from the room is in fact the sound of loitering of the exasperated thirsty spirits. So boarders avoid this room. Another thing, be ware of pranking monkeys prowling. may enter the room.. So u may choose another room now. Yet, if you so choose, do stay so long you want to stay in this room. But don't blame us for this room later. Okay? This room is the cheapest of the lot. Still Biswapur is an obscure place. few tourists come. it's new inn. opened some months back. still underprepared. renovation not yet complete. Luna says, gladly welcoming the visitor with a bit of surprise for the visitant's choice of the room.

== Don't worry. am takin' this garret deliberately. monkeys won't harm me. rather some people are more monkish than these distant relatives of them. then tho i ain't eager to meet ghosts, atmas or spirit tirits, but if it so happens — no harm. it'll be an experience! i like this garret not only becuz it's rent is lesser, but also for apart from the adjacent roof & balcony, from this room even lying you see the free sea — which can't be seen from the other rooms. the roof houses no other room / to presume / none lives in the solitude, i need now.

Answers the someone erratic writer opting this room, after stepping in this inn for resting some days, to plan a piece of writing. As he cerebrates:

If we fail to plan aptly

the plan will fail us inaptly

Insite

.... The garret. background twilight. a few days later. on the drab wall a pink glow of day end. a circular perpetual calendar hung on wall by the writer. In the room 1 lies/ opens eyes / & the ocean on 3 sides. Aside the bedstead magenta colored fauteuil, telephone, books and papers dumped on the table. The ocean from the table again. all pervasive. vast. profound.

At a corner of room:

.... An earthen pitcher. a glass covering its neck. a kingsize cosychair. a table.

On the wall above: 2 olden life sized portraits in oil like the typical pictures of king Harishchandra & queen Shaibya one findeth in the Ramayan and Mahavarat. At the bottom of the pictures, the names inscribed in the delicately crafted frames: Maharaja Durjoy Singh Deb Bahadur & Maharani Ratnaprova Debi. They might be the erstwhile zeminder owner of this house and his lady. His Highness weareth: jeweled turban, crimson royal robes with sword &c &c &c. Her Highness weareth: crown, tikli on the forehead, once-glittering golden embroidered dotty sari blouse, few rounds of precious necklace + thick waistlace highlighting the waistland —an inviting central province of her body which probably harbored frequent sexuberant strains with bon heur ....... nope, it is implausible for the garreteer to depicture her. Better our readers make her up as they like. The 2 paintings are damaged in places by attack of fungus. Only their smile shineth — of narcissism. Now spiders play trapeze on the pics. On 1 side see thru windows [][] arbor. cars in portico. street. reception. lawn. flowers. gate. lampposts. hotels & restaurants visible.

.... 2 other sides after window show far s-p-r-e-a-d shadow of soil conserving casuarinas & Akashmoni forest. a debarrened dune ahead. then the beach. some boats and nets squatting. millions of red crab on beach. endangered. cautious. sound of foot prompts them to home into their holes. again come back. the beach bows the sea. the expanse of waterforces. In the sea drift boats & trawlers of fishermen / Somewhen waves toy with ships and fade out in the distant horizon / and it is only wind blowing wind somethen / when change the color and roar of unruly ocean's pleasure & pain.

.... At the entrance of the garret (to be described hereinafter as room # 15). Lies shrunk on the doormat / the darn cat. / Disgust in her cattitude / to a comer if she is to give way / pausing her beatitude.

.... Enter room # 15. A pair of hobo shoes garaged beside the door. How far can one go in these shoes in the untrotten ways into posterity? In this twilight what are the other things in the room, cannot be primagined from distance.

-close up-

.... The writer lying abed. open sheet of blank paper. white pages. white shadow. ongoing a bad patch. Writing few lines then tearing into pieces — yielding no fruitful utility so to say no fruitility. Overflourishing the trash basket twisted torn pieces of papers scattered allover the floor. He cogitates i'm tearing everything into pieces in a mess! looks cruise. a cobweb is swinging in the wind down the ceiling.

The spider's net is its nest

with a package

of food + bed rest

As a ringmaster cater tricks on net to network, is a big expert artisan spider who seems to be a tiny octopus. If little octopuses can be brought up in cistern & set upon the suckers if needed?

Tame Octopus in Cistern

i'm tearing time into pieces flowers into pieces

i'm tearing love into pieces myself into pieces

i'm tearing into pieces all into × pieces

i'm bit as I want to be a mongoose at a snake

i miss fortune as I want to be a minstrel after tune

i'm finished as I want to punish imposters

i forget this is a mask age as I want to unmask

i'm tearing time into pieces flowers into pieces

i'm tearing love into pieces myself into pieces

i'm tearing into pieces all into × pieces

i aim to tame octopus in cistern & set upon suckers

But oh, rather I'm husked being sucked out!

i'm tearing time into pieces flowers into pieces

i'm tearing love into pieces myself into pieces

i'm tearing into pieces all into × pieces

i smell someone signals me from far galaxy.

At a bent of another milky way

my Hiya awaits me torridly

Again from different universe

she frolics skylarks hide & seek

sends hifrequency kisses

showers parijat flowers galore & calls:

I evol u Nadnahc(.) Emoc prahs ot em(.)

But i'm dazed can't decode the message

In limbo i'm tearing flowers into pieces

love into pieces

my worlden and farworlden times into pieces.

Still i wait as: if terraductil calls in dream

& i reget the heydays when i freeply

eat in temple lie in mosque

Now lifelorn desert raided by hardcore blizzards

Life's furnace is ablaze amidst random rains

What do i do, am i my harmer?

Unable to save anything

i'm burning althing & crawling toward the end

i'm tearing solid sleep & blissful peace into pieces

tearing my chance into pieces my future into pieces

i'm tearing into pieces my extravacant life

tearing into pieces my uncared for manuscripts

,, into pieces my nonconvertible dreamage

i'm tearing × pieces myself × pieces all × × pieces

.... Yesternight windows of his room were open. Moon looking after him thru the night. Thenafter he was not aware when clouds reinforced by rain seized the sky driving out the moon and the constellation. Rains dampened the edge of his bed as well as his papers. The infiltrator winds inflicted him cold. throat-tickling. headache. fever. Trifling that, today also he has wandered over this terra incognita semitown Biswapur through and through. Occluded bazaar, warehouse, shops, fishermen's wharfs, offices, school, college, playfield... even called by the local youth Romnis Pundit, whom he has met several times here at the Sweetheart Café, and visited his theque @ the Tea Circle...... alwhere. then seabath. lunch in cheap price hotel. and watching sportsfest in Biswapur stadium. sitting in the spectator's gallery. his watching of various competitive events >>> discus throwing, high & long jump, races, hurdles, relay, wrestling, boxing, kabadi, musical chair, go as you like &c.... Whole day in the rude & crude sun. The aftereffect is that he has to surrender his nearly out of order walkster body to the bed returning to the inn somehow in a rickshaw. temperature of his body upped. bepained in the chest. in the whole body. he feels sleepy but cannot sleep in numbness. On the screen of mind roving scenes of different thoughts and dreamages reel one after another tout ensemble and fade out.... Well, in this room #15, he has not yet encountered with disgruntled spirits. Of course he has heard thudding sounds at night.

.... A...few...pair...of...glowing...eyes...in...the..stark..dark

(o\/o) (^)(^) <>/\<> (oLo)

.... But in flashlight it has been found that something like civets fleeing......

Suddenly he feels something lightly lands on his forehead. He rubs his temple and grabs an insect. To observe the insect he opens his eyes. sees swarm of purple black brown green insects on the green jungle-print bedsheet covering his body for his chillfeeling and quivering. Not only in bed big and small peculiar numerous insects on the table, but also on wall. Shelf. almira. chair. allwhere in the room. They have sneaked into his room sometime utilizing the propertunity of ajar doors and windows. Only insect insect insect insect tcesni tcesni tcesni tcesni. i n s e c t.

.... Big small tall wonderful dreadly ugly picturesque countless insects. He finds a big insect slowly approaching him ..... He takes his magnifying glass **Q** used for reading smaller alphabets fro the table and observes the enlarged version of the worm through it .... It seems a tiny edition of a ferocious tyrannosaurus rex coming to grasp him. The other insects are as if living micro replicas of ankylosaur, tiger, lion, hippo, dodo ..... and other survivor & extinct species from primeval animals world till today. On the wall a potbellied corpulent lizard, silently crawling and then suddenly speeding to grab the prey like a little reptile, is superfeasting gladly catching many worms. A line of cooperative well disciplined marching ants

o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

.... marching whereto who knows like a black crack in the wall. 2 bees or may be wasps rushing out through the window, whereto who knows? Tracking their source to the outmosphere his eyes turn toward the sea. In the sea drift boats and trawlers of fishermen / Somewhen waves toy with ships and fade out in the distant horizon / And it is only wind only blowing wind somethen / when change the color & roar of unruly ocean's pleasure and pain.

.... Due to the strain of quizzing at the insects through the magni glass for sometime water drips down his eyes. His head spins. In this condition he thinks of writing and writes a few lines. He shakes the bedspread full of insects outside the balcony and after bedjustment lies down wrapping himself again with the bedspread.

.... The bedder's eyes roll over the walls. olden walls. eroded and corroded at places. On 1 wall hangs his circular perpetual calendar — one can spot out any particular day, date & year of several centuries ahead or reverse rotating and calculating out of it. He attempts but cannot fix his eyes on the calendar. In the reckless wind indulged through the doors and windows, the calendar swings like a pendulum of endless times swimming across the centuries and millennia. The speeding eternal time swings. The cosmosphere swings hangs reels rolls. He rediverts his vision overlooking the ocean. He can now comprehend why the original owner/s had built this villa ship-shaped. He salutes the portraits of His & Her Highness now raising his hand touching his forehead. Bemusing the rebel waves chasing him. having the feel that surrounded by the expanse of water. living in a frivolous wavering ship tottering vigorously—which may sink into fathomless netherworld in any moment.

i was just a trivial traveler on time ocean

enshored to be tested by time for a while

ensured to be withdrawn by next waversion

.... Has just shut his eyes, a thumping sound, open eyes. a ghost? naw. not a ghost. not even a civet. The writer eyes a few branches and twigs of trees of the arbor descend over the windows of the attic. In the branches camp acrobatic monkeys. Their operation/ is to jump from branch to branch of trees / on the roof veranda tin roof of the attic / to grab any food if they get any door or window ajar / and run in fun. a pair of monkeys with their burnt-black faces entering in his room. Then smartly escaping lifting up his packet of food. And sensing that the pigeons nesting on the wooden structure beneath the red tin roof are fluttering cooing tottering stirring. He inquires if these monkeys are the distant sequels to the Indicus species of the Dryopithecus apes of the Miocene epoch? ..... Pendulum of the endless time swings / The speeding eternal time swings / The cosmosphere hangs reels rolls swings / He reinvents the rhythm of the ocean.

The natural even & uneven fusion

harmonizing in rhyme & unrhyme

as the rhythmic blowing flow verse

is the verse of the universe

Preflexion

.... The sun has just immersed. Still in the influence of sun the cloudscape painted all over the sky and the horizon colored with dreamatic spectrum ..... Had the Talgai cranium man seen exactly this colored sky from the Darling Downs of Queens Land 12000 years BC? Will there be anything called (wo)man after say 537 or 17349 or 600000 years?

The future of the world's survival

will largely depend on co existence

and divergence of eco existence

.... By that time this dear earth and wo/man might be decreated due to sunrage. awful explosion of population. stuffocating pollution. global warming or cooling. extraterrestrial war. madmaniac powerplay. human greed & mistance. terroric destructure. attack by aliens germs & survirus. swarm of locusts. or due to known / unknown diseases. hunger & thirst. scientific madventure./ wo/man made intelligent objects outsmarting people / or encounter with comets / planets star asteroids. or due to heat / cold wave. Storm. Deluge. Conflagration. volcanic eruption. Earthquake. Tsunami. or due to some other unforeseen causes ..... Or as a pis aller, wo/man may drive this earth or leave this earth to settle in other celestial place in the space before the doomsday. And whence if wo/man changed to the root, still remains, thence his piece of writing won't be thither. Or if some part of his writing is excavated or rediscovered in the virtual or spacific another world — someven by mistake, thence also it would be like a primal language to them— which oho, whence nobody shall understandeth!

.... Oho, that day none shall know that a Homo sapiens man circa at the fringe of 2nd & 3rd millennium AD, too had something to say. something to do. He too one day walked in dust. roamed in sun. drenched in rain. smiled in euphoria. wept in dysphoria. he called. woke. worked. mused. sang. raged. believed. smeared in pollen dust. loved. And even if they understandeth, this account of the current earthen sphere will likely to appear to them then as so queer, incredible and implausible. Though —

The story of its blossoming in niceties

knows only the plant

what others know of it?

.... So he wishes to leave little trails for the posterity to dig out as to how wast the proversion of his experienced, experimented and introspected world and how floated his

e a r t h m o s p h e r e

Born in spring i have gotten only venom

i seek flower > I do not pluck

i do blunder < that I remember

This body ravaged by acute diseases

cannot be cured in thousand lives

This mind imbued in intimate hues

cannot be defaced in thousand lives

This life rocked by countless faux pas

cannot be whitewashed in thousand lives

i'm walled by futile insomniac sursphere

cannot be dwindled in thousand lives

i do blunder > I do not blame

i'm pierced < have not reversed

It occurs what to occur it loses what to lose

It flows what to flow it bears what to bear

One errs time recedes

body erodes apathy endured

i refeel in this life for me it will not hap:

Swimming in T~i~t~i~k~a~k~a

crossing Sahara on camel

It will not hap to climb atop the Everest ^^

to be a matador + to canvas for award

jockeying for lottery, to be conqueror

hunter wrestler millionaire

minister leader scientist star king emir it won't be

this life cannot be chained not not be retained

i am bit i am hit > i do not tit for that tat

i want con amore < have got never

So it is overt > in this life i couldn't talk to

Tutankhamun Confucius Cleopatra Jean De Arc

Kalidas Shakespeare Marx Madam Curie

Dostoevsky Einstein Netaji

not trotted Burkina Faso Neptune planet

i couldn't sing humdrum songs in chorus

i couldn't keep pace to face with all

i couldn't avow all rules and prohibitions

i couldn't change the side with the wind

This life could not be caged anywhere

i couldn't coax to be a hearticipant

i couldn't retreat from where I'm heading to

i couldn't dash to the Andromeda galaxy

i couldn't know how to knit how to net

how to reap how to bait

how to husk how to make jewelry cut

how to how to attract

how to how to bite by springing hood

S

how to how...

not known not worked not heard not done

not seen not been any manythings over there

Life ensnared drove rolled cooled burnt me

for nothing for nothing nothing for nothing

Born in spring i have gotten only venom

i seek flower > i do not pluck

i do blunder < that i remember

(((((((((()))))))))

C o s m o s p h e r E 1 D e a r s p h e r E

1.2

Chapter 2: Solitary Outcry

Onsite

== Switch on the light. (In sotto voce)

== Alive or gone?

== If anybody dies again nobody'll dare stay in this room.

== Inhaling. (Cosmetic smell of the hand stretched out to check his breathing before his nose).

== Got temperature? (Touch of a soft hand feeling his pulse. Bangles faint rhyming chiming rinijhini).

== Doc-hospital-ambulance should we call?

== Nope, see here's a medkit.

== Taken the right med (seeing the phial).

== I had cautioned him of ghosts—he who stays in this room / faces the doom. But he didn't care—poets have got nuts in brain.

== Poet? name?

== Who knows? New. never heard him.

== See. What he has written! Poem? (Tries to read. Cannot follow).

== What trash they write—m - o- d- e- r- r- r- n poetry. Who reads and who understands nobody knows. I don't read poem toem. They're futile brains — have neither head nor tail — simply meantellectual nonsense—.

== Quite right. If you talk of poetry, that must be Tagore's. long ago I had read that in school, still I can recite fluently from memory — oh, what's that piece — ah ha tell me — "My" — yeah what's that tell me — .

The staffs of the inn surround the bed of the ailing writer were talking in a low voice among them — when suddenly the proprietress of the inn is seen in the scene appearing in the balcony. Everybody alert in a moment: Hush-shshsh Hiyadi is coming.

.... Entering the room and coup de'oeil at the ailing boarder Hiya gets a jerk menternally — Hoa who's he! But outwardly she demands: Show me what's written (her doubtlook), let me see. Is it a suicide note? She grabs the piece of paper and reads at a breath in quick time. Her heart beats faster — she becomes sure, not a suicide note, may be a self depicture or epitaph or — ? She scans the poem now:

Epitaph

Hush!

This latent prayer is appealed to all

Please

do not forget this baseman

Absorbed & instilled

in this cosmosphere

is unexplored chandan

originated in epoch Holocene

on 1d to end 3m of 56y before millennium III began

being the 4th weekday in ex-Tamralipta

the grandson of Pramatho + Baroda

son of Sitalakshmi of Vattacharja clan

That blood streamed whose body

oozed all vein & by vein

about 61320 million miles per year

Lab of nigh 250 kin of bacteria

grained in the skin

Here is zeroed

that homo sapiens brain

charged in 88°30'E longitude & 22°34'N latitude

& 2.5 million times throbbing heartborn prakalpana

Please

do not forget this baseman

Hushhhh!

.... Reading the poem again Hiya's worry eases. But next moment renoticing the name of the writer she is selectrified — she has read this poet a few times in periodicals before. While screening the dismal health & visage of the writer, on reverse lookup the shadow of the same-named boy recasts after a tall interval again in part by part in the scenario, like the stretches of shoal risen up on the breast of river! Moving visions of the pastrack. A candle of the pet night days & times has been softly burning and melting in aplomb within Hiya silently ...

Movision 1

.... She in her early teens. Perched rice Muri in the hollow of the folded ends of her wear black striped sari. Holding his one hand she is dragging her companion— walking barefooted in the dew of winter dawn on the narrow divider pathway of in the field of khesari pea cultivation — plucking up the peas — then sitting on the embankment of canal together with her playmate gulping muri with peeled dewy green khesari peas....

Cut to

Movision 2

.... Babul tree in the risen shoal of river. Thread of kite fastened to one tree and spread to another distanced tree horizontally. Her playmate's polishing the thread with the paste of powered glass mixed with the gum of broken green wood apple. Her sitting in the meadow, making a tailed kite with newspaper cuts pasting in that broken wood apple's gum having raw green smell. Afar mother calling her aloud: H-i-y-a. come home with him. your tutor has come. to teach youuuuuuuuuuuuu.

Cut to

.... That time left far. Yet she can even now feel the smell of that broken green wood apple, sensing the shadow of her missed companion in this ailing poet ..... There may be something like rebirth or may not be, but they shall meet again — she will definitely get back her missing heartmate one day or another — she has had and shall have this firm conviction that will last for ever — but costing such a wide stopgap of years — in this ailing condition — in her own holiday inn she would reget him like a coup de theatre — this she could not even daydream! Still she is unable to assimilate this incredible factasy! But at the same time how can she disbelief? From this poem his identity tallies in toto! So this guy-is-her-long-misappeared-heartmate-since-puerility!? Yes, the same looks. But now wan! ...

.... Suddenly she becomes conscious that the staff of her hotel watching her in amazement. Their appearance hints >> their proprietress is wasting so much time for an unknown unrevealed tramp property << what's the matter? Sniffing this + to get the warm touch of his body once again + to be confirmed in this propertunity by examining his palm at a glimpse, she smartly raises the right wrist of the close-eyed patient in the pretext of checking his pulse — but the touch of his hand stops her heartbeat for the moment as in those days — yet suppressing her menternality she glances at his palm — yes in the second part of his 2nd finger that mole still remains — noticing which her astrologer father had said: look Hiya, the mount of Saturn in his hand ...and the Solomon Ring.... Yes, like that day today also Hiya reads the Solomon Ring quickly — while feeling the heat & pulse beat in his wrist. A candle of the pet night days & times has been softly burning and melting in aplomb within Hiya silently ...

Cut to

Movision 3

== That day Hiya asked her heartizen lightly: Any day if you're lost from me and if I meet you after many years, how would I identify you?

== How?

== Eh mom, can't you say this too? you are good for nothin'. seeing this mole in your finger and seeing the Solomon Ring in your palm, you understand, silly?

== And if you're missing, how should I spot you? The poet crossquired.

==(Hiya grinning ) How?

==1. seeing this dimple in your left cheek while you smile. (Hiya's cheeks blushed).

==I won't need to chuckle seeing you then. well seeing anyhow else?

==2. And (in sotto voce) more acute earmarks in yr body which only I know in details. do u wanna hear those? trademarks one by one? for instance your — Hiya promptly blocked his lips with her hand: You ain't ashamed to utter anything — isn't it? you needn't tell more. i won't be ever missing from u and u needn't find me out. okay?

Cut to

.... But that-they whisked away from each other... That-she has been looking for him since then. But whom Hiya lost at her budding teenage and still who is invisibly omnipresent each and everyhere and there and each & every moment in her life — whom she has been looking for always alwhere toujours — now discovering him quite accidentally. in illness. in her own shelter. she becomes extremely restless and inundated within her self. Yet in front of her staffers with great difficulty she absorbs the shock wave into her mind caused by the series of premotional avalanches of glaciers in blinding hyper blizzard. She releases her etude's hand slowly to its place and comments in a low tone: Temperature isn't low. But this night could we get Dr. Shirin? Luna?

== Yes ma'am?

== Before you go to bed at night and rising at dawn at first you'd look after this patient. take care what is needed. Ok?

== Okay. Don't worry.

== Singhji, during your night watch keep an eye on this sahib. If the temperature ups further or you deem it necessary — both of you — don't hesitate to call me up.

== All right ma'am.

== Luna, (looking at the sorry state of the room), this room isn't cleaned up I see.

Luna passes the look over to Jhoomki.

== Whenever I come to clean this room — he is out and the room is closed. last few days gone this way. today afternoon when I got the room open, Babu said some of his important paper is lost in these junk pieces of paper in the floor, which he will find out first then he will let me clean up the room — so it's undone ma'am — Jhoomki, the cleaner woman accounts for.

== He is like this as ever — saying this the next moment Hiya realizes she has done a silly act on her part to utter this — which though none other notices but Luna is curious: But you've just returned after a week, how could you —?

== Know? You wanna know? In fact there are quite a few this type of bohemian among the writers and artists — you can easily trace them. So you leave him now. But remember what I've said to you. She manages to rectify her mistake somehow: Luna, you try to catch Dr. Shirin on phone. if you get her, get me the line to this room — i'll be waiting here for some time more — if the doc wanna know the detailed conditions of the patient, i can narrate that to her staying on the spot.

.... Hiya feels great relief when everybody leaves the room. Because not only for the time being she wants to hide her ruptured heartremor from all, but also for some time at least, to solely own her refound lone cobber — the confidant of her early life and the harmonizer of her existence in some intrinsic rhythm and intriguing tune — she lets others quit this room. Sitting in the bedside with a steadfast look at her rediscovered assort she thinks how miserable his visage looks with long unkempt hair and unshaved stubble. Unrecognizable! She rubs his head and temple with her hand very gently and begins to perspire in the heat and excitement of her mind and body. A candle of the pet night days & times has been softly burning and melting in aplomb within Hiya silently ...

Cut to

Movision 4

.... This guy at his boyhood used to come to her father to read..... They 2 used to read play team dream teem and chum up together.... Wandering into the leaves of books or on roads and meadows, so many times they longed to roam in the kingdom of Atahualpa... in the cape of Horn... in the Byzantine kingdom... with the samurai trapped in ice... or in the reign of Hammurabi, Thutmose, Chow kings... and in the labyrinth of pyramids. Eras and eras ago in the Tithes Ocean, they had swam being a pair of swans. Or being a pair of herons they had flown on the eve of a March evening towards the Pleiades star * As a bas bleu of eternal lovewave, she gets her heartmate in how many forms & how many times and loses him how many times!

......gets loses loses gets loses gets gets loses

loses gets gets loses gets loses loses gets.....

sometimes within conscious body sometimes beyond body sometimes in supra nature..... Though the lovebird duo is of this age, yet they are not of any particular age only — of all ages. Though they are of a country, yet they aren't of that country alone — of all countries of all places of all times. As if only the slough of body change again and again in eternal quest and thirst for life....

Movison Fades Out

.... But over so many layers of the past years, does her counterpart still subscribe to the same selfrantic desire for her as in the past? It is plausible not to nourish the same. Yet an irrepressible emotion gushes out of her hearterritory. Because whatever hap — how far away one remain from the other — they had sworn to remain addicted to each other for life. They had taken the oath that day when Hiya awaiting her heartmate at their rendezvous under the hijol tree beside the river, but he arrived much later than the scheduled time, she was in tears! He being unable to cajole her sob at last bussed her and chanted:

Cries the whining fox, ah

in the bank of river Kongshaa!

At that Hiya couldn't resist herself chortling while crying. On that colorful afternoon they swore that sublime oath. Only onlookers to the promise were the retiring sun and the river and the silent approver — the flowershowering hijol tree...... But Hiya now presumes that her one time partner has defected from his addiction to her or there has been a paradigm shift in his previous attitude to her.

.... She ties the open end of her violet colorina silk sari to her waist tightly. begins to clean the room. what a mess. everything topsy-turvy. this habit of him still remains unchanged! switches on the table lamp. arranges papers. that very familiar handwriting — only the curves are changed a bit. some printout scripts. she reads a few poems a little. realizing his writings are not proceeding well. as all are sketchy as yet. futile wanderings all thru the day only are the babu's only work. blank white pages thrown down torn pieces of scripts and lump scroll of papers scattered all over the floor. on scrutiny she picks up a wrapped ball of paper as yet untorn. keeps it on the table. tries to make it plain pressing with her palms. with utter care. she finds it a poem. figures out — oh, then this is the missing paper babu was looking for —places the poem near lamp, reads and becomes charged and recharged again and again:

Looking For The Heartmate

i have written enough

But for who I have written

it never reached

reached never. never reached.

Like a star countless light years away *

emitting light incessantly infinite times

not yet touched this earth. earth detouched

For who my existence burns in futility

questing hearty Hiya over Chola age or DNA

that who could not ever dream

Dream never. never dream

i have written enough

But for who i have written

it never reached

reached never. never reached

(*!*)

.... Reading the poem several times Hiya realizes that her playmate of puerility has missed her but no remiss occurred on his part. Rather she has been his favorite haunt always like herself. Her blindense menternal cloud flushes out by the gale of sudden euphoria. She regains that vista of synergy in hand. That vanished setting sun. That dipping sun-painted river beside where they were lovemerged. That mild fragrant flower-showering Barringtonia acutangula — that is hijol tree, is reminding her of the old oath at the end of tall waitedge.... She quivers in this strange trance! To reconnect a bit of this selectronic love to its generator, she rubs his hair & forehead tardily.

.... Tel call. Hiya phones in a trice so that the noise does not hinder his sleep. His eyes blink for a moment but Hiya's eyes silently wink him shut his eyes and sleep fast. In a subsensous haze his eyes retire again to promeditation in sabasan.

== Shirin?

== Yea. Why SOS me now at night? For anyone special?

== Xtra special.

== Who's that fortunate guy?

== Whom I've been looking for year after year. always. alwhere. alwhen. you know that very well.

== Really! whatta you sayin'! where you got him?

== Hotel Sweetheart room # 15

== Then yr hotel's name is justified now with the appearance of yr Sweetheart? Heard some writer camping in yr attic? is it he?

== So I'm seeing. Seems his fever caused by exhaustion of wandering. stricken by heat & cold. seeing a medkit with him. might have taken medicine. might be for that reason the temperature sliding downwards.

== Then let's wait & see tonight. morning on my way to hospital I'll come to visit him. don't worry.

== Whattabout tonight?

== Tonight you're bestowed with the golden — nay diamond propertunity to serve n enjoy n consume the pleasure of your exquisite property exclusively, my crony. I'm coming to your love nest best in the morning to assess on the spot survey, as to how far you've progresseth. Now cheer up the honey night with your sweetheart my honey.

Laughter both ends.

== Ah ha, he is senseless in fever. not even seen me. : Oh ho ho, is this a fever of today? A chronic fever history seeing you since the childhood—which is incurable — so how can I cure? Laughter. call ends.

.... After restoring the room Hiya prequisitions a flask of hot milk. a flower vase of night queen and a packet of incense. Night queen fleur in vase, burning sandalwood incense sticks disburse fragrance. Then seated in the cozy chair / she listens on earphone / some pre-recorded poems and songs / composed and tuned by the poet in his own voice / and takes with her some of the opus song lyrics along with notations / and a book by the poet for her own perusal. Beducating the bed she pulls the bedspread up to his shoulder over his body. She mulls let the fever decrease first. I'll be back at dawn. Don't escape. Then her last minute look with the sneak a peck / so that now his sleep doesn't break. shuts the door. leaves the room. toward her boudoir. downstairs. wearing a faint grin. with a mindful of soft dreamembrance.

Returns the solid silence. Mute tranquility. Pendulum of the endless time swings / The speeding eternal time swings / The cosmosphere hangs reels rolls swings.

Now the waking stony moon and the scattered stars in the sky oversee the dark oversea. The swirling focal light from the lighthouse is touchpassing the waves afar.

On the writer's closed eyes and face lineally reflect the silent faint glowing & glowing &dipping & dipping of the colorina innsign light of the hotel Sweetheart .......with the feeble flickering fireflies.

.... But that lull does not last long. sound brushes aside the silence. From far away waves after waves of huge noise poise and rush toward him vanquish and destroy the quiet into pieces. Some smoggy figures, some heard unheard noise like known unknown indistinct primage gradually obtrude. Converse.

Intrude clamor

Menterrogation

.... Clamor is alwhere. clamor on road. clamor downstairs. upstairs. verandah. roof. clamor in pillar. in window. door. clamor hanging in ceiling. swinging like a cobweb Then crisscrossing all hurdles clamor thrust on him one after another. Enormous. variegated clamor brew upheaval in his heartrack. thru the ears. no definite language of the clamor can be traced. jolt of acute clamor becoming unbearable sound engulfs like swarms of crickets' sharp cry. Within the hedge he feels in drifting dizzy mist as if innumerable replicas of humans, animals, manimals, planets stars nebula birds and beasts trees flowers & plants concrete & abstract existent & extinct species—from the leaf of books, ledgers, from the reel of films zoos market places habitations public places meetings offices schools colleges streets—and from the world of presumption, primagination, & invisible white shadow—why poising hullabaloo to him all aloud?! In closed eyes he asks: Who are you? / stop your uproar / i'm unable to endure.

== We're nested in your brain & mind — your internatural seen unseen known unknown, familiar unfamiliar thought unthought character—life creature matter earthmosphere, nature, nurture, perception inconsciousness, aims & ideas...

== Oh, what do you want of me?

== We want to be freed from your brain & mind cell. We want to come out.

== Alright. But i haven't detained you. i too can't bear your excessive storming in my brain. i also want to be free from your boundage.

== Is it so easy to get freedom to give freedom? You're just uttering that you're freeing us — and you're relieved of your thoughts? and we're liberated?

== Then how can i be free and give you freedom?

== Listen, we don't want to become extinct from the macrosphere with you — rather we crave to become diffused and spread all over more & more & more & more—and reach out to as many as as far as diverse as possible—over the ages & times scattering the seeds of concepts & compositions — so that from them spring up many more new and newer conceptions & ideas. Because man goes, idea persists. You author us to free us from your brain & mind cell. As

The search in the lives of humans

should be not only for success

but also for accomplishment

culminating in selfulfeelment

== What can be done? i've attempted several times but failed. All my time erodes in the deeds & misdeeds of my livelihood. if i start this work somehow also, i won't be able to finish. Besides my ideas are very scrimpy & trifle. Often

After i make

again i shake

i break

to remake

what is cliché

in and outside of it

== Who knows hears sees understands each and every thing in this world? None. that's never possible. So compose from what you know understand think see hear. Perceive macrocosm via microcosm. microcosm via macrocosm. Oh poet, oh writer, oh author, librettist, oh wordster, while failing repeatedly, 1 day you'll be enable to be near to exact.

If you can't be arguably the best

articulate what's your kind of distinction at least

which justifies your class with the mass

Start up to compose your macroworld without more delay from your microworld with your unidiversality.

== i won't be able. This is a very intensive tensive & pensive task.

(Vehement protest & outburst erupt within)

If you don't try to manifest your daydream

into reality investing yourself totally

nobody will know what you chalked out exactly

in the same way you design and assign

which will be done by others

Else, it's better to self-annihilate than this self-treachery!

==Then —for the last time — let me see how far I can do.

Euphoria in hearterrain.

Exit Clamor

.... Pendulum of the endless time swings / The speeding eternal time swings / The cosmosphere hangs reels rolls swings. Rereigns solid silence. Mute tranquility.

Innovision

.... In sabasan. The writer is transcentral in the world of sense & practice, chetana and karma in the frontier of vision & perception. meditating in the retreat of timeless silence, awaiting his much desired words & primagination. inchurning the culmination of his envisions cerebrating...

His eyes blink for a moment. Next moment close. Now the sun glares at the center of his 2 eyebrows as the 3rd eye **(0)** The moon settles in forehead. In the head the primeval mute forest all extinct and latent creature & manimal kingdom. All thru the body blood vessels and veins—the deep sea & river and passionate rhythm of waves, agitated & declined wind. In his brain the superspace. the unidiversal microcosm transforming to macrocosm—and then the macrocosm again returning to microcosm—the explosions, expanding universe and embryonic c.o.s.m.o.s.p.h.e.r.e — conceived of the speedily proceeding 3 infinitimes — past present and future and then again dwindle to rekindle ..... His birthing was quite a fortuity. though a short-time mortal, he exudes as the cosmic citizen of world-states of all ages and all times — he envisions. But anybody can't be everywhere. So he desires to be on manywhere. as many places as possible. To get to feel the pulse of the place and people.

Though within sleep or waking—he did not get any celestial favor, fervor, blessing, command, advice, inspiration from god/s or anybody or manybody.

.... At the beginning, the wordster bows to the said foremost bards of trinity—Balmiki, Byas and Homer and humbly asks for their spiritization so that he can concoct the cosmosphere in his own secreated way prakalpana. The nonworthy author, the squirt after-runner wordsmith, with reverence also remembers all the creators and seers of all times for their legendary creativity in illuminating the peoples' minds throughout the ages. let their preffort and secreativity brew the addicted reader, but let not the radiation of their composition touch and shadow the unilluminated writer by any means.

Besides, the poet welcomes the creative kobisenas or poetroops — the marchers of poetry of all ages. Let them march ahead in different ages in different places in different times in all directions singing the victory anthem of the unidiversal humanity and well being of all creature, nature, nurture and culture as epicted in the >>>

Anthem of Kobisena

At 1 clarion call only 10 poetroopers rush  
towards 10 directions simply with their pens

1 goes eastward & says: Sol radiate the daily rays  
1 ,, westward & says: Sol surely return tomorrow  
1 ,, northward & says : Pole melt no ice in sorrow  
1 ,, southward & says: Pole blow kind pure wind  
1 ,, upward & says: Space, hold the world forever  
1 ,, downward & says: Crop + creation fulfill soil  
1 ,, northeast & says: Change to better over evil  
1 ,, southeast & says: Fire, burn up worn & gone  
1 ,, northwest & says: Keep eternal life-flow  
1 ,, southeast & says: Wo/men, mow devilization  
10 horizons from background oracle:

Humans shall reveal the privy of cosmocreation  
and the eternal teeming stream of life shall prevail

(((((((((()))))))))

C o s m o s p h e r E 1 D e a r s p h e r E

1.3

Chapter 3: Universion

Introvision

.... Abstruse dark in the room. Unfolding his eyes at first he cannot reinstall his mind. Who is he? Where? Why? How? But here only fireflies in the room. On musing the bedder recovers his identity. He is a targetless defocused wordster. He is to begin his composition. But from where and whom to kick-start? Where they're gone who were there near to him or into his mind's corner and parlor so long? He can not find in front of him any commendable god & goddess, stateswo/man, demon, satan, invader, traitor, jingo, chauvinist, genius, pragmator or great wo/man from who he can flag off. There is only packed crowd of commoners parked around him. Who only grow. live. die. and goodbye. in each age. radiating momentary beauty. and mild fragrance. like innumerable wild flowers. Again such others appear & disappear. Yet in the evolution and history of mankind why these mild goody average indistinct hu/menwomen hardly occupy little space & place? Actually whose labor joy & despair & murmur refresh this world and enliven this civitualization—why they are always repeatedly missed & remised? The common workers and artisans of Pyramid, China-wall, Colossus, Khajuraho temple or Panama Canal remain unknown, but the atrocious people like Attila, Nero or Genghis Khan, Hitler, Stalin reserve permanent berth in history! He is dejected due to his angst qualm. once his eyes shut, sneaks in the jolt + tumult. His world of nature & nurture again squat the Return Clamor.: You swore to begin your composition?

== What can be done. From where to begin i can't understand. i lack wisdom, yet—

i'm doggedly skeptic at first

before popping up a wisdom pill

which sticks in my throat.

i haven't come across any such notable character, episode or spur from where i can get set go.

== Not necessarily. Premember this is not the age of Homer, Balmiki or Byas, that there are the gods or someone to inspire you, rather now there might be some to conspire against you so that you can't accomplish your goal. Besides your opus should be different. That you yourself will be able to envision from your inward invision + outward outmosphere of today's and tomorrow's epical span — for your ficton's piction, depiction and epiction from yourself right this moment.

This moment is the opportune moment

for the momentum to start.

== Start from myself? That means from my beginning?

== (In chorus) Yes.

== Then everybody originates from father & mother. from that means we're to begin from the beginning of the beginning?

== Yes. That's it. Do that.

== But father & mother of anybody can't be the beginning. Because they had also parents.

== Then from there—that means start from the mother & father of the father & mother.

== But they also can't be the beginning of the beginning. as they had their mother & father.

== Ok. Start from the father & mother of the father & mother of the mother & father or even from their mother & father.

== But they also can't be the beginning of any wo/man. As they also must have their ancestors.

== Ok, from the father & mother's mother & father's father & mother's mother & father's father & mother's mother & father's ...... Oh whatta jolt! We mean precisely you start from the ancestral man & woman.

== But it were the pre-ancestral men & women of the ancestral men & women. So if you are to start from the start of the start, then we are to start from the first progenitors, who i don't know.

.... This exchange of words attract some primates, apes and chimps to come to interject something in gibberish voices: Oh, we are the predecessors of wo/man's ancestors. You start from us.

This triggers uproar, protest and commotion in the world of birds, beasts and plants. The writer is perplexed and thrilled! Abruptly has he been rewinded millions of years backwards? The little he can understand that there are present the the examples of the entire living & extinct species of creatures & subcreatures, the flora, mammals, vertebrates, invertebrates, worms, birds & flies. As if he is a hunter of beauty in the deep forests of Africa, Asia or Amazon basin — whose obsession is not hunting but ablution in internatural sylvan beauty!

.... As the sequel amazed and shivered following and observing their roars, flutters, motions, emotions and commotions, the poet can at least comprehend as if all of them vie to connote that their species is before all others >> they are the beginner of the beginners. they are the prequel pioneers of animate life.... Fierce competition crop up with one another in the internatural animal world with hot debate, and turmoil as it goes in human's parliament. As if a great war is impending to commence between TX rex and king whale. The writer feels several weaker sections like blue algae, jelly fishes and bacteria etc. part with the deliberation and retreat to their shelter protesting: You can't see tiny matters. know the start, and see we are the pioneers.

Sensing their attitude the ocean roars with smashing high waves: How would you be the pioneers? Everything originated in the water. How could you germinate if there was no water? So water is the first. Water is life.

.... Overhearing this the sun on the overhead suddenly sniggered: Well, vaporing each drop of water and burning everything in this world in a moment, I'll show you who's the real source of energy, who's the beginning of the beginning.

Alarmed, the oceans and the entire living world, become extremely frightened for their total extinction and begin to pray anxiously to the sol so that he withdraws their annihilation, in language: Oh, the giver of the brightest light and extinguisher of all sins, we bow to thee:

Om jabakusuma sankasham kashyapeyo mahadyutim

Dhantaring sarbapapaghna pronotoshmi Dibakaram

The Sol is pleased: Now you know really who's the pioneer!

The writer being unable to remain mute anymore intercepts: Howzzat? Some stars are bigger than you in size and older than you in age. Then how can you be the pioneer of the pioneers? So there must be something after your end. Rather you tell us how all things were created even before you, what were the presource?

The Sol comments: I'm sorry. In reality I can't speak on the beginning of all creation. Because I'm not a sensible and intelligent creature like wo/man of my planet earth, so that I could have written or recorded the history of creation of the cosmos. Wo/man'll solve that mystery.

== How?

== That you have to know how. Insense the universe as the space amphitheatre. Floating in the super space. You'll find some specimens of the matter and living objects of the past present and future there. >> everywhere man is to search. Only then it will be found. With my clear, unhindered sunrays I can only remove the black screen of dark in front of your eyes >> so that you can behold yourself, comprehend yourself.

Movision One

When the dark screen of cloud is unveiled in the skytheatre, writer sees he is seated in an invisible open gallery of spectators poised in the oval orbit of a star in the empyrean. As if a multibillion times zoom in version of the human's Olympic sports gallery. He premembers how tiny was the gallery of Biswapur where he was watching the sports and games the whole day! In the dark above below on all sides are the luminous stars near and far. Here are present the replicas of all types of wo/man and children from the prehistoric time to now from all over the world. Besides these, arrive the intergalactical odd-looking, uncouth representatives from far & farthest parts of different milky ways and universes. Which are their heads or tails, hands and feet, eyes & noses cannot be assumed. Some bodies are the scum total of wo/man + animal. Among them some have come as spectators or observers from their respective worlds, some have come as news personnel, to send news and depicture coverage for their own newsgroups to their own worlds and to the different veins and by veins of milky ways and nebulas. Some are relaying running commentary for the different agencies of various earths. there are present the live & re-live templets & samplets of all kinds of aquatic, terrestrial, aerial and amphibious animals manimals and matters from all times and all places of all universes << all those who have participated in the cosmogonic currents of different times in some ways or other.

.... The rolling reel of the moving vision of the eternal time depicture is sometimes rewinded millions of years backwardly, sometimes fast forwarded many many years ahead, sometimes playing at the present time. On the crossroads, the boundaries of past present and future become superficial again & again. So goes on the cosmogonical moving vision of eternal times.

-M o v i s i o n r u n s o n-

.... Suddenly one brave woman journalist questions the sol: In what tactricks you've gathered all the replicas of the living and extinct world of nature in a moment in this cosmic fairy amphitheatre?

Sol: If we can drive back the time retrospective to the situation respectively when they were dissolved, we can get the true copy of them. In fact all the ingredients, energy, action and reaction are inherent within the celestial bodies of the cosmos >> only one has to trace it. You search, to discover that to some extent 1day.

== You're evading. Don't you want the inhabitants of all the planets and stars learn this mysterious natural technique and be benefited, so that they can come closer to one another? Become helpful to one another?

== Oh, surely I want — but only if it becomes fruitile for the welfare of all creatures everywhere, not, if it becomes futile. In response to your queries if I expose the techknowledge behind these, will you be able to assure me that these will not be misutilized in massive destructive war or the terrific genocides implanted by the horrorists worldwide? Can you give me assurance that these improved teachniques of science and techknowlogy will not be abused & misutilized to stubordinate and exploit the weaker people by powerful humans, weaker states by powerful states, weaker inhabitants of planets and stars by the powerful planets and stars?

== But one day they will know this techknowledgement. What will you do then?

== Oh yes, they will know. What they could not do in last thousands of years, then with advantech they will be able to achieve much more than that in a century and afterwards in a decade. It is better that the asset of civilization to come quicker; the danger of civilization should be deferred to later—the later the better. Here I will show only unto that far what could be perceived by the conception of humans, who are said to be the most intelligent creature in my kingdom of sundom. I can't say how everything happened, only I can say how it might or might not have happened. It might or might not. Yes and No.

== Still, won't you give us a sutra that passwords to crack the mystery of creation, existence and annihilation?

== 0 > P > E > C > L > E > P > 0

== Can't follow. If you please explain a bit—?

== I won't brand my sutra as explicable by science. Rather you may call it philosophic or observative it as one complements the other.

Here 0 = from the condition of n0n-existence of shaped matters in some epispheres of space to > P = floating subtle Particles concentrate enlarge and consolidate huge energy to > E = Explode divide separate splinter and diffuse to > C = Cosmic matters to > L = at the end of the stages of beginning, being, development, evolution & decay in the life of living & inanimate matters again to > E = Separate, Evaporate to > P = Being subtle Particles to > 0 = back to the n0n-existent n0n-shaped stuff in space.

As Precondition = 0 and Ex condition = 0

Therefore, Precondition = Excondition = 0

== But—

== No more but. You try to arrest the answers of all your but-s from this probable depicturization.

Thus sayeth the Sol and disappear veiled by the clouds. Everyone goes back to respective enclosures.

-Intermission-

In this stop gap audible is the hue and cry of different creatures of different stars, planets and humans diffused all over the amphisphere. Here friend & foe, eater & eatable, rich & poor, feeble & powerful, master & servant, renowned & unknown every body/thing are powerless in the autodiktat of the Sol. An American artiste, John Denver sings a song strumming guitar admiring of the Sol:

Sunshine on my shoulder makes me happy.....

Movision Two

.... The Sol begins to utter tardily: We shall now endeavor to observe the replica of the cosmos in the coup de theatre thru this tiny earth. Behold, removing the veil of layers of indistinct cloud and mist around, the earth is rising in the supersky.

O The sunrays brighten. The bluish inlightened splendid earth appears in the pictureel like a dazzling diamond in the blackground of universal horizon. The Sol continueth: Nobody knoweth the cause of creation properly. Yet only wo/man of earth giveth us some idea regarding this. Then let's see what is the human conception? Everyone cast your look at the earth.

Big Close Up. Zoom in

Explosession

.... Whence the triumphant chariot of human civitualization is progressing through constant clapping and encores of human beings, whence the world clock traversing billions of years, has reached the modern times, whilst there is being exhibited how in ultra improved ways the trees are being felled, the crops are being cut, pesticides being rained, tiger lion elephant rhino &c all animals are being caged in zoos, shoes and dress materials are being manufractured from killing peeling and processing the skin of animals and whence greens vegetables, fish meat of animals, fishes & birds are being cooked in kitchens, thence excepting wo/man— all the utterly shocked birds, beasts, fishes and plants protest in unison and demonstrate against the humans raising uproar : Fie man fie, shame man shame!

Fie:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Shameeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

.... As an act of sharp protest the furious Lion, as the king of beasts roars to order the Jackal Pandit to impeach man. Silence in the entire episphere. Only the inter-galactic news agents hurry to focus lenses silently on the Jackal Pandit.

Jackal Pandit pleads: Hukka hua, oh great Sol, who has conferred the right to wo/men to destroy the bird beast plants & fishes and natural habitatmosphere? Coming in the earth after most of all of us, who has wrongly made them so much intelligent and powerful to be able to foster their tyranny by devilization over all other animals and land water and sky? Hukka hua—

Sol: Your question is pertinent. Man may destroy me also one day. But I have no sense. So I can't respond to these esoteric questions. Better your arrow of complaints ====> is toward whom, let the humans answer you.

.... In this word of Sol a resonant human buzz diffuses alwhere. Here everybody is queen king all is pundit. Especially who had controlled people in different ages as rulers, suckers & tycoons, here they are ordinary. On the contrary who were philosophers writers litterateurs scientists or common people whose qualities were not acknowledged in the world, here they are revered.

.... However, at last a handicapped young man stands up and says: My name is Akhenaton. I was the pharaoh of Egypt in between 1388-1358 BC circa. I said in my theory of Aton that the ray of the sun is the only god — which is the creator of everything, life-giver and life-saver. Oh Sol, thou art the master of all!

.... Thereafter a yogini rises to say: I'm Gargi. I was the daughter of mahatma Bochku, a yogi of the Vedic age in India. Even after the address of the pharaoh Akhenaton, there remains the question >> the sun or the rays of the sun must remain in something. What's that?

Everybody is answerless.

Which is above the heaven, which is beneath the earth which is in between the earth and the heaven which is past, present and future — thus people sayeth — which remains spread through and through in which matter?

.... Now the matte haired highly spirited sage Jaggabalka responds: What is above the heaven, what in beneath the earth, what is inside this entire universe, what is past, what is present, what is future—thus people sayeth—all these remain spread through and through in the sky.

Gargi: In which matter the sky rests through & through?

Jaggabalka: Hey Gargi, the bramhans sayeth — he is that Akkhar. He is not obtuse. He is not atom. He is not short. He is not huge. He is not red. He is not a tender matter. He is not a shadow. He is not dark. He is not air. He is not sky. He is companion-less, juice-less, eye-less, ear-less, speech-less, mindless, vigor-less, life-less, faceless, He is immense. He is endless. outward less. He eats nothing and nothing eats him. Hey Gargi, in the direction of Akkhar Bramha, the moon, sun & sky remain grasped.....

== My prexperience is different. I had met the god Yahweh in the Horeb mountain in Sinai, says the prophet Moses clad in shepherd's dress.

At this some of the followers of Allah outcry sharply

==''Besides Allah there's no other god."

==''His seat is spread in the sky and world."

=="Allah rains water from the sky to enliven the dead land and has sprinkled all types of creature in that".

.... Hearing this some adherents of Christ uproar to lodge their counter claim: ''All the countries of the world are His and His Christ's kingdom, and He will rule ever and forever."

For this cause the crusades were held for a long time. If it needs we'll think for another.

.... Thus there begins heated debate and tumultuous brawl between the hard cores of the faiths regarding whose god is actually the creator of the macrocosm.

Seeing this jackal, dog, hyena and entire creatures and plants veer & jeer with scores of laughter. Calming them the Jackal Pandit argues: Hukka hua, hey Sol, the big ignorant, so to say bignorant humans brag themselves the most intelligent creature. Yet they will end themselves fighting with one another over their respective gods. Can they tell how their god looks?

.... This remark pinches the human amour-propre. So from the side of the nonidolaters it is said: How the god looks? He is formless.

Idolaters intercept them: S/he has so many shapes. S/he remains in countless forms and shapes. as Bramha, Bishnu, Maheswar, Parbati, Lakshmi, Durga, kali, Indra ....The ancient Greeks describe their gods >Minerva, Juno, Jupiter, Pluto, sun god Apollo, Jeus. Mayans staked claim with their god Kukulkan. Incas with Veeracocha and Pachamama.

.... Intervening them 1 atheist Historian quizzes: If the imagination of the almighty god is right, then in the last about ten thousand years how could the almighty gods came one after another, defying the previous 'almighty' ones? Moreover, any god of any name of any religion isn't obeyed by his/her/its non-followers—who vastly outnumber his/her/its followers. And without obeying that god, still the non-followers thrive. In that case what's the attitude of that god or deity toward those non-faithful non-followers? Also what's the pragmation of imaging these gods or deities having partial power, as not acceptable to all peoples? In fact if there were deities or gods who were effaced with the rise of Christianity in Europe, or when in Americas the different sects of native Indians and their godhouses were defaced and effaced by the colonialists and conquistaders, or in places and times as in India when Kalapahar or in China when San Yat Sen, were defacing images— then why those gods or their images were inactive and silent? Practically so much bloodshed has been or will be drained by many kinds of selfish motives, feigning and swearing in the name of religion and god and their sincere and pious followers, which no other means has been or will be able to do.

.... Then the philosopher Xenophenes rises to speak. Silence. His eloquence grips the audience: We've heard the description of forms and shapes of gods & goddesses. ''If ox, horse or lion had their hands and if they could draw pictures with those hands like man, then in the picture drawn by the ox— the deities would look like ox, in the picture drawn by the horse—they would look like horse. That means they would imagine their gods similar to their own figures..... That's why the gods and goddesses of Ethiopia are short-nosed and black, but the gods and goddesses of Thracia are blue eyed and blond."

.... This speech of Xenophanes clinched the sympathy & support of the rationalists along with the whole world of creatures which is crystallized in the words of Jackal Pandit: Hukka hua, we welcome the courageous propinion of the great Xenophenes and add with that if there remains anything called god, then also the god for the humans and the god for the animals ain't the same. Because if that's so, then s/he should treat humans and animals alike, without any partiality. But in fact it's seen that we the birds and beasts are chained, tortured, mistraced sacrificed. We have no carte blanche. Over and above not giving any proper justice to us for those crimes of wo/man engaging animals like horses, elephants, asses, mules, dogs et al as their carriers, the deities of man have humiliated us having chosen one or other animal as their vehicle and engaged us without paying any remuneration — as Durga engaged the lion, Ganesh the mouse, Laxmi the owl as their bonded labor.

All the world of birds and beasts shout slogans: Fie man fie, shame man shame!

Fie:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Shameeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

.... Jackal Pandit silences them and restarts: Hukka hua, hey Sol, for thousands of years innumerable precious species of birds fishes & beasts either have been murdered or extinct being forced to live in the polluted diktatmosphere created by the so called civilized but in fact bignorant, barbarian (wo)men. Has that crime of (wo)men any account with the record-keeper Chitra Gupta — the accountant of Jamraj— the death-god of wo/man!

Sol: Stop Stop. It's of no use to spend more words! It's a known fact in all times everywhere there have been and shall be forever the oppression by hook or by crook of the weak by the stronger, the fool by the more intelligent — tho that shouldn't happen by any means. So, my dear Jack, cut short your speech.

.... Jackal Pandit: Hukka hua, if the weaker is oppressed by the stronger forever, and if in the kingdom of (wo)man's god, or man-like god, these oppressions and injustices have no remedy then there arise these questions firmly: 1) either god is not there, 2) or s/he is unperturbed — it's useless if s/he is or not, 3) or s/he is not aware of the oppression, injustice and torture of the weaker by the stronger, 4) or s/he is aware but prefers to keep deaf and dumb, 5) or s/he is her/himself powerless to make wrong things right, 6) or s/he is one-eyed — s/he supports and mutilizes all these heinous crimes and in her/his direct or indirect instigation happen these criminalization. So, oh revered Sun, let the gods of (wo)man be theirs, but misutilizing the animals and birds as their vehicles without compensation they will freely roam — the beasts and birds have been bearing this humiliation of slavery forever—but they will bear no more. So the animals of the world unite — the embodiment of god for the animals must be different. (Pause for a moment). Bearing in mind the words of Xenophanes the great, the shape of god for animals should be that of one animal —

\- uproar of support by beasts. vehement protest by plants-

== Friends keep quiet, let me finish — and as jackal is the most beautiful, qualified, intelligent and the strongest of all animals — so shape of god of beasts should be that of a jackal — as the jackal-faced god Anubis of ancient Egypt — there should be no doubt about it. Now all the jackals delightedly encore...Hukka Hua.

.... Hearing this at first the birds and beasts are bewildered to believe what the jackal said! Then barring jackals all the creatures being furious on jackals go to teach them a lesson but here in the reign of the sun every body/thing is deactivated excepting the sun. So all of them angrily curse, boo, and hoot to flout the jackals in schadenfreude: Chuck out the knave jack, who allowed him to plead?

== The rascals are vile and timid. In the daytime they hide in fear. At night only they cry hukka hua. And foxing to be the god of all creatures! fooh!

A bitch barks: Gheu gheu, it's quite right god should look as an animal. But for that there are chimp, monkey, gorilla, lion, tiger, elephant, alligator, rhino, whale, dog ... who are warriors and more intelligent, stronger and good-looking species. Leaving these probeasts why a god should look like a timid pilferer ugly fox? Lion, the king of beasts roars: Very justified argument. The god should look as the Narashingha avatar— like a lion. The elephant contests: Not at all he must be like Ganesh—an elephant. Tiger claims god like a tiger. Every beast and bird claimed the god should look like its species. It seems war is impending among bird beasts and insects.

.... When termites, rats, or even locusts vaunt themselves more powerful than larger animals like tiger, lion &c: We've the capability to swallow the civilized bases of buildings and everything. (Wo)men haven't been able to wither us. The mosquitoes humble them humming: Not you, the god should look like us becuz even when mammoth, the predecessor of elephants had been extinct, but we had sucked the blood of dinos millions of years ago, and now we've been sucking & destroying impropertunist wo/men — our most formidable enemy, by injecting multiferocious diseases into them who ain't yet able to disinsect us even firing canon.

.... Meanwhile there brews a hyper storm among the resenting trees and plants that disapprove the proceedings waving their branches fruits and flowers. Being their representative one huge Bo, the tree of wisdom, pleads gently: the beasts and birds are now blaming the tyrant wo/man wholly to give themselves a clean chit. Though with the animal world we agree that man is the most fierce harmer species of all. Because destroying most of the forest recourses of our habitatmosphere mercilessly, they have set up human habitation. With our timber, they've built beams, furniture's, and posts of their civility and have been misusing us as fuel, exploiting our fruits, flowers, leaves, barks and roots in their own interest. Thus from the beginning of wo/man's arrival how many jungles have been mistraced by them — there's also no record of that in the ledger of Sir Chitra Gupta. Thus ruin of forest means change & poisoning of climate that will again bring catastrophic devastation for the entire world of living and matter. But friends, wo/man destroys forest yet they also sow seeds, plant tree and cultivate. Some black-bees and birds also help spread the trees and forests by pollination and scattering of seeds. But apart from that most of the animal world ruins forest. How many branches and leaves are lost only to feed an elephant daily?

And not to speak of wo/man. The civitualisation for which the wo/man touts with amour propre, was in fact in the beginning a sylvan civilization. Now where there is debarrened arid land, there might have been forest. Heterovorus humans digest plants and other animals, climates, oxygen, minerals, clouds everything in the outmosphere. As if the earth is for humans to live their lives only. Not for other plants and animals. And our extracted essence is only to be burned as incense sticks in human's god's house or in their auspicious and festive moments or only to be used as their fuel & medicine? Our flowers are only for charming the minds of wo/man to be used on their occasions? If this happens to be the justice of the human's god then that god is for impropertunist wo/man only — not not for the plant world.

Supposed to be impartial

god in fact often acts partial

and mostly favor

the powerful or clever!

.... So if we're to burn then what's our benefit of burning for wo/man? If we're to burn, let us the entire plant world, burn in the sun and set the devil human devilization ablaze and turn them to ashes. Let the poisonous plants and herbs inflict poison on human life to destructure them.

Almost all the plant world support this statement by waving their branches, leaves twigs and flowers.

Oh great Sol, which giveth food that's god. Tree giveth food that's god. Which giveth medicine that's god.

Sheltered under tree so many wise sages climax their meditation findings and practice considering the tree as god. Oh Sol, the illuminator, there must be no doubt that god resembles tree.

-Strongly endorsed by the flora, enraged confrontation of the fauna-

Sol : Hey Flora, your statement is justified unto this limit. But hereafter you'd combat among yourselves like the fauna and purport the god to look like your own respective species of plants. The pine tree will claim the god to resemble pine — the banyan like banyan, bo like bo / and so & so. This umpirage of the sun dumbs the flora and fauna.

Then 1 idolater places the demand: As human being is the most brainy and sophisticated of all species, so wo/man's god/dess is the god/dess for all the plants and creatures and that god/dess should look like wo/man.

Boisterous counter demand of creatures & plants

The nonidolaters contend: The god has no form & figure.

The idolaters contest: The god has form & figure.

== You're superstitious pagan image worshipers.

== Image is nothing but symbol — by which commoners can easily identify and concentrate. And if worshipping symbol is superstition then why you worship one or other symbols?

== How? Irate query of the nonidolaters.

== If god is within everything everywhere, then what's the use of building godhouses and prayer-places? In fact prayer-places are also symbols. Besides you've also the system of praying with different signs and symbols, graves, stones, chains & lockets etc with religious rituals & implications; and in many cases some sections of you pray before the images and pictures of prophets. These are also symbol worshiping, and so ain't you superstitious too?

.... This time some propportunist hardcore exremistiques propel altercations, brawling and scuffling between both the sides in this fluke to encash power, publicity, money, fame and to hawk faux blessedness. But whom they want to foment with this violent tactricks — almost all those multitude of common peoples, who are generally often tormented by the few faux religious ruffians — here the peoples are fearless under the umbrella of the sun and want to solve everything not by force, but by peaceful means. So the peoples rebuff these tormentors vehemently in unison: Why do you fake faith to be the authorized sole agents and saviors of your faith by which you swear, will sanctify your indiscriminate killings of innocent peoples who may be of your faith or of other faith, in your own interest of your fancied venture into heaven?

While more peoples charge:

Why do you consider your religion

and it's holy & sacred books and rituals

are holier and more sacred

than those of the other religions?

Unphazed, these troublers announce loudly: War, war, we want blood of infidels.

To calm down the tension guru Nanak sermons: "There is but one God who rules the earth, the heavens, and the entire universe". While Ramkrishna appears and rubs the dream cream of peace: "So many faiths that many paths." : "Hatred does not put an end to hatred; hatred ceases by love", simply conveys the enlightened Buddha.

(~!~)

.... These sermons ease tensions a bit. The Sol summarised: Before you go on head on collision regarding the form and shape of god, you're to determine at first>>

1) If there is any such thing as god or not?

2) If there is god there are how many or just one?

3) Whether as described in different times, in different regions, in different names, in different figures or non-figures, as different gods, are in fact the same one god or as many gods as prescribed & described?

4) In case it is one, what's his/her/its/their name; moreover do the god/dess/es themselves know all the names by which s/he / they are called by the devotees of different religions/sects throughout all the different ages?

5) If there're different gods for other creatures & plants?

6) If god is not one, there are how many in what names?

7) Whether s/he/it/they is/are the creator of everything in the macrocosm & microcosm?

8) If s/he/it/they is/are acquainted / unacquainted, apathetic, neutral about everything of the creation?

9) And if neutral, then what's her/his/its/their work?

10) Can anybody produce any direct proof of god/s that address to redress these problems?

.... The claimbuoyant gurus and protagonists of different religions and communities stake their claims: We've actually seen and talked to the god. Only who believe will be able to see god.

This propinion of the gurus is refuted by some critrics, atheists and scientists: Only you yourselves have seen and talked to god this won't do — first you're to show the god to everybody, then everybody will trust. Not to believe before seeing — believing after seeing. Moreover if the god is got only by thinking, believing in mind, then what harm is there if we believe that there's no god?

.... Here some followers of the envisionary sage Charbaak add: Is there anything called god — so that they'll show? don't storm your brain on god. So long you live, happily live./ Borrow money to eat honey.

Now the gurus of all creeds are enraged to curse in unison unequivocally: Go to hell you all nastyks heathens and kefirs. You'll ruin.

.... Some bees and ants concert: What's the use of cursing them? They claim to be wise intellectual rationalists. Let them answer that if god has not made, who has done the diligent social system of us that are far more improved than that of wo/man?

Swarms of butterfly quiz flying: If not god, who has emblazoned our wings of colorina?

The Dahlia flowers interrogate: If god has not adored, who else has beautilized us?

Sol: Oh, Rationalists, Scientists and Atheists, have you got any answers to these questions which you can directly testify and show everybody?

.... Newton pleads: The universe didn't spontaneously begin to form but was set in motion by God.

Disputing this Stephen Hawking opines his Grand Design: Because there is a law such as gravity, the Universe can and will create itself from nothing. Spontaneous creation is the reason there's something rather nothing, why the universe exists, why we exist...It is not necessary to invoke God to light the blue touch paper and set the universe going.

Another scientist argues: How it's possible to probe & prove everything of the creation and evolution from the beginning of atom till now? We can't prove now everything directly. But does it infer that the entire cosmos is the creation by god?

Sol: You yourself are unable to show and testify the cause of creation as yet, then how can you claim straight evidence of existence of god from the believers! Howzthatttt?

Thundering encore from all believers of god

Sol verdicts: However you continue to try clear provement that there's no god and in that case, how everything of creation happened. until and unless you can demonstrate that, in the meantime if we're to ply between imagination and conception >>> then ain't it better to depend on poets and writers who're the architexts of imagination? So what do you think, writer?

Writer: In case of imagination & conception, there's a commonness between pro-god and pro-science peoples.

S: How?

W: Perhaps you have noted what Democritus had observed nothing to exist except space and atoms; and now Hawking propines of spontaneous existence because of gravity out of nothing. But if now somebody like the saint Gargi might again recur the same question —> who and how this nothingness or space and atoms had created? Then again some godman like Jaggabalka, Moses or Akhenaton might resolve some of their kind of god had created these. So both theists and atheists hyposuppose their proposition still echoes revolving and soaring around the same basic question as had been already was asked much before in the Vedas: "Who verily knows and who can here declare it, whence it was born, and whence came this creation?"

.... Pro-god people suppose that god is the cause of creation existence and destruction. Then the different religions imagine the name/s and form/s or formlessness of their respective god/s. Likewise the pro-science peoples also suppose or hypotheses something at first, then they resolve after examination, solution, and observation.

.... As in mathematics they first suppose to take it for granted the values of 0 as said to be discovered by Aryabhatta / and /or by the Mayans, and other digits, decimals numbers etc. Because if these aren't presupposed, how can questions and equations be solved & answered? So why all these brouhaha? Because the differing answers differ. Their question remains basically the same in other words.

The basic question is ?

Man is godmade or god is manmade?

S: This is rapid fire. What's the answer to this vital question? Is there god?

W: My answer is yes and no.

There is god to believers

no god to nonbelievers

and may be or may not be

dormant god matters little

to god-doubting godormants

S: Then what truth should people believe or unbelieve for sure?

W:

All is sure is for the very time being only

Truth is momentary for the time being

relative, illusive and elusive

Just as you believe in your belief

and unbelieve in other belief

so others have also the same right

to unbelieve in your belief

and believe in their belief

The time in which we're now in which universe, it may be supposed that many such earlier preuniverses had been dissolved into molecules in the space. When today's cosmosphere will be dissolved. again there will be new creation. thus from > start to > finish. from finish > to > start. then where's the beginning? Where's the end?

There cannot be the end

of the end in the end

S: You couldn't assume you've answered your questions yourself in your word. So to sum up—

Worlden everything is for the time being.

Every beginning is for the time being.

Every ending is for the time being.

Whenever & wherever you start is your start.

Wherever & whenever you end is your end

The beginning has been triggered off— now only think of your end. Moreover and moreever—

Ahead you go for the glow

Uttering this the Sun signed off to become unseen.

Go for the Glow

.... Writer's invision fizzles. Opening his eyes he sees where the cosmic amphitheatre is distraced? Where evaporated all the exposession of the celestial dreamatic jungles, birds and animals and all the past and present peoples, flora and fauna in the grosspective sublime ensemble! Where dissolved his suspacious angst and realm of dreamdom?

.... The heat, fever, pain, and weakness of his body are respited. By the magic wand of which he feels rejuvenated, cheerful with enerzealous. As if someone has touched into his depth. Aromance in the room. Aromance resumes in his mind. Aromance of the past. He turns on the light. Yes, on the table is a bouquet of night queen and burning sandal incense sticks! The room stays tuned to proper housekeeping. Clean! His books and manuscripts are neatly mothered! No torn pieces of papers scattered in the floor. No cobweb on wall! The king and queen from the pics stare at his face and smiling. Their faces index that once we've seenjoyed so many nights lying embedded here in this bed in sextacy: and now who art thou the feral interloper?

.... But the smell of his heartrack is known only to his heartmate. Then is the aromance fogged by her? He is seeing wrong? Smelling wrong? Actually is it the signal for him to proceed in a new way with renewed, spiritized, recharged enerzeal? ... The way where there's the aromance of fleur ... again that flower-showering Hijol tree depictions his mind ... No-h, he wants to restart de novo. Hereafter he abruptly discovers a big grandi flora kept beside his pillow.

((!))  
Y  
Taking the fleur in hand he's utterly amazed! A very rare Bramhakamal flower. Here! Of course plucked at least 2days back — but has been kept, as fresh as possible. To feel the touch and smell of the unblemished flower he rubs it in his face nose eyes and chest. But how this Bramhakamal crops up here?! He reminds he had a plan with Hiya that one day being grown up they will go to the Himalayas in search of Bramhakamal. He inchurns in excitement. In his heart all on a sudden he feels the implience of unwithering ever-blooming Bramhakamal >> the bud of which turns into lines of opus in tune of his mind con amore:

i Won't Forget Bramhakamal

((()))  
||

In my heart ever blooms

a grandi flora Bramhakamal

i won't tear Bramhakamal

i won't pluck Bramhakamal

i won't forget the Bramhakamal

None to solace me now

Mispromises raining since my sense

Now i can't afford to buy happiness

No heartmate to bail me revive

Manufractured by random debacles

still i stroll on my way

In my heart ever blooms

a grandi flora Bramhakamal

i won't tear Bramhakamal

i won't pluck Bramhakamal

i won't forget the Bramhakamal

i drag trouble to grab me

i seek not to plagiarize

i am my own epitome

at nobody's feet i seek asylum

that's my doom. that's my bloom

In my heart ever blooms

a grandi flora Bramhakamal

i won't tear Bramhakamal

i won't pluck Bramhakamal

i won't forget the Bramhakamal

But even after composition of the song the librettist feels more words are in store for secreation.

Often a hurt retreator in the war of life

not backed on the blue horse of Raja Pratap

chased by dire hazard of rout — my innate foe

i'm hid in jungle of people. All kind doors shut

Today wining = politricks of wooing + bragging

Success = extra perks reward car house beauties

But to me >>> that success quickly bubbles

Like a worm crawling from stone age

affronted by tidy Chemical Ocean

i have no way to cross. Still unruffled

when in my heart ever blooms

the composed Bramhakamal

Expressed by its hint engrossed in its stint

honored by its award healed in its reward

aired by its fragrance stirred by its parlance

i won't tear Bramhakamal

i won't pluck Bramhakamal

i won't forget the Bramhakamal

.... Versifying the proem with le mot juste, his heartigo is now eased. He strolls to the roof via verandah. Now in dark there seems no difference between the sky and the sea. There in the bottom are dots of light near and afar ... On the above dots of stars...Some bohemian wanderer clouds. Also waking street lamps. Most of the hotel and shop glow-signs are now off. Only in a nearby house in one room light is on. Somebody sleeping. Yes he has visited that room 2 days ago. He assumes it is Songket who called the writer at his room, after meeting him in the Tea Circle café with Romnis Pundit that day.

.... He zooms his eyes toward the ocean toward the skyline of the ending night. Here and there somewhere may be someone or other soulitarian, waiting for him, blooming. But for the time being he is alone in the silent solitary universe, yet not alone. As a cosmozen, his near and afar alwhere elicit that silent ethereal inexplicable universal call of universion! To respond that call he now wishes to bid adieu to Biswapur for this time. Just before sometime here at last the poet heralded the implience of 'biswa', that is cosmic sutra to spiritize his oeuvre—which has already begun. Now his mind and body has become propitious. In everquest he plans to get the first bus of dawn to invigorate the journey towards his opus. The high tide in the ocean is about to thrust shortly.

(((((((((()))))))))

C o s m o s p h e r E 1 D e a r s p h e r E

1.4
Chapter 4: Risen World

Dysphoric Hearterrace

.... Sleep evanesces slowly at the approach of dawn, but he fears to open the eye petals. As if anguish will not besiege the mind if the eyelids are closed. As if he will be able to sleep again and the anguish will subside. But anguishes are like water hyacinths....... If one wants to dip pushing these away, these again encircle from all sides....... And simultaneously just like a porcupine's thorn, a thorn pierces deeply into the heart of consciousness unwarrantedly. The heartshore is submerged by melancholic w~a~v~e~s. It seems if he could unawake forever / if he could dip deeply in the sleepy sleep / if he could remain unsurfaced, it would be better. When the mind rises he wonders, what has he been accumulated so far up to his youth, so that he can remind something worthy, or the world can remind him? He can mind nothing such as to remind. He preckons it would be better if mind does not exist in this world.......As if humen women roam in their birthing suits in the prehistoric age, as if there are no civitualization no science no culture no light no lovely love stub no prestige & prejudice no victory defeat malice envy hate pride tide nothing...... As if anything more had not happened would not happen / had not come would not come..... As if throughout the universe there is only the kingdom of the king sun & the queen moon and only the darkness darkness & darkness / darkness within darkness / blindense darkness.....

.... As now it is darkness.

In darkness the crickets cry

Darkness outside the window in the fig tree

Darkness hanging in the window curtain

Suddenly he wonders if anybody is watching him surreptitiously?

He looks at the window but cannot see anybody.

That anguish revives and excruciates alone in darkness.

He gets up from bed. 3:51 am. changes his dress. goes out on the road. the street lights at the end of night drowse in yellow sleep. a few haggard street dogs chase him sometime yelping with great enthusiasm.

.... Leaving the lighted road he moves on to the short cut diversion through dark field. By the side remains the Cosmovil Cooperative Farm. The dim beam of the signboard of the farm having a yellow nap. This agricultural fishery and small-scale industrial complex, situated at this newly emerging unknown unheard of small town Biswapur, covers a few square kilometers. Fragrance of watery paddy field is floating in the air. The morning star * in the western sky. While walking he approximates is anybody following him secretly? He looks behind. cannot find anybody. still he is unable to walk quickly. he has not yet regained full strength in his legs. The physician has advised him morning walk at the seaside open air to keep his body fit and legs moving. He walks leaving behind the citizen lightings. The tattering clouds loitering in the sky. The furious roars of the sea will be explicit gradually from a short distance. The far spreading rays of revolving light from the lighthouse beside the olden fort will be visible over the sea. He cannot understand when he reaches the seashore being hypnotized by the call of the night sea. Nearing the sea he sees the sea as it is the sea, the sea as flowing forever. He wonders that according to geoscientists the Indian Ocean was formed in the Eocene epoch of the Tertiary period of this Cenozoic era. Was this Bay of Bengal here then in its primary stage as it is now? The revolving light touching & crossing waves again & again. This light shows directions to ships. Oh light, can you show my way? What should I do now? Can you fill with light the entire darkness within me? No no, if the entire darkness is turned to light, how light can be differentiated as the light? .... These doubtlook & questions he calls for the whirling light. With great expectation / he gazes at the flickering light. The dazzling rays / again plunge the waves / in puzzling dark...... like when the glaring light of the operation theatre was on, his eyes were drowning in darkness, and before he could make out what play would or would not start then, it seemed to Songket quickly for a moment that, he is lying in a white deathhouse, surrounded on all sides by whiterobed masked enemies who are coming nearer to catch hold of him with sharpened knives scissors etc. arms & weapons..... And masked sisters supplying them weapons. Songket wished to ask loudly..... You docs, do you wanna lull me to sleep forever? Will I be able to play again?.....He could not get the doc's reply. Only Songket could think that behind the mask, the black young sister—who was providing weapons—resembled very much to that aboriginal young girl whom he had met at the Marangburu festival, who being a bit intoxicated guzzling mohua liquor, did burst into waves of laughter and pulling his shirt said: Hi, seeee what this crazzzzzzy guy sayin' listen—

Cut

.... That leg was not amputated, it is quite ok for walking freely, but not fit for boyish plays. What else can be more miserable & painful for a rising player? He hurls this quiz gazing at the sea. A pack of waves crumble and tumble down washing his feet to rap: You're so mean! ever quest, how vast the ocean, the earth so vaster & the cosmos even v-a-s-t-e-r. The human passions hopes desires so i-m-m-e-n-s-e, how trifle are your sufferings in comparison to those? Think of those and your pain'll reduce and disappear.

== Ocean, you're so big. Too generous. I'm a common man. My periphery is too small.

The sea surges into uproar: No. You see I may be large, but I've size measure & limitations. While wo/man has no such limitations. Because s/he has infinite storage of intellections & knowledge. S/he can be meanest as well as only s/he can be greatest. So if you can, try to be greater, sharing greater sufferings of many others.... Enouncing this the innumerable waves drumpet simultaneously in a high uproar, or as if Songket hears the concert of lahara of the past present and future periods of time beaten at a time in Trital in thousands of Tablas.

+

Dha~dhin~dhin~dha

3

dha~dhin~dhin~dha

0

ta~tin~tin~ta

1

tete~dhin~dhin~dha

.... All the stresses and distresses accumulated within Songket during the last over than three months begins to reduce and recede slowly & slowly .......Kicking off with the excitements of chasing the ball in front of the goal—tussle—tackled & dashed by an opponent player, his falling down being seriously injured in the knee. The sad compassionate eyes of the anxious coach Singhda. Who often reminds his wards:

You are right if you win the fight

You are wrong if you lose outright!

.... But he knows very well that from now on he will not be able to fight in the playfield. That farewell to playground lying in stretcher, passing through the anxiety of sympathetic playmates and beloved spectators. The doctor has signaled him danger if he plays again. So good-bye, sportive spectators, au revoir! The generous ocean eases Songket's long-standing overload of stress and strains. Though he often comes to the sea, yet the sea so long did not solace him. Songket now seated on a stone block, shaped like a black buffalo. People call it Buffalo Horn. Till now the water playing with his feet. But now the waves are dancing stancing surrounding the Buffalo Horn. It is about to be drowned. So he is to leave. This is the reigndom of seawaves.

Morning Shows The Shore

.... Plenty of little crabs & oysters. scattered on the shore. Flocks of sea gulls fly in search of food. The waves are supplying them with little trifle fishes and the flighter birds are rushing out to that spot. May be the satisfied birds are thanking the waves for dishing them out the fishes. But can those fishes, driven by waves on the shore, dare to complain the waves: Why are you driving us to the mouths of the wicked birds and demonic wo/men and depriving us of our right to exist? The focus of the lighthouse has gone off a while ago. The original skylight likes to come to light. Though it seems the sun will be hiding behind the cloudy curtain today, but it fails to disguise itself fully. It's slight blushing is imprinted on the hem of the clouds. Irritating wind. a bit chilly. A man at a short distance, is waiting eagerly holding the end of a cord tightly, throwing bait of a pierced small fish at the other end of the cord into the water. Songket approaches him to ask: Hey, gotta catch? Focusing his sight firmly attached in the cord, the man utters nothing, only stoically nods his head. Deserting the shore he ups to the seaside path — Beauty Way. School and college girls—young women notably pass and bypass through this way. So losing its real name — Gandhi Way it has turned to Beauty Way in womenclature.

Streetlights are still on. It is indistinct morn.

The nearly lonesome street.

A cycleful of newspapers / A vanful of uprooted vegetables.

A truckful of sucktioned milk / A carriageful of overflowing hay.

On both sides of the Beauty Way

Rows of trees flourished by flowers.

....Under the trees on both the sides, a few health seekers and ambitious sports boys & games girls are exercising jogging and shifting away. With them running, panting breathlessly & spiriting out are their invisible shadows.

.... Today no known face is seen among them, what he finds on other days. All brand new faces from schools & colleges. Newly new faces. Though in this way he also used to run, only some times ago. With subtle pain he realizes that next ones are gradually capturing the place of his generation. Again when these present new ones will grow older, they will also be naturally replaced by next generation. No place in the world remains vacant. It always fills up. Such will be surely.

Note, has his team gone invalid without him? Among the old ones he only finds Monsieur Nadeau practicing in rigorous penance to slash the weight and measure of his huge belly. The sleep of sea view hotels behind the trees gradually thins. Such dawning is memorized to him. This is his olden morning numbness.

Walking ahead, at a round turning of the road

joins a lane, rushing from the seashore.

On both sides row of orderly trees.

Overflowing mild fragrance of Sheuli flowers. While passing through that spot Songket sees from distance, a girl slowly becoming vivid in the twilight. Not a paragon of beauty. Yet dreambuoyant Songket thinks there is some something in her face. Shoreless chemystery in her dreamatic eyes. Just like this mystic twilight.

The one glances at the one in soft & amiable eyes

descends eyes again glances, descends eyes...

The other glances at the one in soft & amiable eyes

descends eyes again glances, descends glances...

While the one's eyes roll over the other >>

then the other's eyes roll over the one <<

just like the rolling light of the lighthouse.

.... While passing her, he smells the cosmetic fragrance of her body..... the fragrance of Sheuli flowers.... In his hearterrain rapidly increasing showers..... He had gotten this fragrance at this spot, this path, this time, a few months back; before he was rounded off in his last match ......ceaseless showers.... They had seen each other for a few successive days at this wee hour. He heard her name Shrota ....rapidly increasing showers.......

Omni Pundit's Fizza 1

.... Thence in one fine morning session of adda at the Tea Circle when Songket was introduced to an outsider writer, a visitor at Biswapur for the first time, that day as soon as he mentioned this girl to the nascent scientist Romnis Pundit ( aka Sarbagga = omniscient >> Omni Pundit), he grilled Songket probing

Omni Pundit: Eh Song, you look like a virgin in this line, at last thou too brute-us? you seem docile. in fact you're an

Earthworm in house

Outside shrewmouse

Chicks look at u too then in fluke? lubber lover? eh? all ladventurers! couldn't they find other ladyventurers? while others remain starving?

Songket: Ah-ha, nobody looks flukes at me. Often I see her at dawn. That's why I'm asking u Pundit _da_ —

== Advices can't be doled out free of cost. consultancy charge is there. Hey Faltu, bring me a 3rd degree cuppa in Song's account. Now tell me, where do u see her?

== At the stoppage of Satyen Bose Lane & Beauty Way crossing.

== How'z her appearance?

== Not a piece of angel, but glamorous, goable.

Faltu serves tea.

{Sipping the 3rd degree cup in a serious voice} Hum, height?

== Might be 5'3"-4"

== Breadth?

== That means?

== That means VS = Vital Stat. All tiro dreamatist!

{Being embarrassed) Have I measured?

[Making faces) Have I m e a s u r e d? All novice rubbish, baboon—Hylobytes Hulook, haven't u any assumption?

== Well, might be 34-25-36.

Pundit _da_ spills the beans rubbing his unruly hair with one hand: If i tell/ you'll tell/ Pundit _da_ is telling tale. But it must be that awry-faced Shrota Chakraborty. Undoubtedly. lives at Satyen Bose Lane. father a govt employee. transferred here a few months ago. reads at Michael Madhusudan College. plays flays at the college girls' cricket team. I've seen. but plays flays nothing extraordinary. learns turns musicusic. Tho I haven't heard.

Menterrogation

.... Cut to Ceaseless showers...... Shrota waits at this stoppage to avail the first morning bus as a part of her daily road map. Today too Songket leaves Shrota behind and goes towards the Tea Circle at the stand. Shrota waiting / at the stoppage standing. Shrota knows him, Songket his name. Looking at Songket, Shrota today too recalls her childhood pal Mon _da_ ..... In such dawns as if in childhood shorts those tiny little hands legs sensitive face eyes...... Shrota minds this 1 funtasy in mind. Whoever she finds, in reverse look up she primagines how'll be h(is)er face-cutting when grown up, or how was h(is)er face-cutting at h(is)er childhood? Or how h(is)er mother's face might be then, how h(is)er father's face might be then?

.... Prior today, in the few mornings, or when she saw his last play at the soccer ground, as well as when he was being carried back by stretcher to hospital injured and pain-struck, then, and today also when she is trying to primagine his childhood face, the face of her childhood mate Monda surfaces on her mind. [The first morning bus comes to stoppage, Shrota gets in.] That very Monda, who had not met her being hurt, when they were leaving Banglagram. Only when the train began to move, she saw 2 timid tender sensitive eyes beaming through his gaze from distance: Well, going away, all right, go. Never shall we meet again. And in fact they have not met. Who knows if they will meet someday? If they meet now they won't be able to recognize each other. [Shrota gets down. Enters her tutor's home.] It seems Songket in his early years was perhaps like Manda. But how he would look at his old age?...... with gray hair and beard. No it doesn't suit. This prelusion is worthless. [Shrota gives / takes her lesson from her tutor.] How Songket's mother's face might be? [Shrota smiles styles prattles rattles with her coeds and chums. Boards the bus. Returns home.]

.... How Songket's mother's face might be? Shrota's mom has been sick for a long time. Always she lies down or sits. Seldom she rises and looks after home affairs like a parent. Impossible gloomy silence, she does not like. She fancies to hug and fondle mom like her childhood days. But mom's face is cold calm mum. How Songket's mother's face might be? His face is girlic. In such a feminic face, long hair / earrings / and wearing — what women generally wear—necklace in neck, thin bangles in hand sounding rinijhini. But to sum up / it follows / as if Songket clad in ladies' garments, only doubling the age. But in breasts?...... It is funny to funtasize Songket a woman. Absurd / it is heard, in the past men used to play female roles making up themselves as women in opera. It looks like hijra or eunuch if dressed that way. Shrota's father has gone out on official tour. Her younger sister not yet returned from morning school. She prepares tea & breakfast, gives her mom and haves herself. Looks at sea / while sipping tea. The sky is cloudy. It has been raining now and then during the last few days. If such weather hangs on the ensuing college fest a few days later will be rained out. How Songket's mother's face might be? Will it rain today? She reads weather report:

Weather Forecast

Staff Reporter: The weather farecasts the sky will be sometimes cloudy sometimes clear today. A few showers likely on Monday. The maximum and minimum temperatures on Sunday recorded as 32.9 (+1) & 26.2 degree C (normal) respectively.

.... If it rains then / what can be done? ...... How Songket's mother's face might be? She starts to cook. After cooking she will go to college dishing out her mother and sister their meals and having her own. But Sakina is not yet coming with milk and marketing. She looks at the sea through the window. insignificant. just like everyday. She begins knitting wool in gaps of cooking. she mistakes in stitching. stitches fall. stitches forward. increases ahead. yarns forward. decreases stitches. mistakes again. turns matted. at last she opens the Easy Knitting book and finds out the pattern:

Pattern: Peacock Tail (12 stitches)

1st row---* Knit 2 stitches together, yarn

forward 4 stitches, 2 stitches together

2nd row—all reverse

3rd row— ,, forward

4th row— ,, reverse

After the end start from the beginning.....

* Mark the place to begin with the repetition.

.... This repetition everyday bores her. Yet she has to kill time. How many cardigans she will knit for her sister? Shrota loves to dreamagine that day when she will knit soft woolen garments with her heartful colors for her heartistic heartrekker. She will take his measure herself. If that heartmate impatiently moves, she will rebuke him mildly saying: Keep quiet, can't u be patient for a few moments? That tall handsome healthy himagic man..... Songket's face flashes her mind. Phew, is he handsome? Having no means of livelihood, only his face is illusive. How his mother's face might be? She knits & knits & knots again. At this time Sakina returns from the bazaar.

Politricks @ Work Circle

.... Sakina promptly goes toward her home delivering milk, consumables and the residue money. Lots of works she has to do. She will have to attend the farm after cooking and eating. Sakina is not a local woman. She was a housewife of Chingrikhali village near the Sundarbans region that may be how many miles east afar from here she does not know. Her husband used to catch fish at estuaries in dense forest. There innumerable creeks bogs rivers tributaries estuaries are fulfilled with wriggling fishes. In those areas of tiger's havens, under tigers' paws, the Royal Bengal Tigers are the suzerains. Why should they let the trespassing men go out of their grab? So, young fishermen often hunted by the tiger lords to be the prey for their grand feast. Village after village / village after village / village after village after village after village, mourn the loss of their young men.

As hunger obeys no prohibition by mom sister wife

,, hunger obeys nobody's tears

Tiger obeys no vowing at pir's hermitage

,, obeys no swearing by any name of god

,, obeys no offering to sylvan goddess

,, obeys no offering to tiger-trapping charm & spell.

.... Hunger does not obey, does not obey but what to do what to eat? When fish is not available some of them drop down to death by the kissing of snakes, while collecting wild vegetables snails shellfishes water lily. There is a wretched cooperative of fishermen in the village. The influential 5 heads of the village manipulate machinery there. So Sakina's young man went for fishing with a boat owner. He had only a piece of worn out cloth to wear, a burning pair of eyes and a dreadful hungry hollow in his belly. With this sumtotal he was dragged to the hollow of a Royal Bengal Tiger. What the Sakinas do then? Shake hair and pluck flower? No, that is impossible, as they are to pacify hunger. After various futile attempts to get a job, she had to lay her begging hands at the door of the moneylender Chulluswami of Chingrikhali. He did not pay without interest—something or other, one had to pawn to him. Sakina hath nothing but her body which she had to keep mortgage to Chulluswami. This was not the moneylender's real name. Spoilt indolent youths of the village calleth him in this name secretly; and in course of time Chulluswami becometh his name for these reasons:

1. They sayeth his secret indigenous distillation (=chullu) business operates under the kind indulgence and mild rapprochement of the political party leaders and rulers.

2. The rumor runs that in the aforesaid business \+ also for serving the give and take gladventure of the valuable bodily greetings massage of him and the esteemed customers, about 40 (= challis > chullu) sexicutive maids are in secret service. So who is the owner of this life + wife rendering chullu + the sex post facto owner (= swami) of the bodies of the maids, he is >> Chulluswami.

.... Thus it was going, thus it would go, had that area not been havocked by disastrous cyclone & flood nearly 2 years ago. Her last bond, her little son swayed away in floodwater. The boys and girls cadre of the Rebel Party went there at that time for rescue work. With Mohiuddin of that party, Sakina came to this Biswapur. With the effort of the Mohiuddins, after a brief training she got a job at the Cosmovil Cooperative Farm. Except that, she brings milk and marketing for a few houses. With all these she manages a modest living somehow. For the last few months that Mohiuddin has been confined under detention act. When will he be released?

Returning home Sakina does her little cooking in quicktime. Eats. Hastens towards the farm. For the head of the department of fishery of the govt. will visit their fishery today. So petty officials are very active to show their efficiency today. Reaching there she ears from her 1 colleague that Mohiuddin came here this morning, being released, and enquired about her. Again he will come in the evening / to join the meeting.

Next scene >> Meeting place

.... At the background of the stage a drawing of a huge fish **(.)**

... .On the stage > (from Left to Right) president of the cooperative, local people's representative, district magistrate, the fisheries' head.

The front row > (from R to L) govt. officers, local police chief, bosses of panchayats & Cosmovil Coop Farm etc.

Back rows > farmers, fishermen, laborers and so & so & such & such bros & sis— the general back benchers will have to be supposed to sit fit at the rear seats as usual. A mediaman is recording the proceedings.

.... The co-op secretary reading the report: "..... We in our 10 bighas fishery with govt assistance, have netted about 7462 kg fish this year, by cultivating about 182 kg katla, common carp, silver carp, mirgale &c.........."

The Fishery Head: ".......Due to shortage of trawlers we are unable to spread the network of extensive fishing to the extent of 40 thousand sq miles area in the Bay of Bengal. But trawlers of several foreign countries use to catch fish here. Even some foreign trawlers are trespassing. Hiding their countries' flags they enter into our sea area, catch fishes and runaway. So we need more equipped trawlers. The govt. is considering to supply more modernized boats to the seafarer fishermen...

Cut

Change of Scene

From amongst the listeners 1 stands up to intravene, the mediaman promptly stops recording.

== But Sir, only 2 questions.

! What the govt. is doing to free the oppressed people from the stuffocating trap of bureaucratic lethargy and redtapism?

!! And what step has the govt. taken to stop the large-scale theft? Here, we can say that a substantial quantity of fish raised from sea and from the fish cultivated at the co op ponds by the hard toil of the fishermen, is mistraced being secretly sold away before hitting the markets and govt stalls. Would it be possible, if there were no black hands of a few co-op directors & misleaders behind this misventure?

It is people who are at the receiving end

for all the misdeeds done by the rulers

or the bigot evilians

posing as kind civilians

== Sir, if u want we can mention the names of the misappropriators

Cut

.... Inscene > A few white dressed volunteers dragging away that speaker forcibly. The speaker falls down in the tug of war. A few Rebel Party cadres rush and raise and reguard him up. A jostling is about to start. The speaker himself pacifies the cadres: Sham, u all stop.

Sham: U re released only today. U re still sick Mohida, they've grounded U and we'll stop? (Grasping Mohiuddin's hand), U 're hurt. Go home. We're here.

Mohi: No no I ain't hurt. Should I go home leaving u now? If there's a scuffle? I'm all right. Taking the unsuspecting general people as hostage and scapegoat, politics has mostly been the benevolent mask of civilized evilization. I Know they won't let us speak. But how long they'll be able to resist?---

.... All his associates convince him: You are ill and hurt. We promise that under any provocation, we won't let happen any scuffling that might discredit our party. Besides, they've released you today, but if you're arrested again on the plea of disorder here—would that be advantageous for the party now? Better you go home and take rest today. Sakinadi will accompany you. We'd see what happens today and report to you tomorrow.

Mohiuddin too cannot ignore the probability of his rearrest. So he reluctantly leaves the place with Sakina. While going away they hear from afar the slogans of the Shams: Down down with the black hands of the Cosmovil Co operative misleaders—down down.......

Cut

Ruptured Hearthen Rampart

.... Change of spot >> Rail line. Sometimes cloudy sometime lighted denoting pale light of the sickle moon. Desolate. The time conscious evening train has gone away a while ago. Again it will be back in the pre-morning. So they 2, walk thru the rail line instead of the train. Feet slip from rails to stone chips. stone chips sound. any one observing them? why. no. none. So many words are stored for a long time. The words of the party fellows behind the bars, words relating to the organization, words of a change: U know, our great leader Rebelo has said.... "Let the past remain to whom it remained / let the present be anybody's / but the future'll be ours, only ours".

.... Sakina cannot follow all the words of Mohi. Yet she has high hope and confidence on Mohi. anybody following them? where. no. none. Beside the rail line is a culvert. They used to sit at that rendezvous of them sometimes in evening. now also they sit there. In course of words & words Mohiuddin forgets the bitter hurly burly of the meeting place a while ago. He desires to remain dipped in this deep taste of eternal & returnal freedom returning outside the stone-hard prison walls after a long time..... It seems to him / is it not earthen & hearthen sentimentality? / In wide daylight / is it not a lie out and out? / If it seems let it seem / for the time being it's a selectric charm....... It's a charm to Sakina too......./ After the daylong hard toil / returning to the black and blank room blank bed it seems / so much hard labor / daily rounding up / all these for whom and why? / Why the hell these are all meant for? / Tiptop room husband child world all these are / for every other woman but not for her?.... Sound of selfrolicking water beneath the culvert. On the other side across the line nearby the dune, the message of winds blowing and flowing over the tamarisk shrubs. Call of the sea from not very far. On that outmosphere the moon's fair together. In their face & eyes the news report the light & shade of the moon & cloud proud picturescope. moonlight shining & fading out. again & again. on the rolling steel of rail line.

)

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

This rail line gone how far away

Then where it ends therefrom begin other lines

Where those end therefrom begin other lines

Thus one can return rolling over the whole world

Yet this rail line doesn't know all these in the least

Only the worlden dead steel sheets, at other's will

as far as seen in forlorn dark, lying for nothing

On their heartrack running the faster heartrain

Saki: Know, I like this type of moon-pictures...Clouds fizzling out moon...moon dazzling to flash right again.

[After this interstop. A few minutes silence only, then]

== Why u look so sick and lean like a dried jute stalk? Didn't they give good food at jail? .... Did they beat too much? .....Have u eaten anything today?

Mohi: Yeah. with Sham at noon I've had tea and —

Saki: Stop stop. I understand u have had the royal dish. Now be kind enough to get up. Let me boil something for u. You'll eat and sleep early. You've had the whole day pressure. Tomorrow from early morning again that monotonous hard toil.

Mohi: Again u're taking me to yr place, fanning scandal?

Saki: As if anything left due to be stained!

Cut to

Awake So We Beget Words

Change of scene > Sakina's hut

.... Sakina cooking / and Mohiuddin looking, being wondered. Sakina's promistic face animated by the fire of the fireplace. Such a homely heartmosphere so far has been unavailable to the partisan, and at this moment heartisan Mohiuddin, since his mother gone to grave.

Mohi: Saki, how it'll be to get married?

Saki: 'll be marvelous! But whom should I marry? U? It'd be funtastic. Only it needs to tell the jailor to arrange for the 2 of us to live in the same cell / in the jail.

Laughter together

Ending laughter a hidden gloom imprints in their face.

Scene > Bed

.... Moonbeam glows on glossy leaves of the Chhatim tree. Moonlight breaks thru the rule of the window, and rests on the bed. Drowsy fragrance of chhatim flower.

Saki: U haven't slept yet? Still awake?

Mohi: Yeah, u too're awake.

Saki: I'll be asleep. Today u've talked a lot. No more. Sleep. Guess how deep the night now. In such a dense night, may be the moonlanders are also asleep. All of the whole world is asleep.

Mohi: All ain't asleep. With our sleep sleeps the world. With our rise rises the world. We rise thru words. We're awake, so we beget words.

W o r d s

The restless night couldn't sleep as we are not asleep

So many words stored in store to be restored in heart

As we awake the world awakes

As we sleep the world sleeps

In the drowsy fragrance of Chhatim flower

Arises how unspeakable sweet revengeful desire!

We are awake so we beget words

Words beget words

Words grow words

Night....grows......in......words

Pain......grows......in......words

Pain......eases........in......words

Pain eases in words / Pain grows in words

Night grows in words / Words grow words

Words beget words

We are awake so we beget words

((((((((((((()))))))))))

C o s m o s p h e r E 1 D e a r s p h e r E

1.5
Chapter 5: Dreamatic Rendezvous

Factasy

.... Then factstat of the city where Sadarghat is situated:

Area: 815.85 square km. (approx). Population: Ever increasing.

Weather: Tropical. Sunny most of the year. Heavy monsoon rain fall.

Temperature:

Summer........................................................Winter

36.7° C.......................highest.......................21.1° C

31.7° C.......................lowest........................10.5° C

Rainfall: 2540 mm (annually).Humidity: 80% (normal).

Dress:Light tropical in summer. Light woolen in winter.

Language: Bangla. Electricity: 220 volt ac. Exchange: Taka.

Sight seeing: Central Sahid Minar, Baitul Mokarrum, Dhakeswari temple, Lalbag fort, 1857 Memorial, National Museum, Graveyard of poet Nazrul, Parliament, Cruise on the Boori Ganga.

Excursion: Sonargaon, National Monument at Saavar.....

Well, in the impeded Sadarghat of that city drops down Hasnuhana flanked by her mother and brother in one ebbing afternoon. Her brother Bahar drove them here to see off. Hasnu shoulders a bag in addition to her etui. Bahar ports the heavy suitcase. Mother Zarina clutches a light jute bag. After ticketing they plank on a billowing small boat which ferries them to one of the motley steamers parked in deeper water on the river Booriganga. Bahar hurriedly climbs the upper deck and grapples a cabin for the 2 ladies – his mother and sister. He stacks the luggage there and seeks to return home, as he is to sit for an exam tomorrow. Before he departs, his mother strictures: Fare well in the exam. Have your meal in right time. Don't wake up till late night.

Bahar nods his mom and tells his sis Hasnu: Take care on the way. Phone me on reaching.

Then he hurries back to the ferry. Ashore he fizzles out in the hoi polloi in quicktime. His mother and sister gaze his fading out..............

Mid Shot

.... Zarina selfixes herself to upkeep the belongings of the luggage. They are to spend the night on water. She uncovers foods in the air so that it doesn't rot. Hasnu watches mother to neatly housekeep everything in the mean time. The cabin is clean. Ironed bed sheets on the 2 beds. On the pillow covers in mother's fine needlework it's embroidered:

Happy Family Is Essayed By Virtuous Woeman

.... After the work done Zarina heard she had misspelled the word woman for which she regretted that time. But later she absolved herself that nowadays so many women are full of so many mistakes to be called woeman – so she hadn't done any wrong in misspelling the word. Besides spelling of the word might change in future.

She hangs the water bottle in the hook on the wall. Beneath the bed she exports the suitcase and residue luggage. She didn't find time to read the newspaper for making the prolusions of this outing. Now she unfolds to read today's paper. But in the miserly light of the waning day in the cabin she finds it difficult to read. So she logs out of the cabin and saunters on the deck to find a vacant chair with table to read wearing her spec

\o-o/

.... From one side of the deck one in lungi & skullcap leaves after offering namaz. Beside him some young men are preoccupied, playing cards. Some more people sussing out. their game. attentively. environing them. At times the reshuffling splinters of their titillation service her ears. A pale lad whacks fruits: Eat fruit get strength. The fruitile lad asks Zarina: Buy mango? If you eat ripe it'd be sweet, eat it green now it'd taste sweet.

== I'd have taken if it were sour for prep of pickle

The lad spins naughtily to hardsell: Then I won't bluff. This mango will be sour. Best for pickles I'll reduce price for you, he chuckles.

== Pop off. Double speak in 1 mouth. Which of your words is correct? I won't take your mango.

The fruitile lad fails to sail and bounces.

.... Zarina gazes the sun downs its red lamp. The colorina of eternal and returnal picturescape in the firmament. Many more steamers, launches and boats floating on the Booriganga. They hail from and sail to different parts of the country as per their fixture. Their lights turning on indiscriminately. Zarina clamps down her attention in the newspaper. But her mind is fidgety. Tomorrow Bahar will have to sit for another paper in his exam in medicine. She fears whether he will take his meal properly at night or forget to put out light and doze off. Though she has a whole time cook in her home, she knows Bahar toes nobody's lines. bypasses. She would not have so much agony if his father had lived today. A few years back a chunk of their village property was wrested away by the musclemen of their opponent political party. In that tussle her hubby's heart disease soared and abridged his life abruptly. Even being a doc of med himself he didn't care to hand himself over to medicos, thereby skidding to land himself into trouble brushing aside everybody's request. His son has inherited his credo of obstinacy to canonize: Alright. I'll take care of them! let my exam be over first.

.... But Zarina doesn't want to rope in her high-handed son to the village. Because now there is the free reigndom of their bashers' party. A single flick of inadvertent remark on the part of her indignant son may hot up the latent flameboyant situation and add diesel to flame. So she herself is trying to buy peace and reach out to an out of the court settlement by sopping out a part of the encroached land to the encroachers. Otherwise even if she wins the case after years of long legal struggle, will she be able to get back possession of the land? Calculating this she wants to errand her country home with Hasnu for once before Bahar's exam is over so that a solution to the problem is drafted by way of wheedling and blandishment.

Of course, for this her hook is Khalifa. Khalifa is a son of the grabbers'. He is a contractor. Now the government is theirs. None other than their bashers net all the top work-contracts. Now Khalifa has zeroed in on Hasnu. He has hinted that if Hasnu marries him + all the litigations against them are withdrawn, he would consider to return 1/4th of the property under their distraint, hogging to himself the remaining major share as his dowry for marriage. In that case Zarina would be able to kill both tiger and lion at a single shot.

.... Her daughter too, ain't a fairy. Only has a little bit of glam, that's her eligibility. So if that is translated into reality she will be alleviated from her liability of daughter and a part of her prop may be recovered conking out the rancor. Of course her fireband daughter Hasnu becomes a volcano if she hears the term liability of daughter. Besides the girl has an obsession on Prottoy from her puerility. That will be effaced if she weds Khalifa. Because Prottoy might be goodish as a groom, but after all he is not of her faith! Though labeled as the spy of foreign country, Prottoys had escaped to India, being flushed out of their land and property and intimidated to be killed and raped by the Khalifa & co. (Covertly she is not unhappy for this, as her daughter is saved from the infidel inauspicious fire!)

.... But Prottoy has a cousin brother Sukrit who is a stubbordinate thriving legal eagle at Dhaka bar. He is moving the litigation for them at the court. He is a diehard guy not to give up and adjudged: Well, I don't agree to leave my ancestral country and enter into a foreign country as a refugee. If I live I'll live here. If I die I'll die here. Let me see first what the constitution provides for all legal angles and wrangles.

.... Whatever might be, as a woman what else better / can she synchronize for her daughter? But only after these arrangements are structured, she will let Bahar know. Surely he won't agree. He is arrogant no doubt but she believes, at last he won't balk his mother. Contrarily of Hasnu she is afraid / the bride who is to wed. Will Hasnu buy this arrangement? She is different and indifferent. As after all Hasnu is her daughter! Her moves quite unpredictable. She will think 1 / tell another /but will do only whatever she wants. She won't discuss / what she will do only as per her focus. What she's gotta do she's gotta do:

Solve all problems

.... Zarina's thought–thread severeth. As she beholdeth some people are gulping the words walling a middle aged bearded dignified man clad in long black robes with neck-chains made of colorina stones and small wooden balls. The twilight & riverain wind playing with the aura of his disheveled long hair and beard. Some of his musical prowess imprinted in his song lyrics as eared by Zarina:

Word is word's enemy

Creeper is tree's ,,

Monsoon is holyman's enemy

Net is fish's enemy

As the union between

son in law with father in law

deity with demon

Rahu with moon

Britrasur with Indra

thief with guard

light ,, dark

ginger with green plantain

bird with 7 pipe-gun

(Zarina mulls over he must be a wise man. A godman Pir might be.)

Flower-less tree

water-less pond

education-less country

court-less judge

boat-less navigator

bonheur-less life

Krishna-less Brindaban

room-less house

husband-less wife

(she feels, remembers hubby)

lyric-less bard

saw-less sawyer

is the nemesis of Quazi Baba this sayer.

.... Zarina's introvision Quazi Baba is a holy man. He must have knowledge of many pious tales. If she can appraise him her affliction regarding Hasnu, he may counsel some good advice, charm or even chip in some stone, amulet from his sac to debug Hasnu from her long drawn hangover on Prottoy – so that she returns to her sagacity and switches over to Khalifa. Though she had briefed her onus for Hasnu to a professional astrologer, who taking into account Hasnu's zodiac signs, occulted a charm-remedy, which she has not yet been able to usher Hasnu to practice till now: Hasnu is to throw down the river a red rose each day recalling Khalifa at the sun-rise × 21 days regularly. The charming spells, if performed, will captivate Hasnu toward Khalifa to be beguiled & entranced by him.

.... By this time Zarina notices a humming on another side among the groupies of young men playing cards. Following their coup d' oeil, she sources backward to discover the installation of her behappening daughter as the propitious newbie for their heartremor. She hears a hero among the groupies demanding to a zero in a spice-filmy herotic style: hey buddy, disburse me a cirgette.

== I heard u given up smokin'.

== Rightly heard. He has given up cigarette, but only given up smokin' in his own money, but hasn't promised to shake off anything in his father's or other's money!

Bronx cheer

Giddy Gen Y Races Ahead

.... Enter Hasnu flaunting in jeans & Tshirt rounding off her salwar kameez. Slight swing in her elephantine gait hogs the focal point. Ransacking band music in her earphone. Her chair facing mother's. She figures out her mother has little attention in reading newspaper. In fact mommy is masterminding a clandestine blueprint to recover a portion of their realty by thrusting her on the shoulder of the fundamentalist yob Khalifa rooking her as a decoy. As if she is her clay for play. Otherwise can she not sniff as to why she is being taken as an errand girl to their country home after a gap of several years? But mom thou track on flower and fruit / whilst I sneak down the root / That milk of thine / shalt be spoilt by kerosene. To wed the unlettered Khalifa and live as a practicing alewife cum cookie — and after some time that beau marries another woman as her co-wife following the trait of his family – his rajakar daddy having 4 wives and his elder bro having 2 wives so far – Hasnu will not be lured into the trail to the same snare dumping her career in the hell. But she won't refuse him now. Better let the issue hang on as long as possible, keep the game fish alive to let him play at this moment. This will quell her mother and they will be able to visit for some more times to their village, intimidated by jumping and camping of communalists. By that time she might get a propertunity to gear up her carrier anyhere or anythere in the country or abroad and / or the smog of militancy bubbles out or phases out in the next election. As she knows:

In everybody's life comes proper opportunity

But you're to recognize

and beautifully utilize that propertunity

not to let it slip away like a wet slippery soap

.... Only let her first fly to Prottoy, then she will unearth the news to mom. Then how Klalifa will rue—she's amused to imagine:

Sitting in a rotten melted food

the fly rues it's futile to be late

as the ants have syringed up

all cream out of it and left

.... Prottoy had assured to tee up some provision. While placing her head on his tall and stout sexotic body to hear the heart bit in the wide iron chest of his hearterritory, his himanic mentality seemed very tangible to her..... But now almost a year on the wane. He is still distraced.... Where is he? How is he? Her himagination turns taciturn. As she recalls his last advice:

Negotiate with thorns & worms to grow

If you dream to blossom and glow

She aborts the music. Keeps the earphone on the table.

Close up Zoom in

.... Hasnu's pensive face rubbed by cucumber and milk-layer, looks as if wax polished. hair styles and eyebrow care of beauty parlor. Consorted by the lengthy concert of river zephyr. The dillumination of picture of the diffused sundown still on her reticent face.

== You don't read newspapers. Look at this picture..... Zarina reads the news from 1 paper to let Hasnu hear:

"One maund ganja burnt in the band concert at Army Stadium.

Staff reporter: At least a maund of ganja was smoked out in the band concert yesterday at the Army Stadium. The whole day's band musical extravaganza was swayed by the primitive trance of group dancing and smoking of ganja puffed up by spectating youngsters. They enjoyed togather a limitless day of unfettered delectation. Young girls also rivaled young men in this revelry. Most of the audience had their soft drinks can and ganja-filled cigarettes. In addition to that many had Phencydil bottles and beer cans. Many soubrettes were seen puffing ganja cigarettes. The watchers were maddened by entrancement. Herds of young men and women, being exuberated in ecstasy while huddling and singing and dancing, were raining empty cans of drinks amidst the viewers haphazardly. Before that 10 to 12 persons had gone senseless due to hullabaloo dancing together for a long time. Bleeding from ear and nose oozed out of some of the intoxicants. Resulting beer can throwing some persons were wounded. It was a sturdy duty for the soldiers at the stadium to control the giddy youth singing and dancing to the rhythm of deafening frenzied band music. The concert started at 11 am and continued at a stretch till 6.15 pm yesterday and in spite of being Friday there was no break for the namaz in the noon or afternoon. Forgetting lunch they were nautching bumping and gulping to stomach band music. Some of them did open up their dresses, while some tore their apparels and flagged them out swirling in the air and vied for khemta nautch partnering with their girl friends. The price for a ganja cigarette shot up to 10 takas in that place."

.... While reading Zarina abruptly doubtlooks: Well, you were not home daytime yesterday. Khalifa awaited you at Baitul Mokarrum. You didn't turn up there. Where did you hang out then? Gone to that concert?

.... Funky to be caught she wipes her face with hand unwittingly – as if the stink of booze and ganja and her boylinks still cling up in her face, and rubbishes: Oh maa, what you're talking rot! That time I was at Rooksana's home and studying together for the ensuing exam! Then she picks up the paper for a coup d' oeil to check if her pix are there among the nautch girls. ....... No, not finding her figure in hip hopping performat hugging dancing with boozom guys in the photographics, she becomes secured and saved from embarrassment to her mother.

== But was it fare to skip Khalifa this way yesterday? I understand he ain't equal to you in education, but he has done religious edu. And now a days man's real qualification is money making. He will wrap you up in gold thruout the life. Guess how much money has he amassed in his construction business! She tries to hardsell Khalifa to her daughter.

== Only with construction biz, or with usurping up other's property + his beauty biz of exporting young girls? I scorn such grabber's ornaments, retorts Hasnu.

== Sheer lie. His foes drumpeted. Girl trafficking has no evidence!

== Anybuddy devils these evils flaunting evidence? Kenneled under the party umbrella they mobbed to rob our prop – this ain't democracy, this is mobocracy or even robocracy – for which dad died of heart attack – you wanna forget that? – ok I forget. But do you want me to become your hanger-on after marriage, even if Khalifa doesn't peddle me out of the country, but administers talaq on me or imports another co-wife following their family trad? So wait for / some time more. Let me be self-dependent at first. Then marriage may be there. True I haven't consented Khalifa, but haven't refused him either. Actually daddy / was a goodie. As he hadn't installed co-wife with you, so you won't understand.

Zarina shots back: Why should he bring in co-wife? I wasn't childless. Had I not given your birth? Then she selfuses in silence. To nail her down, her daughter would hit below the belt where it hearts most, she couldn't presume. In fact she canst not read the au fait modern maidens. They have negligible religious propensity. Mostly reluctant to wear burqa. She rues being entirely frustrated about their present and future mistance.

.... The duo is seated for a long time in mute wilderness in the earthmosphere on the Booriganga. Meanwhile Hasnu's attention has not escaped that their steamer has puffed out of Sadarghat at 20:15 hrs instead of 20:00 hrs. Doused some more time in silence, Zarina signs off to log in the cabin to arrange for the dinner.

.... Hasnu stations there like the slur light on the deck above the vast stretch of internatural water all around. From their own place in the lower deck au fond probably those playing cardaddict young bucks now choir to air their song. The upper deck is nearly vacant. Air in her ears excerpts of dialogue between a man + woman standing facing the river leaning on the railing

fffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff

**[*** j ***]** Fem: ....how could you sniff beforehand the cops might comb you down?

**[^**! **^]** Male: I was asleep at Sakina's place. At mid night somebody knocked—Mohida, Mohida ..... I opened to discover my comrade Sham who feedbacked me respiring rapidly – escape at once from here, our info is > hoodwinked by the ruling party, the cops are out to nab up you, Nitaida and some other local leaders of the opposition pretexting as probable troublers before the ensuing election – so that none of the candidates from the opposition parties can win here – and thus to ensure the ruling party to bag all the votes by rigging. You better quit this place temporarily and skulk in Kolkata Delhi or any place of your relatives under the sun – as the danger gets over – we'll green signal then you resurface here. So being tipped off in advance I slipped away – first came to Hasnabad – where claimbuoyant touts forked me out Rs. 500/= to resource me to cross the Ichhamoti river at night to sneak into your country – then straight to Dhaka to your home – Now I plan to camp some days in yours and some other relative's home at Borishal – would like to visit poet Jibanananda's house one day – oddventuring here & there for several days when I'll get the green signal of all quiet informat in my front, then I'll be back to my pavilion at Biswapur.

**[*** j ***]** Fem: rightly done. Now zip down for dinner / Here you'll get fish and rice at steamer.

**[^**! **^]** Male: is it? Hilsa of the Padma available here? On the way I saw shoals raised on several strips on the Padma.

.... As they chatter and turn back Hasnu is amazed to discover Madam Nilofer who used to teach them physics at their college.

Hasnu: Madam! Where're you heading?

Nilofer: Ah, Hasnu. There're a few days xtra forced leave for the strike. Availing of this propertunity I've gotta go to Borishal with brother Mohiuddin bhai.

Mohiuddin: You're assorting me or I'm hanging out with you? I know nothing of here.

Nilofer: That's right. (to Hasnu) Mohibhai hails from India.

Hasnu: Hi, you're from India! Then you're our guest. How do you like this country?

Mohi: Nature hasn't made any country bad – this country too. It's the inhabitants who turn any country good or bad – but there's no parallel as regards the hospitality of the inhabitants of this country.

Exit Nilofer and Mohi

Wows Amour of Fille Bows Vile

.... This time the mute all-in-one rovile set beeps up to be talkative:

== Hello, who?

== Hi Hana, it's me.

.... That hypnotiq male voice! Hasnu can't trust her ears! While all others call her Hasnu, sprucing her full first name Hasnuhana, only claimbuoyant Prottoy brands her Hana, to proclaim his sole right on Hasnuhana. She is habituated to hear all these skirt-chasing rumblings of Prottoy from her childhood. And she likes it. Besides a coup d' oeil on the micro screen of her widget pops up the pics of Prottoy's grinning techie geek himage. So how can she distrust? The hair of her body thrills in shrill, while her heartbeats ramp with the rapids of the Meghna! As always everywhere—

To wo/men what can be dearer

than having worthy, hearthy

peaceful and blissful partner?

.... She wants to avoid the mechanoise of the puffing machines to hear his voice distinctly. So she jibs to trail to the tail end of the vessel and regulating her bubbling emotions as far as practicable, responds

== Hi, Prottoy!

== U retrieve me at last then!

== Wow, what a gag! I won't talk to u. Why ur face looking a bit huffish? From where're u calling? Kolkata?

== No New York. But u look like fire now. Prottoy lodges a bill of flirting in advance. Thinking it might help him later.

== Oh, really? At last u preconcile me leaving aside the white girls there!

== I swear by mother. U look seductive today! What u've sported in the neck? A fiercely cute locket!

Flaunting up the locket

````)'0'(````

== This is a Feng shui locket – Chinese goddess Quan In's – I wanna see if wearing this locket can improve my fate! No I won't talk to u. After such a long break u're recalling me! She showcauses him.

== Believe me. I had snail mailed 2 letters to u from Kolkata. By ur silence I was sure u hadn't received. At last after thorough searching as soon as I've found ur mailbox and this number, I'm calling u.

== How did u get my roving number? I haven't divulged it to manybody. She intracepts.

== Hum, then why should I disclose that out to u? Patience my Laila! First shell me out a kiss then I will tell.

Hasnu knows this is a patient dialogue of Prottoy, so she grins: Over the phone? Ok. Done. Now tell me. (She drifts a flying smooch).

== Listen. First to Kolkata – from where my ordeal ended in Canada.

== Canada? But u just have told u're calling from New York? Kidding?

== Oh, listen at first. I've come to New York for a few days from Toronto where I live now. First searching fiercely on the web I traced a few old chums of our school and college scattered all over America. Then from 1 of them I got – guess whoz address?

== Whose?

== Ur classic & glassic crony of the same class & glass– now at New Jersey –

== Imon? Yes I gave her my number.

== Yes ma'm. Today I've arrived in New York on my official duty. I tracked down Imon at her college to grab your info, nonsnail address and roving number. heard the sad news— sudden demise of ur dad. u're on training after finishing ur college. also heard the good news for which my congrats to u (ruggedness in his face + voice) – for ur tie with Khalifa – .

== Oh, for that u're envious? listen Mr, damn the bullshit. in fact Khalifa hankers it. mother too is cooking it. for that reason we're now cruising to our country home after a long time. but u know very well I can't tie my life with the foe of my father, a hardcore fundamentalist, immersing down my own career. Now your father or my father weren't freedom fighters. During the war of independence those who opposed liberation touted for the occupying forces, raped countless women, butchered innumerable people of the country – those slayers flawers & frighters today flower as freedom fighters by flexing their muscles and money power. hanky turned to jackal. Without being agitated don't hesitate to cogitate in cool brain— if I decline their proposal outright now instead of hanging it on until u can tuck me to u out there— then won't it foil the plan itself to join u up there? What else could I have done? So long I couldn't get any trace of u. besides always yo're so rigid—

== Really? But—

I'm not rigid if your way betters than mine

I won't hesitate to follow that way then

Only if u could only know how fierce problem sorrow pain and agony I had to encounter in the meanwhile – .

== I can feel well. But what will be arranged for me?

== Hum, why should I tell u? Guess what – ? What's ur prelusion? Okay, first shell / me out a kiss / then I'll tell.

== This won't be good, she fakes grudge, shameless, tell me!

== Listen. For u I've talked and chalked with the immigration agency – they've nodded to my preffort / for ur comfort. In the meantime u complete ur ongoing Pharmacist courses. Soon I will send to ur mailbox a list which documents and how much money will be required and what u're to do for ur passage to Canada – which u will send me at the soonest – of course if u wannabe in Canada with me then only – otherwise not. But in that case it won't be possible for me to return to the country now and trash my career go down the drain, to be roped into the communal trauma of insecurity & exodus triggered by the toxicated politricks married to religion. Of course if u wanna stay there, hang on. But if u like to be together with me, then only, as I've already told u and just reiterating, in that case (that ruggedness again fogs his face + voice) I'm not religious minded, so I won't be a convert to ur faith.

== Well, why do u sting me again telling me this? Indig yourself to premember, for supporting the other party and to fight for the secular ideas, we have not only squandered our village property, but also lost my father prematurely. Hasnu's offended voice bridles up.

== Hana, I'm sorry. I was wrong. In fact the plight of pitiful flight of the Bangali refugees, robbed of their property, country and modesty on the fiercely trifle pretext of religion, drives me mad from time to time! I'm really sorry. Please excuse me. (preckoning still Hana isn't appeased) Ok, the birth of which will make u happier – boy or girl? Whichever u wish will be born to u, my dearie. He woos and coos. (This time Hana beams): U savage! No more I wanna hear this type of fierce words. (Jest washes out their mortification). In fact u're atheist. U don't believe in anything.

== No madam. I'm neither theist nor atheist nor agnostic. I think god, if any, is dormant. you may say I'm godormant.

== I've heard secular / but this is peculiar / what godormant is in particular? Is it edible? Or rubbable?

== That means u can't prove if there is god or if s/he is getable. I've no problem on that issue as a commoner. If there is god or if s/he is cognizable – it's good, and if s/he is not or if s/he is not knowable – then also everything is going on ok. Still commoners have no skirmish — either with some persons who presume that if we can foreknow god everything will roll around smoother — or with some rationalists who argue there's nothing as god. Yet some vicious extremistique powermongers, having their own vested interests of Wresting 4 WoW's >> Wealth Wine Woman and War —feign to have had the self-contract to protect and promote their faith and god—steamroll over the commoners, logicians and atheists—forcing them to obey their blunt diktats fatwas and formans in the name of god and religion—brandishing their blood smeared weapons— And those innumerable peoples have to onlook or overlook impassively sitting on the fence. Neither can they agree to their autodiktats virtually or heartually—nor can they resist their exertion and exertia—being cowed bowed & mowed down—in unorganized inertia.

== I can't eat up your vitriolic lingo. But u know fairly well that I don't toss / for a religion / if I ain't at a loss / if I ain't into a throe / onto the wonted god / I won't go

Prottoy sizzles: Ah, this is godormancy!

Temporary malconnection

.... Then Prottoy: Everything will be arranged, there won't be any problem, but if yr mother can sniff somehow all will be deranged to fizzle and puzzle.

== Actually whose careers concern this? – mom's or ours? I won't babble out to mom now. Becuz if she knows now it will bubble over. So let me reach out to u first. Afterwords will be afterwards – (Shortly sensing afar the glimpses of her mother in black burqa, coming about to find her she tunes down to sotto voce): Mom's come to call me for dinner. Pass me out yr contact address and number. quick.

== Everything already fed into yr mailbox sweetie, which might be kindly beholden by yr highness and to get in touch with this wrecked fellah! Oh yes, apply first for yr passport to haven. In the mean time complete your Pharmacist courses. More when we chat. I'll leave now.

== Leaving? e Mr., don't leave me in the lurch. Cheers! Bye!

== (Grinning) Nope, how can I leave u my chocolate-heartingale? / U bust in my hearterrain / at times often / Cheers! Bye then!

== Whose call? Mother's query.

== Imon. From Amerika.

== Will Shahjadi be kind enough to have her dinner now?

Hasnu proctors a new food item on her plate: What have u doctored this?

== Soya Khichuri. Very nutritious.

==.Oh mom, u donno I don't like taste of soya at all?

==.Ok, just taste a bit. If u don't like, throw it in the river.

==.(Tasting a bit to please mother) No, not bad to savor. How did u prep?

Zarina with heavy enthu narrates the cooktrick of the recipe as she learned from the Random Kook Room in Wanderer's Wordrobes. She footnotes: At noon after the preparation I kept it in the thermos pot. Now after the long hours it has lost warmth.

Depicture

.... 10:30 at night. After the food session Hasnu opts out of the cabin to sizzle a while. Saunters on the deserted deck. Assuaging cool gentling riverain zephyr. Thin fog. Meanwhile the fulgent focus admonish all the vessels near and afar not to clash with this vessel. This time no costal sign is panoptic anywhere or manyhere in the blindense stark dark due to nonattending moon. Only compass hither and thither afar the frail dots of lights from wandering boatizens in this watersphere – when one can only have the imaginary perception of the far sprung horizon where land water and welkin meeting with one another. Rarely found rough & red eyed river cops' rapid patrol boats. Somehere sidened is the abandonware—saddened phantomic boat / docked in mute fomentum / rocked by waves / beaked by birds / pecked by fishes.

Bednight Restcription

# 1 Action> Lone maidens shouldst not amble & ramble outside the cabin at this dead night as they might be the soft targets to bust on. Thereforth to enter inside. Mom, nicknamed by Hasnu as Mater, diktates.

{Silent Reaction of Hasnu>> Mater's proscription ain't wrong altogether. But mother doesn't know that I've learned a few karatricks from my college chums. If anybody assails, I'll confront no problem to shunt out 2/4 persons in the water first. In fact mom hasn't seen the old movies of Bruce Lee. If she sees she'd simply faint. Enter the cabin.}

# 2 Action> To be fair-faced ye wash thy face in this mixed water.

(Mater dishes her out a cuppa water mixing the juice of a crushed lemon as a beautip.)

{Silent Reaction>> Oh moma, to use the beautip of quaky aqua to please beau is troublesome. Rubbing cream or solution is better, trendy & handy.}

# 3 Action> Before lying down change thy jeans fins. Wear nightie.

{Silent Reaction>> This sermon of mum she votes for. She sports nightie as it has certain plus points: a) No hassle of wearing tight undergarment. b) For that easier to use in bathroom. c) Authorized way to present her self in a more magnetic mode to invite masculine eyes. d) Naughty nightie is advantageous to be loose in night tie with male and / or female partners during cohabitation as well as during monthly period.}

(Hasnu relaxes in nightie. Zarina sees crack in her heels.)

# 4 Action> I have been asking thou to rub thy heels and body with the skin of lemon before the bath to shine the heels & skin of thine glossier. who heedeth whose words?

{Silent Reaction>> Hasnu ears with one ear and fires the garbage of herbage with the other to veto}.

# 5 Action> Take enough water.

{Silent Reaction>> She has heard it healthy. But water is elixir to her only when thirsty. Otherwise tasteless. Oh my dear mom, if you try soft or hard drinks – especially gin – you won't forget you'd again craze to booze. Oh mmom, I pity you what you done in this life neither have you fizzed a good guzzle nor funatically tasted any guy other than dad! then how have you enjoyed your life? How'd you answer in the above? To evade mom's gaze, she turns back to hide her giggle. Then absorbs a sip of water to please mother showing her. Her dream guy Prottoy's himage has flowered her dreamboyance.}

# 6 Action> Get the door and window shut and locked. Turn the light off.

{Silent Reaction>> Mater 100% right. She dittoes.}

# 7 Action> Tomorrow dawn / we're to hop on / to another boat for Gour Nodi. Sleep fast.

{Silent Reaction>> But Hasnu piddles away sleepless hours...She hasn't visited her country home for a long time... first due to her engagement with studies in Dhaka .... then hooked by the hobble over the country prop... At the entry to the netherworld of sleep she begins to slip to dip into the trap set with heap of fallen leaves?......

(((((((((((()))))))))))

C o s m o s p h e r E 1 D e a r s p h e r E

1.6

Chapter 6: Aurora on the River Gour

Visit to the Nether World

[Disclaimer >>> Minors in age or mind, and adult moral policers are cautioned not to go through some of the portions of the chapter— that might appear inappropriate to them—which if not heeded—the author will not be responsible.]

.... While being drawn downwards Hasnu ekes out the hidden snare concealed into pile of dried leaves ...... trailing to the hell of the chthonic world to be rapidly trenched into a multi times enlarged edition of a circus-like globe shaped iron cage ....... The gates [X||X] of the upper side of the globe gets sharply closed as soon as her fall into it by the huge-figured castrated guards as per dictum of the archief of the ruffians Khalifa, dressed as a sheikh...

Outside the globe is the well-furnished hollow cave. There are the racketeer-teammates of Khalifa dressed as raja, badshah, nabob, emir, omrah, general, minister, merchant guzzling smacking and celebrating aloud the crash landing of their numero uno sexcuisite prize catch Hasnuhana into their sexclusive network, with tawdry cheers— toasting their hands with glassified booze

Y

brandishing their blunt swords. thongs. & guns firing gung ho blank in the air. in utter ravishment. horses tied to the date palm trees outside the cave also neigh. In their mirth join skimpy transparent muslin clad ornamented saqis, the giggling bimbos, gang up to comfort and consort the goons in their boozing smacking smoking marijuana and bodying. Some saqis are serving food, fruit, beverage and roasted meat from the bonfire in the cave. while some others are fiddling belting music lyrics. jigging and bumping in lassitude. Some saqis leer to muse and amuse as to why should there be any difference in case of Hasnu? As their modesty has been manufractured by so many guys, so why should she be discounted to remain virgin? Manybody drumpet such virginity in the beginning. But no fruitful utility. No fruitility. Rather after savoring water of so many ghats they're now funnadicts easing and cozying in fun and fantasy.

.... Now protesting Hasnu shrills: Why you tree me?/ Free me, lemme go.

.... To this everybody thrills & freaks exploding into fit of salvo repeatedly. Mocked and mobbed Hasnu reads from the mobologue that she cannot be bailed out of boundage and inhibition from her bete noire Khalifa in this way. After their jinks ebb a bit, with amour propre Khalifa swaggers: Nobuddy nobloodie has inhibited you here by force. You're inclined to tuck in here being snared. You come here willingly but go from here on our will. And shouting won't be fruitile. Who'd come to rescue here in this oasis? Call yr funatic paramour Prottoy, if he comes to salvage you? —

Pause to guzzle 1

— In fact you have been tormenting me for a long time by hoaxing and foxing, now face the music for life. Of course if you can enamor us by screwing then fate will smile on you like these saqis or those colleens in the harem of the other globe.

Pause to smack 2

.... Hasnu watches out at a coup d'oeil at least 20/25 stark naked filles herded in the cage of the huge other globe. who bear the stamp of thonglash injury and sextensive carnal sextortion. among whom she can identify Tahira Bibi and Farida of her village, who she heard were mistraced from their homes being cozened by Khalifa's delusive lure of employment and / or marriage. The womenergy here are also gauging Hasnu like a naive pigeon among cats to be ravened by them. She savvies these women are marketed in this sexpo to be savored by these prospective and grosspective customers before being auctioned.

== But if you try to elude or delude me then you guess what'd be your destiny – Khalifa roughs and toughs.

.... Hasnu rapidly figures out what would be the knock on effect if she tries to dodge and budge or not dittoes their line. The consequence might be as the thought-processor signals in the radar of her psycho-screen:

Either Scene !

.... All these guys in revelry are subjecting her to random rape. After rape, to be ensured that she doesn't create any danger to the sexploiters --- she is being killed and after her macabre death her dead body and face is disfigured and dumped in the dune --- as the menu for birds and beasts --- and the limbs of her eaten dreadbody gradually skeletoned under the sweltering sand distraced by anybody ever to be faded into limbo. No she doesn't want this ending. Omit. XXXX

Or Scene !!

.... Then if she doesn't resist, her fortune to shine? To be sold many times to be a saqi or like those nudie bimbos haremed in the other globe, to be sexported to cater the dance bars and bagnios in the middle east or India, or to be repackaged out to some oldie as a sex doll? No she doesn't prefer this consequence too? Delete. XXXXX

Or Scene !!!

.... Then if she feigns to be willing by flirtation in order to lessen her misery as least as possible and escape unhurt, cashing in any propertunity of their leakage and stupefy them? Because life is for enjoying, not for languishing. So why don't I relish them to fish fun, she mulls? But she is to pay something for that. She can't turn the tide as —

However turbulent might be

can a river rectify an ocean?

.... So what can be done? No pain no gain. Currently there's no other better tunnel than to fake by buttering for the sake of her acquittal out of this hell. So. Have to try having no other prospective alternative option, and at this situation being the best of the worst.....

If you strive

why not stride for the best?

Even in worst situation why not

strive at least best of the worst?

.... Cogitating this she U-turns dramatically to fabricate bon homie dialogue simpering: Ah, why are you huffy my dear Khalifa sahib? How Prottoy could be my paramour my darling, so long you're here? You're my only fateman, honey. Rather I'd be happy to enjoy the herotic rich company of all of you here— the maharajas badshahs sheikhs emirs and all the nobles. I'd satisfy you all but tell me Khalifa sahib, how it'd be possible openly before the naked eyes of all, being confined in this iron cage?

Khalifa: That's quite right. Guards, open the gates. Demonic gatemen unlock and unbar. Hasnu ejects out of the globe to hug Khalifa:

== I can't tolerate these castrated gatemen, oh my dearest fateman! They're incapable and impotent. Lock them up in the globe unarming them. Otherwise they might erupt into violence being envious during our screwing.

== Quite correct. The security guards succumb to the autodiktat of Khalifa to be detained in the globe.

== Any more order, Hasnu Begum? Khalifa in compliance mode & mood, now let's go in the F--ktory to sextract happiness together.

Hasnu prompts: Tell me honey, how it's possible for a gal to copulate with so many guys at a time? Come one after another, I shall fulfill thirst and lust of all of you. Who'd come first?

Khalifa: My stake of claim is first beyond doubt. I'm the skimmer / the first bidder / to garner / to partner / to be your first bedder.

.... This dialogue sparks brawl and scuffle among the prospective underworld henchmen agog with sexpectation to tom tom their bids to seduce Hasnu first.

1 bids:he payed for this gal

,, ,, : he booked this chick

,, ,, : he re ensnared chicks

,, ,, : he smuggled drugs to finance

,, ,, : he supplied arms and ammo

,, ,, : he sourced bombs & bullets

,, ,, : he sourced deadly explosives

,, ,, : he hawalaed money for this pussy

,, ,, : he killed people to terrorize

,, ,, : he cliqued with Crime Minister

.... So his claim is numero uno. The ruckus among the competitors to have and grab the first seduction right over Hasnuhana turns sour to brew into a skirmish in the sex congress. Several people are wrested out and gunned down in the gung ho fiasco. The rest of them who survive unhurt after the feud, opt out to Hasnuhana: Better you yourself pick and choose from amongst us some guys as your bedmates in several shifts.

.... Hasnu sexplains candidly to steal the deal: Though some guys are muscled out of the fray, still you so many guys're here – but I can't gratify all of you at a time becuz as a woman I have only 3 manholes by which I can welcome only 3 womaniacs at a time in each trip. Yet it'd take a whole day for me to gratify all the guys here. Therefore, leave your arms – so that you do not fight with one another, and leave your dresses – so that you do not waste time and delay others and wait for me peacefully entering into the globe. I shall be calling 3 guys to favor & savor each time in several trips.

.... Thus cajoling huddling cuddling and lubricating she locks the hoard of harmer guys caging in the globe totally unarming + stripping them to hang on in the queue for their turn in the trip to sextravaganza— arguing that if remain armed in the outside they might fight among themselves to die before they tie and lie with her. In fact guys are most vulnerable in love and sex, she preckons. She selects 3 cute sleek lute & selectric men after discounting lots of them, befitting for the dare bare action.

.... So when they won't spare her why should she let the menergy leave unfunatically unused, fasting her own womanergy? She also squeezes the embedded service of the boyz toyz to pump into her sexcavation to extract 1000% gratification of her sexotica and bedventure.

.... Then she dresses up. Petting her bedders abed in the room she latches from outside the room to abruptly become their la femme fatale. She romps to the other globe of the inhibited womenergy and unlocks the globe to set the women free. With her 2 fingers she flashes the freed girls the symbol

V

Visualizing the Vivacious Victory of Vibrant V shaped Vagina & Vulvadom over the dazed maledom. She hands over the key of the globe, bigly ignoring or bignoring the detained outwitted uxorious men, to the jubilant women and harbingers: From now you're free / this is your key.

.... For the time being you sport the left out apparels of these bare gaolbirds of racketeers. From this moment you are the owners of their riches jewelry money wine whips swords guns arms and ammo camps elephants horses camels animals— all wealth togather in this cave and oasis. Above all I handover the baton to you with full carte blanche, this cageful harem of unrobed criminal manimal men, the slaves for your use and funtertainment. As at gunpoint, you the trapped Vaginadom—were misutilized to act as their sextinguishers— in the same way you enjoy these bonded men, in boundage. employ them in your works and deploy these menerzy as the boy toy for your sexultation as your sextinguishers. My prequest to you > Hold the key / to remain free.

Whenever you transfer the key to them they will again enslave you and you will lose all your future. However I'm taking my share of the money and jewelry as my compensation. You distribute strictly equally the remaining entire wealth amongst all of you to compensate yourselves. Don't be foxed again by such baddies in the lure of happiness marriage or heaven— and don't be afraid if they scare you swear by your faith caste or creed & hell— there can't be anymore worst hell than this F--kland.... Finally, we must ask and assure ourselves first >>

Often hurt by others words & altitude

are we unhurt by our own works & attitude?

.... by which we're trapped by the harmers who endanger us?

.... Full-stopping her vitriolic womenclature, wreckless Hasnuhana transformeth into a peri and adrifteth aloft high in joy of uninhibition spreading her wings to fly in the sky.

Jump cut

.... to her waking up by vigorous call at dawn. Zarina's fake censure: What were you muffling up in your sleep naming Khalifa? Have you dreamt him up? Mom's delight preckoning the sudden volte-face of her daughter toward Khalifa. Hasnu does not contradict mom's fancies now as she mulls—

If you are a short or a long time player?

If short timer—grab the instant gains promptly

If long timer— forget pains for the last laugh

even losing momentary gains mostly

.... Hasnu's quick entry to the toilet without scripting a single word to shroud her smile. As if to wash away the imprints of yester night's euphoria and fling and to reessay herself. How mommy can trail into that deep hollow of her quelled ebony mirth? That can't be hinted out to anybody. To Prottoy? No not even him. Why? She inquires herself. Because might that obsession and oddsession of dreama be indecent to manybody? Some in the habitatmosphere might also brand it savage and imprecated. Then what about Arabian Nights? Is that too cussed?

Acting savage is no savage

only telling it is s-o savage!

.... She quells her spicery within herself. Smiles wryly. Bidyapati was right to write: Veiled tryst larketh million times funtasy.

Aurora On The River Gour

.... Move fast. We've reached. 're to board on the other boat, mother's hurry-scurry. Hasnu's recomposition of apparels in haste. coiffure. only slight hair conditioning. Then desertion of the vessel with her bag & package & mom to descend onto the smaller boat, being focused in the dark by glaring searchlight. Smogged by the emission of thick vicious smoke. Deafened by the dogged thudding sound of the boat on the move. Thereforth the boat's sudden haltage due to exhaustion of fuel in the blank tank. The sailor's infliction of blame game on the lubber assistant spewing raunchy vocabulary of chokabulary. and towing away of the loaded passenger boat on the stream in search of fuel, pushed by pole + pulled by rope......

In the diffused light of the wee hours cooled by the river breeze while earing the rower's sledging vulgar lexicon, Hasnu bundles herself near her mother's lap like the impeccant bud of her childhood. Today an alien in her own homeland, her introspecting eyes outlined by the bitter stibium... ruminating over the blank yore, and the promistic ambivalence of the future......

Aurora on the river Gour

She loves not to rise

dwindling the sleep wrapped in cozy sheet of dawn

But planeters hanker to rouse others

Steward & sailor's mauling clamor:

wake up > move ahead > wander

Aurora on the river Gour

A patch of fuzzy ebony blancoed by Bengal light

She is unready like a stranger

to be framed by the glaring flash

Dispersed dotlights spot the imbued night river

Red eyed guards frail to trail vigil

Stardom blinked like the scattered perched rice

Waterway at the Meghnanite cruises no other fete

Somewhen her abode

enclosed land and a chunk of sky

1 day troublers' gang usurped in to bang:

chuck out > evacuate > turf out the sky

Still horrific devout bulls rush out of grave to gore

Aurora on the river Gour

Hardly hark back the shimmering times

Burqa veiled night miraged by muslin mist melts

Dogged puffy fumes boatman's slang sledging

piety chemicals decompose the air

While truth = trifled keepsakes + unsin infant sun

nagging wounds fields streams ponds birds & flocks

school shop dryport woeful shoal in vein vapor

Aurora on the river Gour

.... Abruptly Hasnu insenses something crawling to prick in between the cleavage on the plateau of her Mount Breast beneath the Feng shui studded locket inside her uplift. She fidgets. Covertly groans: Oh maa! Maa!! Unperturbed Zarina intracepts her. Peeping there she finds out a big bug in between her bosoms' hide out. Hearing bug, to shrug off Hasnu shoots up. The boat jiggles a bit.

[Sniffing intertainment, a few wag boys' gag in sotto voce: What a lulu! The lucky worm!

== It ain't be fruitile to be jealous of the worm. Our luck is bad! Jokes another.]

Zarina censures Hasnu: If you jump like this in the boat it'd capsize. You're scared of a trifle worm! Shielding Hasnu feasibly from the amusing looks of passengers, she seizes out the insect clutching its wings from its cozy den in the breastland, to fling it into the water. But the insect prefers not to fall into the water, deters to hang on a hyacinth floating on the water.

== What insect mom?

== That too you donno? You're fully converted into a townie lass! It's a variety of Brown Tree Hopper.

Long Live Wormocracy

.... It has been noted in the Wanderer's Wordrobes that this Brown Tree Hopper is a variety of a winged hopper. When paddy plants time to bloom, the number of insects booms up to suck up the juice of the stems and leaves to dry and die. Besides they carry the harmer viruses called Ghasi bete and Mochrano bete.

Then Way Out ?

1. Well-measured quantity of insecticides should be sprayed to wet the plant top to bottom under the supervision of experienced agrarian assistant.

2. To resist pollution of habitatmosphere, it should be expedient to increase the number of beneficial intraceptive enemy-worms of these worms in the field.

3. To unleash ducks.

4. To use hand net and light-trap.

[N.B. Those who'll read the above notes from the Wanderer's Wordrobes after many years / eras / centuries should be cognizant of a kind of edible corn extinct now / called rice and how / the insects were used to be weeded out that time].

Ever amphisphere. Waging war of life and death by worms and insects. The earth is not only for the hoi polloi. The earth is also for worms. They damn with man-made global warming.

Hail Global Worming!

.... The worms demand to introduce wormocracy instead of mobocracy. Wo/man can sow crops. But cornful field belongs for worms too, not only for scornful wo/men. Worms and insects have the right to exist. They have to be fed on crops. To predictate intrafighting amongst the worms won't do. Worms of the earth unite. Observe strike to preserve the right of the worm to swarm the worlden cornfields. Domestic ducks are also to blame. What right have they to intravene and eat the insects? What a poor level of IQ the ducks have! They lay eggs and the top cops eat! If humans do not stop disinsection by spraying pesticides and stop their pollutricks of pollution polity, thenceforth the worms and bugs will appetize all pesticides in unison and vigorously storm into the bastions of all the agrihorticultural fields and swallow all the crops in the earthmosphere. Humans shall die unfed. We shall overcome the humans someday!

That Brown Tree Hopper by now rejuvenates to fly high in joy in the episphere leaving the floating hyacinth. Ducks and birds might haunt it. Hasnu's onvision follows it until it glides out of sight to its own habitatmosphere. The earthmosphere hangs on to rotate. The macrosphere and microsphere hang on to revolve. Streams hang on to flow. Wo/men hang on to work sin and unsin. Pollutions hang on to hang on. The ozone layer's holes hang on. Winds hang on to blow. Embryos hang on in wombs. Termites hang on to ransack. Worms and insects hang on to retaliate human's pollutricks.

_Q U I Z_ >> _Is there any river named Gour Nodi?_

(((((((((((()))))))))))

C o s m o s p h e r E 1 D e a r s p h e r E

1.7
Chapter 7: Specter of Terroria

Elation of Misled Wind

'.~~ ``` `~~``.~~,..,,.~~~ .',; ~` '.~~~```.

.... Here crushing out the unrelenting s~e~a~w~a~v~e~s one after another. Dating with misled elation of the fidgety wind. But in the dark of immature night, watery assails of the Arabian Sea is detraceable. This location is in north Goa away the Kalanghut shore. The attached topiary of the deluxe resort limits at the beach. A few guzzlers. in the chairs splintered here and there. in the openair garden. Colory dots of lights atoned to the shrubs and groves. Uncorrupted hazeless sky. Pitched somber night descended shortly. Stardots blinking in the welkin as usual.

A camera now pans from wide angle to traverse into the span of a table to note:

Rhythms Scramble

(=_=)

A relaxing guy. Snacks tabled. Almost empty bottle. Vino Feny wine in the peg.

wwwww

wwww

www

i

n

e

wine

.... But the usual quietness of young airy night acclimatized to him in the last few days, suddenly scrambles with the frenzied waiter's alert: Sahib, please go sit inside the bar. Security warrants vacating this garden at once, terrorians barged in here.

.... When the waiters busy removing all the bottles dishes and glasses from all the tables, he wises up while zipping toward the bar, a bearded well dressed youngster breaking in running amok. Commandos chase cat and mouse to nab him. Escaping he positions behind a tree. When affronted swanking advantech ultra killer machines shrouded, the killer sprays his killture. A commando being shot on the spot, his comrades reply by swarming bullets to inactivate the youth forever. Turning the defunct face by the barrel of his gun, the commanding officer browses to lament: Ah, a lad yet! Xtremistique religion-hunters have munched these heads programmed to ladventure. When in this early youth they are to read or work and enjoy funatic life, these lunatics go gunatic sporting guns. Now gladventure to heaven, the peri and angel / celestial playgirl in the girland / awaiting thru the night in bed to garland you in herland!

.... Then his covert order can not be eared. only what is implied is to keep the bearded dead lad's dreaded ultramates unaware, let the party of dine and dance to continue uninterrupted in the inside restobar. Because now if the party animals are informed they will scuffle for quick passage to flee to outmosphere, only either to be stampeded or to be hostaged in the fiasco and the miscreators will dodge out. So the resort seized, the dreadbody quietly removed to limbo. The wounded jawan sent to hospital.

.... Royal blue and saffron colored lights in the glowing signboard of the adjacent restobar Libido are running from pillar to post within the tabs. That 1 reveler guy enters inside as if not seeing anything yet staying insulated to outside changes. Posts himself in the only vacant table. The waiter dishes out his fulfilled glassics and bottle. Then there is the playground of chiaroscuro light and shade. The sound of encounter in the outmosphere could not ram down here beating the brassy filmic song and music. The other tables are also filled up either with pairs or labeled as Reserved for Diner. The only single chair vacant is on the opposite side of his table. Eyeing that 1 overawed wench comes and asks: May I sit here?

== When it's vacant and more so when a pretty belle (here he puffs up a little to flirt her) likes to sit then please be seated.

(*j*)

== Thanks. I'm Dilruba Ali. You—-?

== My name? Jose. Jose Santos. But no use of knowing name.

== Why saying so?

== I mean a little later we 2 will go on our own ways. U on yours I on mine. There ends the matter—

The order taking snappy girl appears and receives orders of food and beverage from Dilruba. Dilruba lits up a cigarette and extends the packet toward Jose and offers— cigarette?

== No thanks. I don't like it.

== Then in this smoke you'd stuffocate, I'd drop it.

== No no don't waste. U puff on. feel free. Otherwise you'd be uneasy.

== You are a forecaster I see.

== Not exactly, but I can see u are poising— wavering to and fro — glancing back and forth— as if u are in some awful ill at ease.

== No no. Why should I be uneasy? What's there of uneasiness? (Poises to say under more discomfort).

== Good if you ain't.

(Her glassic toasting rummer touches Jose's glass) : Cheers. No, actually I'm thinking if I s'd tell u—

== If it can't be told why tell me? And hearing? That's none of my business.

Look @ Break of Rime to Brook

Now for the dance session the music changes to jazzy. The lights sync focus. The lead guitarist is an expert player. The pairs begin to dance quite cozily. While Dilruba and Jose glued to chairs.

== Come on, let's dance, Dilruba extends her hand.

== No thanks. I can't dance / I falter and mistance / So I like to keep distance / I flop / You go and hip hop.

== You partiquette-less guy! U offend ladies by refusing them?

== That means u're saying the special right to offend by womenclature should be reserved 100% for women only— not for men. OK, bring a bill to that effect. It'll be passed.

== Listen. Let me be clear. I offered u to dance doesn't mean I'm eager to dance griping your body.

== Then what for?

== Only for the reason that if we2 stay here separately u will also be the target of their weapon— actually this is the cause of my headache.

== Oh father, of whom?!

== Note that on the mouth of the door stands a sharp shooter. Another gunnatic braced at the counter— drinking from a jigger. They have hidden ultratech weaponry.

== And what if I hop?

== And if we dance they won't be able to single out 2 of us from amongst the partisan crowd to easily target. Becuz while dancing everybuddy will move constantly. And we may preject to eject out of here—to live further.

== A very terroric gal! If I knew this before, I won't have admitted u here to sit with me. I then guessed u just another globelle, a hottie funadict naughty chocochick.

== Xtremely sorry. If u refused still I had to sit in this musical chair. As u see all other seats are reserved.

== However, I can't trust u further. Delilah or femme fatale whichever u might be — u grace here. The dance is hitting and hotting up —– u'll have no dearth of codancer, your boozom guniac comrade in arms at the counter will come to partner u. I leave now to save my life gifted by my parents. Jose refuses to budge. He gets up to leave.

== Oh, sure but before that—Check out if you are trying to swim in the stony mountain leaving the pond. In this case it'd be easier to swim on mountstone. Becuz? Becuz u proceed only to be triggered down by the 2 gunners.

== Why they'll kill me? I'm not their harmer? (Crossly).

== Whenever they kill / wherever they feel / as per their sweet will / do they kill / innocent people / women and children / for they've done / any harm to those guntastic guys?/ Or they victimize / being wrongly dictumized? U might not have hurt them as yet. But they finish them who they think might hurt them. As tho u haven't injured their interest till now, but since u're with me they presume u either a tec or a foeman of their rival gang who collaborates with me. So your pics already adore their hit album. Becuz they know —

So long one is good at other

the other might be better with the one

But if one is bad at other

the other might be the worst

So now they might think we're politricking to fob them for bringing them to book. They'll reciprocate. So please don't waver to buy more time. Better we plan how to get out of this trap while we dance? Ok?

Apprehending the situation appalled Jose doesn't hover more. Because as of now

jive = live

The rhythmic dance boosted by mad tuneful stance

follows the particolored focus of swirling trance

Baffled coffin to be summoned forthwith

In sombre hides to vide infra the venturous vulture

How to figure out black or white in this spectre?

Spook Of Terroria

== Jose, u dance really well I see.

== Dancing not willingly. But being contamed by u to save my life in boundage. U make me dance like monkey so i have to.

== Ahha, why are u annoyed? Chuckle.

== Ho-ho- ho ha-ha-ha hi- hi-hi......

== Quiet. Quiet. Is that a laugh? Hearing it everybody will laugh. Make yr face normal, not so huffy. They can read your mind on yr face.

== What more to do? i have to hop till i drop, have to laugh, have to remain normal before crucifiction. + what more, now i have to cry certainly?

== Noh, yr rage yet to bog down.

== No I shouldn't be angry! I was alright. All on a sudden got snared. I don't know u, not familiar to u. U must be a stubbordinate cadre of the militants. A faker now u feign to be a fakir.

.... Dilruba smirks noting the ire and fire of Jose: I haven't feigned to be a fakir. Then hear. I won't lie. During my teen age being lured by a Bangladeshi mafia Khalifa to be a heroine in filmdom, I was exported to Mumbai. Then usually what happens, eyeing to be picked up by producers and directors I had to work as an Extra being a doll of dons. Who employed me as a bar singer cum dancer to be further exported to Dubai. I had to swallow that too. But when I saw unholy alliance of them with some foreign religious hardcore terroric gangs, I escaped back to India with the help of one of their rival gang. I know 1 day they wd finish me surely. Yet let me njoy life so long I can live. At least barring me there's none to look after my old mother. Hearing I want to be a film star my father objected: If u go there u wd be a bad girl. U're still an adolescent. U wd be misutilized. Trashing that I fled secretly. only to be duped & ensnarled by Khalifa. Later I heard my dad did not last long in my grief. And since then my father's words ever flash me till now. Dilruba's eyes fog with watery vapors during her ruminating descripture on reverse lookup. Jose watched her minutely, trying to decipher if she's telling the truth and said:

We peel out past remembrances

like layers of onion

though our eyes vapor often

== Then what are U doing in this chillax?

== Now our market is at stress in Mumbai. Here is a vacancy of a bar dancer cum singer in this chillax. The proprietor of this Libido asked to see me. Tonight I've the appointment with him. By this time all this mishap. Trust me I did not entangle U with my ill fate willingly. By twist of time U'll be dragged into it, at first I couldn't primagine.

....The ire of Jose cools a little: at the time of death does my trust or untrust matter? However, you've vast experience in this line. tell me how can we log out outsmarting them?

Grins Dilruba: Good that your irritation has ceased. That's like a good boy. Listen at first from distance u try to earn as much trustworthyness to them as u can. How? Don't let them presume u as their rival gangman or policer.

== Then what'd they think me?

== Ahha, as if u assume nothing, a faker! So that they presume that we2 being lovemerged with each other, haven't noticed them at all.

== So what am I to do now?

== Ahha a feigner, will it work if u keep so much distance with me while dancing? Come closer. Grinning hug me often with a loventuring face. Looook at the pair that side. How the dancing guy hugging and kissing his partner as a heartner?

== Ah I too wanna smooch like that. But the problem is I donno that gal.

== Oh u hopeless! Dilruba sees red > did I tell u to kiss that gal or —

== Oh now clear to me—to kiss u—u just had to tell me earlier— Thus sayeth this he incloses Dilruba firmly and frantically kisses her continuously.

== Hei, what nonsense, it's bepaining. Leave me. detouch me. A body-hugger. savage! Did I tell u clasp me so pressingly? to smooch me? Her pretension.

== Ok u didn't rehearse and direct me. in what angle. how far to embrace. to brace for kiss to whom. And I ain't a filmic diva like u to act properly. So I might have overacted a little. In fact I thought from distance we try to earn as much trustworthiness to them as we can. So that they presume that we2 being lovemerged with each other, haven't noticed them at all. To script this arrangement I had to do that.

== Oh really u're a hopeless. Again shopping to grasp me? Very clever paramour I see. Only posing like a goody.

== Nay, I'm just extracting a bit of honey before I die. U mightn't agree but after death, Jam, the god of death, will surely pry before opening the gate to heaven: u died so early, tell me sony, what pleasures u njoyed in yr life in the world? Could u earn big bucks by exporting some contraband drugs?

== Nno my lord.

== Could u earn cutbacks from fodder, coal mines or any weapon supply deal?

== Nno my lord.

== Had u ever been able to seal a deal with legislators by trading horses to topple governments?

== Nno my lord.

== Ever been able to become a leader and amassed cash for your future 14 generations, emitted gas for the common people, and floated your ash all over the country?

== Nno my lord.

== Ok, been able to massacre blameless masses being suicide bomber?

== Nno my lord.

== Been able to do business with holy Bivuti being a guru?

== Nno my lord.

Now Death King Jam will be fire: What nonsense, crowing no my lord no my lord, then why come here — to show yr face? Nowadays without having 10 to 15 years of state of the art massacring experience, nobody is allowed passport to paradise. If his highness Indra, the maharaja of gods is tipped off yr news, my service will be naught. Ok, tho these are pettycase still — do u smoke?

== Nno my lord.

== Hopeless, are U alcoholaholic?

== A little.

== Excellent, any womantic ultimate pleasure?

== A little. Really not lying — only during my very last day on earth while I just a bit atouched Dilruba in dancing, she blasted me such a—

His jovial humor makes Dilruba guffawing — aha a poseur, Have I blasted u? I'm telling u not to be such a bumpkin — what's that? again why frisking me in my waistland while talking?

== Is it possible to dance without grasping the waistland? Moreover yr body I look / is so seductive that I'm hooked / to book to bedjust u in my room! But what u 're romping around my body? An unbeshamed gal!

== Really! My honey fulbeau. How many gals have u slept with till now? Dilruba quips.

== Did I count? believe me with those girls I got asleep. but with U I will spend the merry night. Hei what are U searching in my body? Jose quires.

== I see u have a weapon in your pocket. That means u 're not such a rustic as it deems and seems. Tell me who're u? A white dressed tec? Seeing yr himagic countenance I himagined if I could be heroine against u! Who ARE u? Dilruba suspicious.

== Hero? I don't have the luxury to view films tilms. Some people are fanatic about making their way to Hollywood Bollywood and other woods. Yet if they could just build their own jollywood in mind, they can stay out of woods and jolly for life. I know very well that

On the way to blue jollywood

flash your credit card ==> Enter

I'm a small businessman. I have to tour on business. Have to keep little money with me. And have to keep a weapon for that this much. And if u speak of weapon, u don't have bomb planted on u, but don't u harbor a weapon too in yr waistland? Jose countercharges.

== Then u must be a sleuth or Pirzada. Dilruba avoids his query.

== Sleuth I understand. But Pirzada who's that devil? I donno such a relic. Why? I look like that? Jose quires.

== Even his gangsters haven't seen him. So how should I know his looks? Tho I've been able to land in India with the help of his gang. I'm grateful to them for that. But I don't belong to his unit. In fact I will no more be a part of any such gang. For that I die or live whatever my fate may be. Her revealage.

Jose says: Then how'd empathize if I'm that guy? However listen, you or me / whoever may we be:

May be--what--I--am--saying > I am--not--that

,, be what you are saying > you are not that.

,, ,, what you are saying > you are just that

,, ,, what I am saying > I am just that.

Whatever may we be / now no time to probe / but only to move. Now our common target ==> to escape from this pub unhurt. Am I right? Jose bids the flaming issue.

== 100% right. Dilruba nods.

== Then come on. Let's talk straight / leaving talk of craft.

== Good, I too prefer that.

== Without knowing abc only hearing the music of dancing, as a danseuse yourself, u can well understand as me, this number of dance is nearing its end?

== This music of a known song I too use to sing. People savor it.

== However listen. 1 man—

1 man in front of counter > pocketing weapon.

1 man at the entry + exit point > pocketing weapon.

1 gate sealed after a man died in encounter with the commandos.

== 1 youngster, blue suited, bearded?

== Right.

== That's Suleiman, the bomber of their gang. Then the commandos have cordoned the resort. So not to worry. It will be harder for them to flee. Dilruba assures.

== Why no worry. You'll also be nailed. Jose nailed.

== I can't be framed to tame into custody for a long time. As what's the charge against me? I've not exported contraband drugs. Haven't helped the traitors. They've tried to draft me in their team that I've dodged and fled. On the contrary if I testify for the govt, many of them might be tracked by the intelligence. For that reason they've come here to kill me. And legally singing and dancing can't be debarred from nightclub.

== Then why didn't u surrender to police?

== In that case they wd have killed me earlier. And to do that now first I'll have to get out of this imminent danger. Dilruba reasons.

== Naturally, they're to kill you. Because — Bones are necessary for supporting the flesh. But bones are unnecessary in a kebab. However, Jose now overviews all around to get out of the shell to ink the tacktricks — then listen first. — To get out 1 gate is closed. Vigilantmosphere in the other entrance & exit, being reguarded by them. Another ultramate at the counter. Yet--

Where there is strength

hides the weakness

Where there is weakness

dries the strength

Still there is another backdoor passageway, our only survival virus. That survirus I know as I have been staying here for the last few days. That is there u see the screen. While dancing we jig our steps to that side. Behind the screen u get the door to toilet. The passage starting at the door on to the other side of the toilet leads > toward the boarder's rooms after bypassing the office, reception and security. That passage > to staircase ==> to room # 203. That's the 3rd room on first floor on the right side. That's my room. Currently my selfortress. He pauses a but.

Then reorganizes: As soon as this dance number stops, at first I slip as if going to toilet --> and then to \--> my room to wait there for u. Then your waitage to watch for the chance for selfortification. As soon as any waiter bypasses u, acting as unmindful u collide with him to turn the tray with foodstuff and beverage glassics. Then feigning to clean your smeared dress u slip thru toilet, latching the door from inside in quicktime, coming to my selfortress room to knock = to book. There we'll beducate the situation and thereforth chalk out our next road maps to escapade. Of course if u can believe me a bit. If u don't, wend for your death, I for mine. He mulls:

Time is high. time will fly

Your life is your valuable time.

You may beautilize it by beautifully

and dutifully utilizing it, or squander

by misutilizing it, as you desire

== Did I tell u that I don't trust u? Otherwise how could I sit with u so long time? Dance with u? Dilruba assuages.

== Then done (Toasting up peg) **Y**

== Done.................................. **Y**

== Ok, pegs Jose, then that's final, good luck.

(=_=) I have framed my game

Now turn on yours term (*j*)

== Ok, Good luck.

The first phase of dance selfizzles here......

Et Sequentes >>>

Penning unto so far to pauseth for prayer.

spake hapless chandan, hoi polloi kindly ear.

Humbly I cannot precasteth more hereafter.

As this puzzle hath multiple solution.

Thou elect by vote choosing a singleton.

And wiseth me up with thy option

to yarn the mistory as per your discretion.

Public Propinion Poll

Out of these probables which would u seek to tick ?

[] Will Dilruba and Jose be able to flee?

[] One of them will flee the other will be shot?

[] Or both of them will die by terroric killture?

[] Both will flee hurt and romantic all well ends well?

[] One will flee hurt one will flee unhurt?

[] Security helps Dilruba to be helped by her?

[] Terrorers will take all the partisans as hostage?

[] The terrorers will kill all and abscond?

[] The terrorers will kill all and be killed by commandos?

[] Removing revelers commandos capture terrorics?

[] One terrorer is to flee and the other treed?

[] ,, terrorer is to flee and the other is to die?

[] In sudden action hero + heroine to injure terrorics?

[] Is Jose himself Pirzada?

[] The terrorers to be killed by Jose alias Pirzada & co?

[Soliloquiz: Most mysteries of the super sphere hang in unsolved. Will this descripture also tread that path? Shall there be any survey of public propinion in this regard? — If that happens ever, also that shall not cometh unto the knowledge of this woeful fellah — who will not survive to scriptograph the denouement — which he prejects to linger as everdue. But this real situation is whispered to you only—please do not leak it out to anybody—this unworthy guy swears by his head. This extravacant trivial man endangered / remained wastrel never surrendered}.

(((((((((((()))))))))))

C o s m o s p h e r E 1 D e a r s p h e r E

1.8
Chapter 8: Faraway Milkyway

Rapidly Hurriedly

[21:55 by night superfast train. Crosspassing somewhere. Everybody's arranging for movile sleep. 1 co passenger's mention: After finishing, put the light out ...... In such outmosphere flags off this scripture.]

.... Station. Noon. Mohiuddin detrain with Sarol on the platform, searching if he can find out any other comrade of his party getting off from any other compartment. Instead of that someone grabs his hand. Watching his uniform at first Mohiuddin presumes a cop's come again to nab him. But the comer's jungle camouflage uniform and voice prove Mohi wrong: Hello Mr. Ahmed, Do you recognize me? The man in uniform questions.

== Seem to know — yea we had long discourses at Banaras party congress — comrade Roth I think? Almost 2 years gone since our last meet, ain't it? Mohi responds.

== Right. I'm Usan Roth. But not a comrade anymore.

== In what grief? Mohi asks.

== As now I'm a soldier only. A soldier has no party. no religion. only has nationality. has country. But why're you in this city? Usan Roth curoious about the duo.

== Becuz this time the party congress to hold in Rourkela. So this is my comrade Sarol and I've come here to join.

== Hi. Sarol handshakes with Ushan.

== Aponi kouthu aasilo? (where did u come from). Mohi asks.

== Bhubaneswar. I've noticed in posters and banners of Rebel Party of India that the sessions will be held here but no more news I have. As I've to join in my new posting day after tomorrow. Usan.

== Aaponi kouthu jibaa? (where'd you go). Mohi quizzes.

== Where they'd post me in the frontier. Usan responds.

== In this station now?

== For train to visit my birthing place for once again. Usan.

== Where's that?

== A small village along Odisa-Jharkhand-Chhatisgarh border. Usan tries to describe him.

== Oi train asila. (yr train's come). Mohi shows Usan.

== Mu jaaye? (Shall I go), Usan sets to go.

== Starting up. Run. Dhaikirikiri dhaikirikiri dhaikirikiri. (Rapidly hurriedly hurriedly rapidly).

Returns The Flying Ash

.... Usan boards the train. Mohi waves to see him off. Usan reciprocates. He can hear Mohi's voice thru the window: See you again. As the train speeds up Usan's mind overcasts a little. A little known man comes from far away waves him off so intimately, though he has nobody of his own in this world. And he knows not if they shall ever meet. He still is unaware of where he is to be sent for which war or shadow war. Only he knows he is to go for the kill to kill as per order or to be himself stilled. That culture cannot be called as killture or stillture. Albeit you kill a few it is a crime brand killture / if thou killeth en masse it becometh sublime war. So he knows not if he will ever return wholesome. His hands legs eyes nose throat head kidneys heart lungs brain pancreas ....... will return nonhurt or not. Yet it is his service. He is to go for he is boundaged to houndage.

Besides in his life he is not obsessed by any great purpose. any dreamatic attraction. any funtastic dreamdom. any dragging from the root.

Only to decompose time as habituated.

he clings to nothing special

only to kill time cozily

As he has no back traction

nobody to complain

none to obstruct

none to swear only my sake you stay

As if a denizen cues from backdrop

no use to do anything

it's ok on this noway

Let the time guide & glide & tide on the figure way

As he does nothing commendable

albeit so many works were to be done

With the northern wind to whistle

his plans to plant rose saplings

in garden immaterialized

Yet his times crosspass without regret

Days elapse over the eyes

lapse with flawed flowery promises

Worldic gravitations recede

from his radar gradiently

slacken every liquid bonds

perpetually complex the lines of simplex faces

Veins and byeveins expose explicit

elegant lines in palms jolt

Each rhythm of autogoing life blurs.

Life sans thirst or attraction

love sans lust is just back traction

.... He has nothing to do. Still another day in hand to drain out. How to? He springs to visit for once his birthing ancestral village, where his tweeny teeny years spent in the smell of lush greenery. Reaching there Usan reckons the village no more a village to preckon, it is pruned to a halftown. That immense green field is no more. The field is filled by waste of factories and carbonary flyash. A dustfield. There for lifting and processing of mineral ore industry so many families like them were forced to seek refuge at distant cities like Cuttack, Raipur, Bilaspur, Ranchi, Vizag, Chennai and at other places leaving their native land, taking a paltry compensation for acquisition. And those who escaped in the surrounding villages, had to remain there being contamed to be contaminated by polluted air and water with the ailments of tuberculosis, asthma, infertility, gastro enteritis, birthing defects and other diseases inflicted by the dumped waste. Today he factfinds a hill of dump has been developing in the lap of the small hill Akuti.

O

^^^^^

~~~~~~~~~~~~~``

.... The wounds scar the Akuti hills — Some miscreants dig stones out of it and crash to supply the stone chips. Once that green hill, now has no trees no grasses no flowers no fruitility no leaves no shades no maya no sympathy no pity. Those trees and greens had so long been merchandised to be doors windows beams furniture and fuelled to fulfill devourer humans. Albeit he remembers he had read in the Wanderer's Wordrobes that in its lifetime a tree of 50 ton weightage delivers the benefit to the biosphere equivalent to Rupees 15.20 lakhs in that time's market value.

.... Still who hears who bothers who preckons who realizes the entreaty of tree? Who hears who bothers who preckons who realizes the prayer of hill? Like glazing mica the clear crystal water of the r~i~v~e~r Minoti dazzled nearfrom the hill. Now that river drains the toxic industrial waste black water. Who hears who bothers who preckons who realizes the orison of river? That vast green field adjoining hill and river is no more. Huge factories and industrial estates sprouted there now routing the greenery of that once sublime greenery. Once upon a time where they used to play and ramble with their playmates..... There sitting on the rough surface of the meadow on the remainders of straw roots after cutting, once he with his chum Balovadra had a mutual spell to tell each other their first crush loventure..... Recollecting this Usan chortles. That day Balovadra equips him with the info: The gal is a mantrap to look at. I'm in love with her.

Whom you love

You know

,, know ?

If someone loves you?

== Oh that's the problem. how to know that?

== Simple. don't worry. marry her. u'd figure out fun, soon. Usan quips.

== Omg! Now I can somehow manage to carry the weight of unaware. But after marriage—oh fffather— i won't be able to bear the weightage of the funware!

.... Is there any trace of those graphics of joyous days in life? If those tales are told is there anyone to trust those? Abruptly Usan hollos in the trash zone:

W-i-l-l A-n-y-b-o-d-y T-r-u-s-ttttttttttttttttttt...

His oppugn rebounds scattering some ashes of the Akuti hills and trashes back to him:

W-i-l-l A-n-y-b-o-d-y T-r-u-s-t-ttttttttttttttttttt...

A large and deep pond diversified the vast field. On reverse lookup >> one day in his teens. Usan passing by the pond. playing his flute he pauses. looking at the gathering of a sizable crowd there. Everybody's eye centered toward the pool of water ==> There floats a corpse of 1 young man ..... the hands of the corpse are raised above water..... who perhaps wanting to live in the last moments yelled for: save, save—or Usan wonders those 2 hands incite everybody to: come who who'll dip into this deepness — come who'll come, who'll come who'll come!......Even the blistered veins in his hands are visible. His swelled body smears patches of black, sunk in water and mud, rots and melts. Whether his head is there is not obvious from the bank of the pool. Foul rotten smell drifts in ample wind..... in his wounds team of flies swarm...... Yet in deep swim / if you could negotiate the rough water / could float in familiar favorable current / hit the right spot / then you could be a prosperous lotus / But you fuel out even in the propitious water / Lost in the swirling pool dashed by waves / blued by envenomed death / bitten by fishes sinsects and flies / you surface on water swelled rotten and melted / Where elude the promistic fleurs!

.... Today if any anybody will believe and buy that once a large deep pond was there? Nobody will. No bloody buddy. As this dumpage is already filled up with garbage. There'd develop a huge multistoried commercial complex. Hither & thither many people will cometh to debit ± credit. Thou who shalt be working on those trade centers shouldst thou believe thou know thou perceive thou hear thou obey thou see thou think > beneath those real estatate buildings wast a vast pond which now made unreal. The corpse of a restless youth once floated thither who wanted to live raising his hands waved and weeded in water striving his veins and arteries struggling his body finally swelled rotted head melted wounds unhealed flies swarmed onlookers hooked stink floated crows flighted mind cried...

Effigy

.... At night introversive Usan zips to the roadside joint of Jagannath Rao for the night stay. Enclosed to national highway. The Jagannath Dhaba is well decorated. and landscaped by arbor. A shady oasis prefixed to the desert of ashes. In the awayness of Rao, his partner Parvin Rao is the possessor. Seeing after a long time, still she can recognize Usan. She cares him to guide: At first you dine. Later all good food'd run out.

.... Brouhaha sound effects at the dining space. Foodies consist mainly the drivers of long distance lorries buses and bikers. Above all the garish make up of fast food and repetitions of some fast songs in every layer, amongst which is a part of one of his known song lyrics:

... I'm now18 years

hey big brother hey father hey big brother

fix up my marriage

match my pair ...

.... After dinner Parvin apprises Usan: No room vacant tonight due to fest season. But your case is different. You're a soldier. You fight for the country. So make merry tonight. Tomorrow where'd you stay / and whether you'd get this propportunity who can say? ..... (Usan gets jolted in these words as Parvin also hints like others that the life of a soldier has no surety! While conversing Usan cannot determine her age starring at her face and the cleavage—whether she'd be in her thirties or in the forties — short in height but sturdy is her body structure.] ......So special arrangement for you—Giving A class smasher for you — daughter of rich man—comes here only for funtasy — and the cost of her food & booze free — her name is Koli — go to the netted room with your bed ready in veranda.

Coming into the net-screened improvised room Usan sees boozom Koli pouring booze and humming a love lore:

Nua nua

my eyes blush Nua nua

,, cheeks.blush Nua nua.

.... Koli is really like a stanza, even seeing him her humming lyrics continue...Usan quizzes himself...Friend, have you thirst? / Only if you have thirst water becomes intoxicating wine / and if you have no thirst the wine becomes water / Friend, have you quest? / if you have thirst you'll have elixir / and if you have quest you'll have the mountain of knowledge / Friend, do you have addiction? / Friend, do you have lust? He indigs his own response:

To live without diction & addiction

is badiction

Actually some days splash

when you ain't thirsty

but coming to lucrative introxicant

your throat thirsts like a desert

figures fissure like selfurnace.

.... From outside shafts of moonlight peep thru the parallel gaps of the net made of trimmed pieces of garnished bamboo stick into the makeshift room sliced out of the veranda, wherein by that time the sextempore flares up. The duo are primitive now — those big ignorant primitives who were not trained big to ignite fire hitting stones— those bignorants also needed not be trained to bignite passionate fire hitting a body against a body. Yet internaturally it happens.

.... Outside the makeshift room cautions Parvin — I'm coming, enters and surveying the situation at a coup d'oeil comments as if surprised : You don't bear up any delay, have started instantly! Then while filling up emptied glassics she ogles the dare bare soldierly figure of Usan de haut en bas, and inchurns his undressed figure is more inviting than that in his military dress! So it would have been bonus for her to enjoy this hot bod herself instead of deputing Koli here. But Koli knows for certain it is a myth that the hero savors the world. That means to Parvin the women have always favored and savored the mighty herotic man. As koli's prexperience is that Parvin, a good manager as well as maniser, is like a bee queen. If she comes into contact with a good figured herotic and erotic man she'd surely & certainly grab him slyly & slowly. Parvin now fakes business: Just wait till I go out then go as you like.

== Who needs to go you out? Why not join us make threesome? Usan evokes.

== Not now. Another day. After you return then — Parvin utters reluctantly.

-Exit-

.... Thereforth the pale laces of moonbeams sneaking thru the net, divide their sexhibited figureways into many parallel equal parts of light and shade, sunk in somberness for sometimes. Then Koli gabbles nonstop. Usan hears patiently to ponder she is also an effigy to be burnt to turn into ashes one day.

Partnership is like pair of shoes

Not to be misfit in other's shoes

wear the right sized shoes

for the specific feet only

to avoid any woes

He's musing about his tonight's partner.

== What're you musing? His wife for 1 night flags him.

== Yr avid looks, counterserves her hubby for 1night stand.

== Really? Koli wants to sleep bosoming him feeling secured. But she can perceive even in somber, the tempo of nonchalant Usan is not attuned to accord the normal chord. She cannot decode / why is this oblivious rambling? / Reclined blasé merged in dark / why this nonchalant diversion? / What's the cryptic gain? / Night elapses in figuring out the mute configuration of grasses outfield / Deeprooted painoptic ruefulness overlaps the windy heart. / Separated at root figurehead treetops embrace above / Mystic moonbeams tattooing the body / Pointless cozying sitting and lying / Sylvan flowers spraying distant fragrance / I can easily squander everything my deary / to gain you con amore / only if you evince your wish / But I know you like me / been recurrently done harking back / seen what is to remain unseen & unsin / I guess you a live corpse / hangovers adrift antic.

Temporal Upshot Isn't Eternal

.... Pillowing 1 hand of Usan somewhen napster Koli is to trip in nap.....But now he discovers her primatic unworried sleeping soma resting her head on her bedder's chest, bent a little in light cold.

There's nothing fixed who will head where tomorrow.

Still her temporal reliance on him bemuses him. Raising 1 hand he holds up the net curtain to view the earth of ashes palsy in sleep. In the area of garden of this dhaba stand in the way the haughty high-headed scrupulous uneven screwy bushy trees like Chhatim — as if these are the Haatim trees of neolithic age. All these unruly trees rue impertinent stubordinate tough greenish. They wall up in resistance — and chargesheet him as a man to showcause >> why the macabre wo/men have been ghastly annihilating the society of our trees and trashing the world into ashes? Is the world the pat/mat/ernal property of wo/men only?..... Usan views the sky has been reddened above the Akuti hills in the flare of factory furnace — as if it is set ablaze, and in the Minoti river its reflection looms. He drops the curtain.

.... Sleep grips him. ...... Now in his hearterrain / fizzes the terra incognita ocean of fear / swirls the wavering boat / in the terrifying wind / he knows not in which river or revere / that's not merely / to get or lose something / or to forsake everything forever....... Into deep sleep he inchurns to slip.....across the Akuti hills rise the volcanic smoke, super gale of ashes & trashes......blazing the effigy of beloved miscreated devilization of wo/men ...... In the Minoti river rushing the massive turbulent water of the deluge age. All the humankind is being swayed by the ocean of blood flood...... the sweet will joy & mirth & desires love pity kindness, the trifle straw of trust submerged in the rapids of bloody flow sway......deer, feather of birds, cruel beasts, sleeping woman, speechless baby, cannon firers sway......warcry the villain coactors & actresses of shadow war sway......the famous precious brains of wo/men, the glitz of weapons, machines, the politricks shielded by religion, art literature sculpture philosophy paintings, library, ledger of accounts, darling embrace, 7 million 77 thousand 777 wonders sway everything sway! And all the frightened humans and creatures for the last time praying like that drowned youth's 2 raised hands: Save, save; or raising alarm inciting everyone to dip

Come who who'll dip into this deepness

come who'll come, who'll come who'll come!

.... His sleep evanesces to disconnect. He wonders he was submerged in what absurd frightening plight? His throat dries like a cracked melon. He separates himself from the clasp of Koli's hands. He rises up to drink water...... No. He obsesses wo/men in future will certainly assume her/his posterity overcoming these temporal pause of stoppage.

A stop doesn't stop in a full stop for ever

Milkyway Figureway

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[ O ]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

.... Opening a part of the net curtain his eyes first hit the moon then

ply toward the pertinent Hatim trees .....then fly to the sky above the Akuti hills and Minoti river to be widened and glued in utter amazement! Signaling red yellow blue green lights a glowing extraordinary celestial vehicle is whizzing in land emitting a mild buzz ......As if a lightening whizard Para trooping down the hill and river to zero in to gorilla attack in nark dark....... His somnolence slips outright! He rubs his eyes in utter disbelief to closely watch accurately ....... Yes. Just right! But nobody will believe what he is figuring — they will dismiss it as a funtastic hoax by a ganja smoker. So he picks up the all in one Brazok machine showing time in glowing blue letters from the table and as soon as he logs in it keeping on his palm, the machine radiates some gibberish wireless signals on its screen — like which he has not marked beforth. However when he tries to snap the flyer saucer with the Brazok, the saucer diffuses its glow lights and evaporates ventre a terra. So Usan sketches a propicture of that unidentified flying machine may be from faraway milkyway, in his gizmo. Finishing the artograph, to gather more info about flier objects he searches in that machine > Flying Saucer >

.... [Patch => People of different ages viewed such flying objects, meteors, fireballs, comets many times manywhere in the earth—which they dismissed either as hallucination or as illusive and delusive outcomers from some different distant sursphere. In the regions of Costa Rica and Bermuda triangle, the fishermen often saw the mystic presence of some queer submerged saucer in front of their boat or underwater. Some commoners guessed those are not aliencrafts sent from outside the world, but rather might be the handiworks of some secret experimental project of intricate weapons or futuristic avrocraft by their brawny neighbor Uncle Sam. In India the concept of spacecraft equivalent to Unidentified Flying Objects was found in the Vedas, purans, Ramayan, Mahavarat and other Sanskrit literatures. In 1875 the ancient script of Bimanika, wherein the techknowledlge of making and flying of aircraft scripted by the sage Varadwaj, was discovered. From the ancient Indian scriptures mainly 4 types of avrocraft were found— Shakun biman, Sundar biman, Rukma biman, Tripur biman. There was some willful ambiguity in the descripture of the structure and propulsion of biman (aircraft) & roth (chariot)..... _Source: Wanderer's Wordrobes._ ]

.... In the eyes of sleeping Koli the radiation of the blinking rays from the Brazok twiddles. Her sleep ebbs. She watches on the Brazok screen some peculiar shady celestial abracadabra ballooning aerobatics like eagles. Which is boring & drab déjà vu to her. Rather minutely perking up the reflective course of subdued colory rays from the gadget on Usan's bare bod turns her on horny. She zeroes in on his central business district to crave and grab sexcitedly. She covers the screen with her hands: to look at the same drab abracadabra photos again & again bores me. Rather look at these pics > she touchscreens to change the subject > look at these > these motifs of the figurines on temple walls — ain't they lively?

.... Usan views those are the propix of erotic sculptures on the walls of Konark temple that he changes to return to what he was seeing.

== Shit. I don't like these. Come on, turn the gizmo off.

== Yea, just going.

== Night's also just gonna wane.

== Nearly finished. Just comin'.

== U won't come, ok u won't have to — She as her sexcellency abruptly turns off the machine to turn on his sextinguisher stuff as a sextrovert. Uneasy Usan cannot defend himself : Hei, what u wanna do? Wait, wait.

== Gonna do what? Konark. U see.

== Again?

== Again & again & again. Over & over. Konark is never old to be cold always gold. Summarily bulldozing his disinclinating quizzes, like a real player spanking she squeezes him to sextract his skintillating sexchequer in quicktime.

Apathetic Usan has to buckle his skindependence to go with the flo.

No harm in it

..It's better to bow for doormat bliss from baddies

..to dodge scorpion's prick of outdated scruple outskirt

.. _No harm in it_

Rather it's good

..for no strings atouched as good bad or ugly

..As sometimes how to fare & flare & dare & gear

..depends on how to go with the indulgent flo

..Or like a dor rolling on favorable slope

..you preffortlessly figureskate as far as plausible

..Or else you're vulnerable even to mate

..Tho inherent drippings of intersecretion

..in mind due to sordid boundages degenerate

No harm in it

So oh seer, what's the use of hangover

..on what should and what should not?

..It's better to be sleepy stripy drippy within

..the no frill fatigue hooked up in playmate's lap

..of figurative introxicating lapland

..in advertless inadvertent fag

..Do love deserve love if many hands serve?

..Or how far is the empyrealm milky way?

..Who visit from where by what astrocraft

..gear on which trajectory everquest how far?

..These bytes of doubt

..fizz out in unending obsession

..What's the use of inchurnation?

..Rather don the figureway of live doll in golden glee

..Answer fire by fire

..Affix the appendix with usual flirt dart

No harm in it

(((((((((((()))))))))))

C o s m o s p h e r E 1 D e a r s p h e r E

1.9
Chapter 9: Unbidden Reflexion

Own Flesh Is Foe Of Doe

Waiting room of an old age home.

[This home might be located at anywhere or manywhere in the world, that can fit in anybody's own backdrop. And the names of the unnamed characters herein and their attires & makeup can be done and redone to adjust & attune to the change of places / times and situations.}

.... A doddler child simulating baseball play, kids around the room with plaisir. And 3 person's whispering conversations splinter:

1: Oh, if we could manage from dad just 1 day beforth... we won't have to be toed into this trouble.

2: ...however now we've to grapple...

3:...to watch for the opportunity when no doc no nurse no visitor in dad's cabin, then we're to...

4:...shhh...lower yr voice. The guy at next sofa'd hear...

This time a nurse quires the guy at his waitage at the next sofa: are u Somidh Som?

== Yes.

== The patient's returned to bed. If you wanna visit him now you may...

Getting in that room Somidh reckons a gleam of bonheur in Sir's calm eyes greeting him. But Sir's face is covered with a transparent mask. So no talk. That familiar hospitalic medicinal smell. stuffocating and melancholic to him as ever. And melancholy is like ample quicksand that sinks everything into its radius. Staying in that room for sometime and after assuring Sir some positive hopes of cure, Somidh comes out of the room. Though he agnizes that numerous ailments have been dogging Sir, which are difficult to be dodged, but he cannot understand whether Sir is plugged with hearing defects. He meets the working benign nurse in passé du, the face of whom is acquainted to him a bit, for his visiting this Home for the last several days. He approaches her to preckon the current weather of Sir's health status : Sister, how do you think Sir's condition is now?

== Status of Sir as etude — endangered — respiratory stuffocation trouble — administered oxygen — besides asthma, diabetes, heart...no end of age related internal probs. Was hurt falling in bathroom — above all the menternal emotional shock that's been nagging him constantly — for that reason all his danger enhanced at a go...

== Emotional shock?

== Everybody knows, you donno? Haven't you noticed in the waiting room 3 aged folks formatting to chalk out masterplan? They've a kid with them. They're 2 daughters and a notorious son in law of Sir.

== Oh, 2 fat women and 1 black conniving-type limping man? Are they? They were murmuring — now we've to grapple—like that...

== Yea, those flocks. Sir laments these 2 daughters and that son in law whom he considered his most trusted aides, swindled him of all his shares, debentures, bonds, fixed deposits, deeds of his house, properties, jewelry, all other assets bank balance and liquid cash and forced him to sign off to transfer everything in their favor when he was severely ailing and drove him out of his house. Otherwise he had wanted to gift his property in equal proportions amongst his son & daughters. Nurse's revealage.

== O, he has other children too? Have they been informed about this condition of Sir?

== His elder son died in his childhood. Living son wanted many times to take his father to him where he lives in a foreign country. This time when he came and saw his father's affliction in the hands of his elder sisters, he transferred him to this oldage home, his father had opted. Becuz his octogenarian father doesn't want to live in foreign country in his frail health in this ripe age leaving away from country. His medical cost is covered by insurance. And Sir has donated much for this Home. So here Sir will not be neglected. Besides his son also sends him money. He is a mariner. At the call he has to join his jobs. Who knows at which sea he is at this hour — he couldn't be contacted as yet. As soon as he went, Sir's condition deteriorated due to extra pressure exerted by these 2daughters' gang. But these cheats are afraid of their stubborndinate youngest sister. She's been informed at Hong Kong. She's not a person like her younger bro to give in. She'd come to claim her pie of prop.

But you're seeing Sir's fragile condition — might expire any time. Doc madam has strictly instructed us to watch him so that he can't be made a pray to the slightest excitement.

== That's why Sir used to say,

Often solitude or unrelated people

are better than relations

Basudhoiba Kutumbakam > let the people of world be our relatives. Well, you've cared a lot for our Sir, so thanks a lot. Bye for today. Will come again.

Adjured Night n Day

.... Signing off to exit, Somidh discovers Sarol entering Sir's cabin with a vibrant gentleman.

== Strange Midh _da_ , how're U here & from when! Sarol's query.

== I've come here to visit my Sir. And you here?

== I've come with Omni Pundit _da_. He is related to Sir.

== Horribilis! You Shrewmouse—Sorex Caerulescens,

Earthworm in house

Outside shrewmouse!

Again calling me Omni Pundit! I'll slap you, pranking with me? Omni Pundit censures Sarol apparently, but is happy at the core, being called as Omni Pundit— having the hint to his omniscience.

== Oho, sorry very sorry, by mmmother, just a slip of tongue. This mistake shalt happenth no more. Sarol is amused. Well let me introduce => this is professor Romnis Pundit, our big bro, he is omniscient, ultrawise in each & every subject. (Here Omni Pundit simpers in pride). And he is Somidh _da_ , the director of our group of theatre in Kolkata and a painter.

== Horribilis! Great! There're many dramatic personae in our chathouse, but now not a single guy from the real theatre. Why not join us in our evening adda chat session some day with this lad (showing Sarol). Sitting and chatting imbibed to turn into a solid funtasy! Omni Pundit's Jeu de mots.

== Where's that? Somidh wants to know.

== Why at Bangasudha theque. Of course if you've no —

== No no, I've no such taboo. Well, I shall hang around there some day with Sarol, your Sorex Caerulescens. Sarol—Shrewmouse, attend the rehearsal as soon as you return to Kolkata. Bye today.

-Exit Somidh-

.... After Omni Pundit and Sarol left meeting him, now Sir is alone in the room. Here his identity is an old man this much. Glancing him who'd say once he was a powerful man? Nowadays who come to him none of them is his near one. May be whatever / in this case particular / the age of our Sir / some says 80 / some says 90 / some says lesser / some says more. Now he is just a he. Whose power of movement + speech is inactive but his menternal workshop is under control. When alone, he is seized by chetanavyas that is in the conscious habitude...... as if a thousand wolves eating his flesh hunting him like a stag... now he is confronted and barracked in front & back & right & left by the constant silent booing echo of death....... accompanying the deadly cool death / at the wink of death / we trail on the horrible road / But o did you know / the death of the receding glacier? / When the devouring fire bed of combustion / burns to devour the dead itself / alas, the fire bed defuses / and the death prevails / did we know? / Yes it was known / knowing we forget only for the time being / This is also known when the earth will be obliterated / to be stilled/death will also smirk as now.....

Hereforth those worlden articles and particles consumed by him so long like ..... time, society, affection, kindness, pity, love, lust, anxiety, pleasantry consumables and durables....... will also cease to exist with him! He hypothecates what might be the primaginary accounts of his expenditure till now :

1. Approximately his 4×20 years of age was spent.

2.(6 hour a day) 1×20 years of age was spent in sleep.

3.( ,, ,, a day) 1×20 years of age was spent in reflexion.

4.( ,, ,, a day) 2×20 years of age was spent in hunting money useless assets, wealth, power and possession and positional works or wastes. But within that he is totally flopped in cerebrating how to balance the exact amount of debit ± credit his consumables >>> of foods—junk papers books and periodicals—oil soaps toothpaste potato onion rice wheat vegetables fish meat—women—infrastructure—wine smoking medicines perfumes—fruits & flowers—dresses apparels & shoes—condom & sexpenditure—music movies & funtertainment—dearness and travel allowance—gas fire fuel—water carbohydrates—fondness &c......which actually how much he had used is detraceable. Here he breaks. Then he is confused regarding if he is a gainer or a loser in his current state of deactivated life in this world. Because his introdiction is that he has no right conception as to what is called win and what is loss. For that reason he perceives it was earmarked for him what he has got in this life. On the contrary is it of lesser value that he is yet alive evading a handicapped condition from any fatal accident, evading to fall in any fatal deadly disease so long, evading death so long in any killer riot war terror assassination, escaping madness in painful frustrating distress, escaping suicide? And if he dies now the world will at least be lighter of about 75 kg of his weightage!

.... Thus thinketh his continuous chetanavyas >>> the chiaroscuro of thought and action inherent in consciousness, proconsciousness, semiconsciousness & subconsciousness, which exerts its outway that reboots his senses only thru the subtle expression in his radiated index of face <<< which is somewhen uncommunicative. somewhen revelatory. sometimes clear. crystal. sometimes foggy. bitter. ecstatic. highlighted. His open eyes emotive. tired. boundaged. endangered. blinked. widened. saddened. yet talkative. submerged. jumbled. musicant. devastated. anxious. zeroed. frightened. unhappy. hesitative. rejuvenated. regeared. ardent. receded. lively. sleepless. unassured. pressurized. undelighted. lightening. hurt. suppressed. exhibited...... In the same face exude different emotive impressions and expressions in multiple joy and despair......

Born in a hospital as the youngest

1 day 1 enters his own home in which way

another day that home ain't one's own home

Folks atouched to him sham unknown & unown

Everything trifles to turn

hollow & furrow in the long run.

Thereafter enter hospital in other way as the oldest

Where the entry of sunlight pro bono is unbidden

Touch of southern wind hardly refreshes poignance

Only override inside the fading sound mantra smell

of joy and mirth from free world outside

Today's gone someway

To calibrate tomorrow somehow with no certainty,

only count down in uneager awe unto the last day

presuming always eachday the last ray

Run On Rumination

.... Different haps, mishaps, humors & rumors, essays, primaginations, dreams mix in secretions, creations and recreations fizz like a cola. Then on reverse lookup in internal secreations it can not be determined >> which of these has actually happened in his life or could have been happened; and which has happened in other's life, but assumed as if it has happened in his own life. written pages turning to white pages—dark shadow discolouring to white shadow..... those faded and jaded remembrances and amnesias like chiaroscuro of light and dark in his mind as on forgotten travel unlinked to seriality—later haps coming to first and first going to later selflash ...... the happenings might be unreal and nonhappenings become real.....because in his hindered present motionless stagnant life, only the spontaneous companion is his unbidden reflexion.......1 after another ......1 after another unatouched moving visions in different time zones....... change to rows of submerged wreckless incessant rumination abstracted from the vault of mind ...

M o v i s o n 1

.... Village house. Mother seated in the balcony. Orangey afternoon. 1 boy returning home from primary school with his slate pencil books bundled in a piece of cloth and folded umbrella viewed through the trees and bushes. He unfolds umbrella **//** | **\\\** over his head smelling to be watched by mom....... On returning home mom's censure: you unfold the umbrella near home seeing me and baked by sun all the way?...

Cut to

M o v i s o n 2

.... Village house. Mother presents him shirt & pajama cut by the tailor Sunil babu in his birthday...... After that he was given so many garments throughout the life......but still now that tiny garment seems to be the most valuable apparel to him......And oh if he could get back the tiny shirt & pajama just for once! ...

Cut to

M o v i s o n 3

.... Severe storm with downpour 1 day. Next day Tiffin time. Range of bel trees surrounding the pond at the backyard of the school. Hundreds of green and ripe bels debranched and scattered all over the cracked dry bed of the spacious pond. The boys & girls'd pick up how many? They'd eat how many? Their playing of balls down that hollow pond-bed with the wood apple bels...

Cut to

M o v i s o n 4

.... Once upon a day early in the morning a boy & a girl bound for school on foot. barefooted. wet mist. wet mud footway. wet paddy field. water logged & clogged. Teeming fickle fishes team in the field. Beneath the small unsteady bamboo bridge shoals of reddish young soal fishes swarming, watched by them.

Boy: Let's fish.

Girl: How'd we catch? Where's net or fishing rod?

Boy: Why we'll net with our wrapper?

Girl: If the Pandit teacher or in home know, they'll beat us.

Boy: Dhurrr, how they'll know? Today we won't go to school. We catch fish and go home — as if we're returning from school.

They go on fishing. That day nobody knows. But later on 1 day the duo have a quarrel to end their talking terms. girl's complaint to boy's guardians. who in turn inform the pundit teacher of the school. The boy's fate fraught bombast / that day the pundit's lamblast...

Cut to

M o v i s o n 5

.... The exam for primary scholarship ends. He is afraid. If he fails! In this woe his granddad appears 1 day with a bowl of sweets in hand to announce he has crossed the hurdle well enough...

Cut to

M o v i s o n 6

.... This is earlier........ His granddad keeping everyday for him a brass glass full of milk added with sugar in the last receding fire within the ashes of firewood in mud hearth. That lukewarm milk is elixir to him each afternoon...

Cut to

M o v i s o n 7

.... Intense rain his grandpa trailing on very slippery sticky mud road beside the river opening his shoes to negotiate, shouldering him...

Cut to

M o v i s o n 8

.... 1 day while crossing through the green cornfield with grandma he glimpses red capped police in front of him. He gets scarred to hide his face under cover of nana's clothes...

Cut to

M o v i s o n 9

.... Many years later. Then a townie college student. 1 day in the late morning he is returning home after parade from ground in khaki uniform of national cadet. A kid just like him many years ago, gets scarred to hide his face under cover of mom's dress presuming him a police...

Cut to

M o v i s o n 10

.... That's winter. Till then fields are lying desolate strawy after cutting of corn. 1 day as he is proceeding to another village with granny, he encounters in the horizon beyond the field villages after villages are blazing in dragonic fire! He reckons that fire of puerility still blazing within him! That couldn't be extinguished.

[The serving nurse enters. She does her duty with care. She checks his temperature. Pressure. Chart. Serves diet. Administers med.]

Nobody wishes still s/he is to go

None is calling him

Who aren't calling him

1 day nobody will call them too

None is remembering him

Those who aren't remembering him

1 day everybody will forget them too

As it's forgotten how it were built

Pyramid....Rhodes statue....Inca qipu

Yukatan maya city first phase of Indraprashtha

Chemystery of the Iron Pillar...

lost smell of wild ((0)) flowers in Garhwal woods

Tune & voice of Charjya songs by Dhendhopaay

He must go though he isn't inclined to

Cut to

M o v i s o n 11

.... Dhalida, a worker for their house makes a small thatched playhouse for their bro & sis. Bamboo pillars. Straw top. Mud walls. Fest season appears in their village. Workers are working full time in their house. They the kids're also making dolls of clay to celebrate the wedding of dolls with heavy enthu. Dogs, cats and kids are the honorable invitees. ......The joy of doing something imitating the elders is the raison d'etre behind their enthu and excitement in the fest......Green bananas are made to ripe in the heat and smoke of flaming straw aired by blow pipe in sealed mud hearth. The kids are in tears in smoke. Still at night during the fest feast it's discovered that the bananas are yet hard green. Half ripen. Yet that's ok...

[In the above part god has been kept dormant that is godormant. Because if the different religious gods / goddesses are kept, there might be brawl and dissension over who is the real who is unreal who is greater or who is lesser amongst their zealots. In fact this portion of this piece might be reconstructed if so needed according to customs and practices of any religious or other fest for that particular region only.]

.... His feeling acute pain due to the inevitable movement caused by nursing. Blood soaking out of bandaged wounds. His silence. Reading the imploring language of his painful eyes the nurse assures him and finishing her job more carefully she relents him and opts out. He can reckoncile besides his ripe age, this stage of his immovable state has been inflicted on him, like the green hard bananas forced to ripe by outward pressure of fire and smoke — which deteriorates further / by gradual internal erosions / fluffs to debarren marrowless hollow.

Actually whatever stays

That stays to stay

to stay to stay well nigh from within

If goes it goes to go too from within

From within it forms to form particles atoms

sursphere full of matter feature & creature

From within it forms to form

nature figure & nurture want or wont

If something lacks within erosion it deforms

From within it forms to form & reform

action faction or inaction.

On outside everything hammers influence

that is reaction.

Action => reaction <= friction => <= fraction

Cut to

M o v i s o n 12

.... Dad's come home after a long time. He is limping. Due to some badjustment of the problem of common lock and key of the room where he lives for employment, he had to cross over the boundary wall or roof and injured his one foot ...

Cut to

M o v i s o n 13

.... In ample rain cages made of small bamboo sticks have been placed at the points through which the water flows to net fish. In the frontward of the house huge water clogs. Koi fish jumping...

Cut to

M o v i s o n 14

.... He is sitting on the bow curved trunk of a palm tree lying low just above the water of a pond for catching fish with a fishing rod.. After sitting there whole day before evening he can catch just a small Chela fish! That maketh him fulfeel! His labor is rewarded!...

Cut to

M o v i s o n 15

.... He is buying shoes with granddad in this town. He has purchased him cherry colored Kabuli shoes.... What lovely is the bragging sound and scent of new shoes! ......Except that pair no other shoe he can remember now.....And where vanished his that dream town?.....Afterwards it is difficult to reckoncile the messy, dingy, littered, broken, illegally occupied town by hawkers, vendors, rowdy promoters, with that neat and clean town, his dreamdom of earlyhood........ He couldn't find later that shoe shop or the place where it was...

Cut to

M o v i s o n 16

.... Townish rented house. He asking his granddad: where're you going? I'll go with you.

: To market. I'd return shortly.

Later on he knows that his grandie's gone to his country house kidding him. fearing his whining to flank with him. His river of cries for his grandpa...

Cut to

M o v i s o n 17

.... After many years lastly his grandie been suffering from lots of ailments with respiratory nagging of asthma — in their little townhouse he's kept in a small room in the backyard — as no other room in the house is vacant then except the drawing room frequented by visitors— which can't be the depot of a seriously ill patient — that he adjusts but sadjusts — He leaves them forever at the night of the fest of illumination perhaps ravaged by the outbursting mighty decibel sound of intense fireworks & crackers — Afterwards everybody's rue — better kept the patient in the drawing room? — his weighing as his own guilt!...

Cut to

M o v i s o n 18

.... Just before the divorce with his wife the judge cross examining him: Still you've the chance to return. I'm asking you finally tell me if you miss anything of your wife?

: Yes I do.

: Then why you wanna divorce? Come on tell me what you miss of your wife?

: Her absence.

Hereforth the judge, startled, excepting the little time to realize his words, takes no more time to grant the divorce....

Cut to

M o v i s o n 19

.... Municipal primary school. Class II. After admission his attendance in 1 or 2 classes, then his ply to village house for a few days and then back to class — the teacher asking for lessons tapping his cane over his head.

: I wasn't here so I can't answer.

: Stay here after the school hours to gimme yr lesson.

He jumps out of the school leaving his new shoes after the class is over and runs to home. Mother grumbles: at least go for once to fetch back the new shoes.

But who goes? If he is asked again and flogged for his lessons! Better to drop out of that school....

Cut to

M o v i s o n 20

.... Just after his recovery from prolonged malaria, sweet fragrance from the rose garden of Ponchu doctor's dispensary...

But that was the starting time of life. And now?

Runs out his time Runs out his light

,, out his wind runs out his good & bad

,, out his come & go runs out his water

,, ,, his fire runs out his singsong

,, ,, ,, word runs out his pain

,, ,, ,, self Time to stop now

You go ahead friends let him say bye

Suicidal Ownshell

.... Thereafter hit by the whispering bits of the brazen gang of 3, Sir's inchurnation shatters — his 2daughters and a son in law's hushing voice prompts him to close down the shutters of his scarred eyelids but sharpen ears to hear

== Really why the old haggards live so long being skeletal in prolonged illness! The oldie's been suffering to trouble us constantly.

== Well said. Has no commonsense! I will die popping up slipping pills well ahead of this age! How many days more to be absent from my work?

== Oh, if he conks out now this moment, won't we be in jeopardy without having his signature in the papers?

== Absolutely. But where're we getting the propertunity to get him sign? Hindered in each step. Either somebody's enter or exit this room, or his eyes shut senseless. Sniffing us he naps in quicktime like a numero uno Napster. And by this time if this Count's youngest daughter, her excellency jumpeth suddenly from Hong Kong then all will spoil...

Dark descends

Where is fear shadows darken there

.... Open window showpieces the stardom all over welkin. Till now the little boy has been watching everything ongoing mutely clutching his mum's clothes. Now abruptly he ejects out to be vocal. Sir deeply desires to fondle and talk to his grandson. but fear phobia shadows him. fearing manhandling he doesn't roll up his eye shutters and squeezes himself in his selfortress like the abandonware. Though he can ear his crisp shrill childish voice: Ma you're asking my grandie to die, ain't it?

Everybody is startled and uneasy in his words: Na na — why so — why we'd say so? We're telling you to speak in a low voice, your grandpa's sleeping.

Yet the kid cares a straw in these words: But if grandie dies with whom should I play? No play ground in school. No body gets to play. No play ground in apartment either, and nobody to play. Only when grandie is in apartment he tells me stories, play so many games – police thief, hide & seek and others with me.

== After death surely he'll look at you from sky as a star *****

to play hide n seek with you. Mom solaces sonie.

== Everybody becomes star after death? Ok mom & dad, better you die now to become star after death? Whatta great fun ! I'll be able to see you in the sky and play hide n seek with you?

Ownshell

In awe

(wo)man

has anticed the

StatutorY WarninG

TOXIC INTAKE IS HARMFUL TO HEALTH

Who knows not death in digesting venom

Still s/he banks on daring or endearing toxin

reckonciled in sinic environ air water habitat

Even in (wo)man is more insidious assassin

Well aware s/he hasn't uninhibited these

Addictive love too deflowers in fine

Yet (wo)man loves (wo)man

Self-choking fatal ownshell

manufractures effacing its originator

(((((((((((()))))))))))

C o s m o s p h e r E 1 D e a r s p h e r E

1.10
Chapter 10: Nectar of Extimes

Time Preckoner

times gone. times bygone. times regone.

Geoscientists have devided and named the prehistoric bygone eras and epochs from Archeozoic ..... to the present Meghalaya age on the basis of some distinctive features of each age in earthen life lore.

But what is the special characteristic of to day's regular daily life, that after long long years it can be demarcated:

When Was Such Earthen Time?

.... As currently 1 day Protit is found standing at the gate of a compartment in a train waiting with tremendous anxiety. Keeping their seats, Somidh's peep thru the window of the train. Hardly 3 minutes left to whistle off. Appears Sarol shouldering a kit bag running and jostling through the crowd. He wears a new fashionable ruddy vshirt that is functional as 2 in 1 > vest come shirt

== You've no reliability. If the train left? Always latecomer. Protit's censure.

== What else'd happen? I wouldn't have gone. You've been gone. And the price of my ticket would have lost. But you aren't to come from Barasat. So how'd you experience what terrific jam on the road? Show cause by Sarol.

.... Insignificant train. Weekly. Night. Less crowded. Mostly vacant. Flags off at 21:10 ventre a terre. 2 window seats occupied by 2 of them + 1 beside them. If they're sleepy, there are 3 bunks to be bedded by them. At first tea bought from the station stall + later food piled from home of 3, beautifully utilized or beautilized by them to complete of their dinner. After dinner random chat session. Somidh and Protit are immersed on discourse of the details of a film. Dreaming plans and dreama of drama bubble out of their heads...1 after another. Sarol slams those discussions & discourses as boring ...What's the use of understanding Brecht, Stanislavsky, Sartre, Kafka, Joyce, Camus, Ghatak, Bergman, Breton, Proust, Goddard, Kurosawa, Becket, Ray, Fuko, Sen, Truffaut, Derrida ....? Much of his time has lost in the past in appreciating them. No more. It's more attractive to watch lassies rather. Sarol is impatient hearing the giggling and shrill intonations voiced from the back of their compartment. At last when the train stops at a not to stop place, beautilizing the opportunity he detrains on the ground, to have a fast look and backs to them being acutely excited after on the spot survey > A bevy of chicks at the back of the compartment. Amongst them a few are real lulu. An oldish chieftain to supervise + 2 sissy accompany them merely. Should I wangle an introsession with them?

Protit / Somidh's jokes to pump him up: Ok, go hang on have a try to fish yr madonna.

== In this vshirt u look so heroic erotic & herotic that we fear they'd crush on u.

== Me to go alone? That's dispossible. U've gotta go with me. Otherwise I'd be a minority among so many gals' chat rooms.

== Why now in this country to be a minority yields well. All will woo & coo to appease you. tickle u.

By this time they ear splinters of different intonations of high-pitched portions of dialogues, words, singsongs and unatouched chat & practices:

== Water! Why so much water?......

== Gosh, the proprietor of this troupe is even better. In my previous troupe the proprietor was so Shylock that 1 night I had to act in the role of Vidyasagar in the play Vidyasagar the Generous Ocean. Vidyasagar was clean-shaven, but I was unshaven then for past few days. So I asked him just to spare 5 bucks to shave. U know what the Prop told me — good heavens, 5 b-u-c-k-s! Oh, then no use of playing Vidyasagar tonight. Better play Poet laureate Tagore tonight. Then u needn't shave as he was bearded...[Laughs.]

.... Protit ears duologue of 2 guys on 2 bunks above their heads: taking so much time to powder the mix? Gimme, it's done now —

== You're just a lubber tiro. What u know about Khaini? Eh — 80 pressing tips + 90 pats on palm / then get khaini's charm. The guy empties his vast storage of knowledge: That means the raw pinch of dried tobacco leaf + lime is to be powdered with the thumb tip for 80 times over the palm of hand, and then to pat over the dust for 90 times, for a good prep of khaini, u understand novice?...

Protit begins to cough and abruptly, interjects into their conversation to object: Ah that way u tip and pat up the tobacco & lime dust to fly into the nose and eyes of others. And the powders of khaini you're spraying over our heads from above, in spite of the ban on khaini, what about that?

== Sorry. The guy rubs off

.... Now the chieftain, as described by Sarol, comes to supervise this side and seeing their 2 folks lay on the bunk says: You're laid already? Good. Then returning to his place back he urges everybody: It's already midnight. Everybody sleep in your own place.

**[^**! **^]** 1(male): To lie, but upon whom?

**[*** j ***]** 1(female): (in an audible voice to her co actresses) Hei someone of you go to the tabla drum master. He isn't habituated to sleep alone—[Laughs.]

**(*** j ***)** Another (female— dialoguing in funatic tone): Aha, when u are so genial why don't you go yourself to comfort him — he'd play drum on you —

Recurrent laughter

.... Protit's eyes and nose burn in the dusty air of tobacco + lime mixed khaini. Proceeding to bathroom to sprinkle water in the face, he watches a man in dhoti kurta gibbering dialogues with poses and postures in front of the mirror stationing at the door of the bathroom for a considerable period of time.

== What're u muttering for a long time blocking the passé du? Come out.

(In Protit's raps the guy turning his back to bow with modesty in sissy voice): No more stay here when you're objecting.

Returning to his seat after washing his visage: They are a troupe of theater I guess. Going to perform on a call show. Protit propines.

== Not a theater party but an opera troupe. Scheduled to perform in rural areas. Somidh's corrigendum: Just look whenever the train stops their guys're detraining at the platform and posing to be drunk. But none of they're drunk. Becuz as the train starts they jump easily to entrain.

== They're drunk by category yet conscious by propertunity. Protit observes.

About at 4 in the morning their arrival at the destination Bankura. Till then in the sky is painted the somber of the last week of October. Their chattering is on / in a tea stall outside the station / eying for the first morning bus to go on. Now that gray haired chieftain appears to enquire: Here paan is available?

== Here you won't get paan to chew. Here you'd get to drink. That too not cold but hot tea.

== Oh, it's you who were in our compartment, ain't it? Mention no more Sir. Escorting this opera troupe on call show. Joy Varat Opera. They're the trifle extra players, danseuses, accompanists, actors and actresses, artiste / in spite of that no respite / gimme this & that tit bit / bring this or that to eat / Main hero heroine, director, music director, writer / they sped by car / on roadways with the proprietor / the tail enders always tend to grizzle / being sizzled by the fizz of guzzle —

== Then how much the hero heroine's whining might be. Protit primazines.

== Oh, rightly said si(r). (Then suddenly gauging Protit from top to bottom) — Cigarette?

== I'm just smoking. No more. Thanks.

== So, does Si(r) act tact in theater teater?

== Why're u asking?

== Such a handsome figure you have, tall and stout fair complexioned — very much suitable for a theatrical hero. So I'm guessing of drama trauma — ?

Protit smirks without giving any reply. Sniffing fun the funnatic Sarol jumps into action : If he acts? Regularly he acts in club, locality, college. Just of late he acted as Debdas before boarding the train.

== (Being enthusiastic) That's it. It must be. It must be. This is the eye of a jeweler si(r). Is it a fluke that I've been surviving as the manager in this deceiving line for 36 years at a stretch, si(r)?

Protit grins and Sarol goes on with his dialogue: Why? have u any offer? You please consider we're just unemployed youth. We stay in father's hotel. Cutting father's pocket, somehow just pulling on —.

== Will not have to cut further.

== What not to cut?

== Pocket of your father .

== No more? really?

== 100%. He knows to sing?

== Sure. learned from Ostad Nalayek Khan for 3 years.

The Manager shivers: No no si(r), I'm telling from my prexperience of surviving as manager in this cadaverous line for 36 years at a stretch, those classical music usic is disused in opera line. Know bollywoody singsong tongs?

== Bollywoody filmic singsong tong in opera?

== No, it means not the language— but the tune should be of known hits of Bollywood films. The words are to be fitted by our lyricist.

== What's the advantage in it?

== Advantage is that youths'd dance with the tune. They'd blow whistles. Then our ticket sales would shoot up.

== Oh yes. Those bollywoody pops he sings at functions.

== And dance? He knows dancing stancing?

== That you may be rest assured of about 6 months of Keora dancing in a year — from the immersion of Biswakarma to Swaraswati on road track or on truck — besides at nightclubs, dance is everywhere.

== Knowing I'm assured. Of course today dancing has become easier. No need to know the rules and methods. Just a little waistland movement, a bit of restlessness, a bit of shake is enough. But si(r)— (poking a tip of snuff into his nostrils) I'm telling from my prexperience of surviving as manager in this cadaverous line for 36 years at a stretch — another thing is very very essential to master, for the actors in this opera industry nowadays

== What other thing to master?

== Dhisum Dhisum. Means fightin'. Of course we have fight master. He trains actors to fight. But a bit of earlier knowledge would be helpful.

== What u sayin'! He doesn't know that? Then who did rough up and kick out the extortionist Shamsher Jaanowaar from our area? Our this guru only. Haven't read in newspapers? Besides our guru is black belt Karate master.

== So? How I primagined you see. You're to find out whose eyes are these? I'm telling from my prexperience of surviving as manager in this cadaverous line for 36 years—

== — at a stretch. But first tell us what's the work? Tho sir I'm telling you strictly 1 thing beforehand that I'll not act as a dead soldier or a starving peasant. I will not act in any role other than the hero. Protit conditions.

== That's ok. Excepting hero you won't fit in any other role. You only in ever-spring time, grabbing the waistland of heroine ramble on & on to and fro, and sing & dance & fight out the villain. Now, yes come to the point of work. [Lowering the voice} The work is about our current Mr. Hero — let his name remain understood — his demands and whines have become skyrocketed. Because our current 2 plays: ' _Paramour of Chaste Mantrap'_ and ' _Hired Son in Law Never Absents'_ are super duper hits, so we had to badjust dates somehow. As the songs in the play has gone very popular as this one:

The son in law on rent

gets never absent

Simply eat and drink

graze the father-in-law's dog

has nothing to think

But we've been tipped of late that he has surreptitiously taken badvance money from our main contending opera party to drown us now, flouting the agreement with us. But now we have so many call shows one after another. Just today at Bankura next Bishnupur then at Adra then Chakradharpur ...... So if you agree we'd see a bit of your acting first then enter into a contract with you. But at first as a nameless debutant you'll not get much. Becuz the market for opera is dull nowadays. People aren't very eager to see opera. That golden era is over. Now so many species & spices of funtertainment to switch on at home—. But yes if you can show yr good acto de facto we'd raise your pay gradually.

== But at present I can't join yr troupe if my manager doesn't allow me.

== Yr manager means? Just said you're unemployed?

== Right. Still unemployed. But goin' to be employed. Ok if you don't trust me, the Manager is here with me, ask him. Serving the ball to Somidh's court Protit smirks to extract sneaky fun.

.... Reluctantly Somidh has to return the ball when it has turned into his court. So borrowing self imposed gravity he declares: Yes, work is in progress to float an opera party, I've seen a place for office at Chitpur. But the amount the landlord demanding as advance is exorbitant — there it clots a bit. And the hero heroines of Bangla cinema now act regularly at opera. Had preli talks with a cine heroine I know. Hiring this chap as hero against her, wanna see for once if the play runs commercially viable. If it doesn't click, we'd fire him then you can hire him if you require. Well. Bye for now. Let's go. We'd miss the bus.

.... The dazed manager in this cadaverous line experienced for 36 years at a stretch, only mutters: Bye!

Waves Run Cloud Nine Fun

.... The Trio outbreaks at the guffaw restrained so long, coming to bus stand. Bus named Sarbasree. Extra ladies' seat. Contaminated patients are forbidden to board on the bus. Morn-marooned they get seat. Bus starts at 5. it is colder then. They haven't brought any winter garments with them. in the rear seat. their wrapping themselves in 1 bedspread. like in train here too their singsong. A little later the sun changed from egg yolkish to flair & glower. Bus stops at Vaban, the rest house of the barrage projects. But Vaban is for VIPs. not for nondescript people like them. There they debus at about 7:15. A few insignificant shops on opposite side. In one of these they enter for tea & breakfast. A nagging stray dog sniffs Sarol for his whiskered face \+ ruddy vshirt + black sack + black plump figure. Yapping and yelping dog rounds him wafting his tail. The more Uncozy Sarol dismays to drive him away from him, the more he sticks to surround him with dogged tenacity and barks & wafts tail. At last Somidh pats and gives the dog breaking bits of biscuit, then he is pacified. But to appease the tomfoolery of Sarol the shopkeeper rubs vocal balm that adds salt at his wounds: O this dog barks a little but seldom bites.

Sarol: But when he'd bite somebody, his mouth is already engaged, then how he'd bark? His grumble amuses everybody.

.... Taking the cue from the shop they appear at the Youth hostel Abas. The caretaker Mir Mohammad is detraced. His stubborn subordinate = stubordinate cook + caremaker + gardener + servant + menial all in one Provu Murmu advances: Mir sahib is out. Show me the permission. Checking it he shows the room. big room. a 33 bed dormitory. beds on bunks fixed to the wall also. to be upped by the iron ladders. fancy showered bathroom. arrangement not bad. The gorgeous river basin flanked by stone pebble and sand beyond the windows robs their attention from far. Presuming the sceneries might be better from the other room, Protit applies.

== That room filled by the engineer sahib and his women relations. In Vaban is now the judge sahib. When the judge vacates, the engineer will be replaced there and you can be replaced then. Provu replies.

.... But this room ain't bad, they reckon. virtually empty. their other inmates are office workers. Sunday today. Tomorrow Monday morning they're to join office at Kharagpur. After introduction one of them quires Somidh: What name did you say? In that name there's a theater-director. Are you that guy?

== Gone crazzzzzzzzzzy? Drama trauma stage fazes me out. The very appearance of it makes me shy / my legs tremble / throat - dry.

== However you say you'll stay here for a few days. We also had decided like you before. But it's so deserted here that we're fade up. So we're packing up now.

== Why?

== Nothing's here. No relics no amusement. In evening it's desolate. Except us only chirping cricket. firefly. lakewater.

.... So after the officiants' jeep zips away towards Kharagpur, all this 33bed dorm is for the time being becomes the reigndom of the trio. Bricked upon a mound, the situation of this hostel Abas isn't bad. They climb the roof by a broken ladder. A little afforested hillock behind, and the panoramic wide expanse of water in front.

The river

originally a river

though the river may be river

may be river may be river may be river may be river

but no more a river as it's become a boundaged lake

its figure is arrested / its mind is restrained.

.... From the unfenced roof so long the eyes spread, the river hill forest cornfield village is proviewed. They break twigs of neem tree to brush tooth. Coming down they wash mouth and refresh. Eat muri, singara, jilipi bought from the shop with tea supplied by Provu.

.... Then heading toward the town. How far is the town? Near. Laid idly on the roadside the heavy studded machineries for works of dam. Seeing their unknown visages, the volley of arrows of comments of the local rustic youths pierce ==> townish tramp babus throng here to make merry... that's the raison de etre for the high price of consumer goods... Where the price of a pair of eggs has upped?... Sarol's hankering for the sweets in the hot big black frying bowl, so the flawless sweet Nikhuti is tasted. They climb atop the Shal afforested hillock at the back of Abas. As if they win Everest! Above the ^^^^ hill they flutter the flag of Shal leaf!

Turning to the river a boat of fisheries is stationed. When they want to get on the boat the boatman says, not now but tomorrow at 9 after the fishing is over.

.... Temperature scorches up a bit. Airy riverside / their apparels / kept pressed under the pebbles. Somidh and Protit swim ashore a shoal nearby. Then Somidh returns to the starting point and resting shaded behind large stone blocks. Protit swims alone now to the midstream then back to the shoulder-depth. Sarol being unlettered in swimming, delights in seeing the swimming only like a third cub of a she-goat, who cannot get the udder of the mother competing with the two other cubs who suck the 2 udders, but solaces itself in seeing only. He is bathing like a crow in knee-deep water. Hot in sundom yet feeling a bit chill. Nobody else is there on the solitary shore of river...

.... But from not very far the giggling and gabbling of 2 fanatic juene filles approaching to that site becomes gradually explicit to Somidh. He can peep through the slight gap of 2 large stones from his hide out their visagic visuals and funatic jeu de mots of punatic dialogues. Their complexion brown. Height average. The wobbling bosoms not yet blossomed heavyweight. The natural feminiq grace / perfumes their face. Of course some may feature them as le femme classic. But the proverb uttered by his grandma is reincarnated to him: In the youth each bitch is beautiful. And when these girls get old? To damn with it. He doesn't wanna disturb his peace cerebrating about them.... But his eyes scan them. Ears hear their sound effects. Then their visages bloom obviously.

.... The elder > salwar. sleeveless kameez. without orna. lock of unbound hair ends abruptly on her midback. rubber slipper. a bangle in 1 hand. wristwatch in the other: eh, forgotten to keep the watch back. Disbanding, her keeping the watch into bag.

The younger > boy cut hair. skirt frock. high hill : we're coming to bath seeing these 2 boyz without knowing how much depth in water here. Boudi warned. it'd be better to shower at home like Shrotadi.

The older: what's the fear / in water? The 2 guyz're there. u take 1, I'd take the other. She hums:

You'll wipe me out to what more unanimation?

My heartmosphere already faces extinction

The younger: The guyz are deeper water. And if we drown they'd save us? Rather they can drown us deeper.

The elder: They can drown us only becuz they're guyz? Eh, can anything fly simply because it has wings? Then all chickens could fly away before they're shredded.

[Hee hee by the duo]

The younger: How they'd drown us? Rather we can drown them + ain't u see the younger one is an egg of craven. Mustn't have known to swim. bathing in knee-deep water so / somehow like a crow. P-i-t-i-a-b-l-e-!

The older: (smirking) So what? You're an expert swimmer. Resting him on yr back you'd swim! So that u can accomplish 2 works simultaneously to see a fest + buy a banana. (simpering)

The younger: Sure, and u enjoy with the older taking him to the shoal, bah —

The older continues humming:

In which water would you immerse me further?

I am already embedded into deep water

.... She breaks the hum suddenly being elbowed by the younger to spot a 3rd sunbather sheltered behind a stone bloc couldn't be seen from far: (hushing) Here's another guy, might've heard our words.

Somidh brushing sand stands: Oh no no. I'm blind in my ears. Deaf in my eyes. I haven't seen if heard. haven't heard if seen. Actually nowadays the less u hear / & see is the better. Somidh shrugging off sand from his body, here you bath. excellent water. but be ware. don't hit on a submerged stone. my friends are here. you won't face any difficulty. I'd depart now.

The 2 girls gauging his bare chest and histat at a coup d'oeil ask: You won't bath?: (the older).

== I've finished already, see my wet wear.

== Where you stayin'?: (the younger).

== At Abas. Replying this he heads towards Abas.

Now Sarol appears in front of them with enthu leaving water to protocol: You'd bath. water deeper that side. Not too deep this side. step down here. Where have you put up, which hotel?

== At Abas.

== Only we're there at Abas dorm.

== In the next smaller room.

== Then you're those relatives of the engineer Provu told.

== Yes your honor. Leaving the bag of dress and the rovile gadget on the shore, 3 get into water now cautiously.

Then usually what happens. Exchange of names. homes. descriptions. prescriptions. To reckoncile the weightage of both the parties. Abruptly the rovile buzzes on the shore.

Not any other time

whenever bathing

it's singing all songs

ringing call phones

.... Thence Sarol calls Protit at far raising hand. Protit swimming invisible into the deep water and suddenly appearing before them piercing out of water and dramatically saluting the girls: Good day, this is your humble attendant Proit.

Oh ffather, there's a piercer I see, a water- piercer, the selectrified older girl's puntasy.

== She is Swaha and she is Lipi, Sarol introduces.

== Whether swimming is known, Protit Questions.

== No, only it is known to who is speaking, Swaha's puntastic reply.

== Then swimmeth over to that shoal, om Swaha: Protit's proposal.

== Oh ffather, I've no such long breath to go, Lipi denies.

== Then you stay here. (winking significantly) We're coming back, saying this Swaha competes to swim ahead of Protit.

== Come back quickly. Don't hook up there to nest together. Lipi's joke.

== Might as well nest up there ashore. You 2 nestle here. Swaha's straight set.

== Why didn't u go. U said u know swimming'! That means u bluffed?

== Such a tomfool u are! If I accompany them will they get propportunity to be alone together?

== Now I understand. Then they also have given us the same propportunity.

== Now u fathom at last. Then after so long the brain of Mr. Tomfool is able to puzzle out the chemystry!

== What, me a tomfool? Sarol's vanity is at jeopardy.

== Certainly a tomfool. 100 times tomfool. Booking Sarol Lipi giggles, her 2 hands splashing water on Sarol in funtasy. Sarol too with plaisir counters to rain her down.

Jump Cut

Wanderer's Wordrobes

times faded / times jaded / times fagged.

.... Sometime elapses. Returning at room Somidh changes his wet clothes and being a beau turns up at the embankment to sit over there. Evaporative frank sun. Yet due to riverain wind it is not sweltering temperature. Rather enjoyable sundom. Other than him sitting on the warm hard cemented seat is an octogenarian. bare upper part of body. with a stick in hand. Besides these 2, none is there near and far. Noting innumerable mark of signatures and crosswords of wrinkled times in his face, Somidh recalls the balm for preventing wrinkles:

[Patch => How to get the beaut bod? From the chronicles of many trotters and historians of the past like Herodotus, Pliny, Ptolemy, Megasthenes, Al Beruni, Marco Polo, Ibn Battuta, Fa Hien, Hiuen Tsang &c, many conditions of the then, now golden olden times, are unearthed. So also from the chronical of the globe trotter Wanderer in modern times, called the Wanderer's Wordrobes, the posterity would be acquainted with many subjects of this time. As this one =>

G l o b a l m

Globalm is prepared in fully natural and herbal ultramod smooth skin techtrick, beautilizing the new age techknowledge of the Bayurbed.

! Skinical shine smoother, unoily in its coco chemistry.

!! It guardeth the unsin skin from infection.

!!! It removeth the lifeless follicles from skinvasion.

!!!! It repaireth the aged wrinkles in skin.

!!!!! It revitalizeth the lively skintillating glow in skin.

It magically worketh to dazzle with a glow at one go to be like a teeny weenie face / so much so that / you can wink and raise your eyebrow / as much as you liketh / but there will be no more wrinkles or crease / that will definitely decrease. Glow is free if you buy globalm used globally! Get back skintillating tan / of youth to return. / Ahead you go for the glow.]

Waterhills Release Water

.... Somidh goes to the side of the oldie to have a chat to study him, which he takes note cerebrating that it might be used in his filmscript if found suitable. The old man has nothing to note. He talks to himself obliviously:

== Now I'm old enough for any work...hath cemented the place...the jungle scenic to whom it is scenic...and not scenic to the villagers it is not scenic...the workers will have to work to earn their living...siphoning of govt funds at the time of disbursement...gradually effacing... deforested the palm hills...stone hills...bamboo hills ...wood apple hills...those who don't knoweth how to eat the fruit Voodru...its skin is acrid...then after peeling 4 slices under the skin...it's honey if thou eateth, overdose it can't be digested if thou taketh overdose...cowboys grazeth cows... voodru exhausted...Vanch fruit is honey...Pithaali is sour ...Kend...mann wifmann & hunters who hath no means of bread...used to stay in jungles...used to eat those fruits...during the sunny days water will be released from dam...slowly the jungle is being deforested...water hills drieth up...

The king brought us. giveth us land... the tax was only one and a quarter rupee...Still we'd have to starve. Sayeth the king: only one and a quarter rupee thy revenue, still you'd starve!...Chalk hills...Barda block...Jambeda...At last the king seteth up a shop for my dad at Gorabari...{While hearing, not a sylvan but an incongruous menternal beast or probeast crops up for Somidh to sketch.}

.... Boatmen useth to anchor boats at ghats...importeth paddy ...milked cow to drink milk...giveth away...receiveth deposits...the grand oldie hadst a sword and a lantern...evening that time...hadst a lathi, like this characterstick...the name of the pitched road...sputum of bear burneth in body...blood flood...from where the road turneth...from the tune one canst cognize his playing of flute...the place called Valukchera...one had to buy 2 things kerosene & salt...dihi dihi...after the Kongsabati drowned by dam water, Pareshnath has been rehabilitated on hill...my name Robilochon Sahu...have to walk a long way...few signs and scars of the past might be noted...no law to guard your head with umbrella except the king...the kingdom of the dynasty of the sundom ...seteth down...

We've seen posts >> haven't seen light

,, have seen stones << haven't seen road.

Question = Enumerate in brief the story inside the random rambling of the old man.

Answer = From the random rambling of the old man apart from the then socioeconomic aspects and conditions, the personal story that can be decoded is thus:

The old man's name is Robilochan Sahu. The King of Ambikanagar brought his grandfather perhaps from the district of Medinipur. and given him the land against a revenue of 1.4 rupees only. That too was heavy for him. He said to the king: we'll have to starve then.

The king: Only 1.4 rupee revenue, still you've to starve?

.... At last the king set up shop to his son. One evening the old man, his grandfather, was returning home after finishing his works through the jungle. Sword tied to his waist, stick in 1 hand and lantern in the other hand. That time there was dense forest in this area, named Valukchera. After crossing some distance, a bear in the lurk of the dark grappled him. There went on jostling. The old man somehow managed to push the bear with his stick. The bear fell down. Beautilizing that chance the old man tried to climb upon a tree clinging a branch. The bear got up to spit poison. Scratched him. Dragged his feet. The old man flushed his sword collecting all his might and entered it into the widened mouth of the roaring bear....fell unconscious ..... Later the villagers lifted his blood smeared wounded body..... saved his life after long days of nursing......Today's Robilochan Sahu is the grandson of that grand old man. This Sahu has 2 sons who own 2 little shops — (where they had their breakfast in the morning).

Then usually as happens. The brothers are separated having no amity between them. As a result this old man Robilochan doesn't get proper food and care.

_Q U I Z_ _= > Near to the old Valukchera region is now which town?_

Faring Forward Leaves Backward

.... The sun swelters / Robilochan slowly deframes.

Fade out. Sarol enters the frame

Sarol hurries to Somidh with excitement: you know there's another gal with them — their pal — a resident of Biswapur — named Shrota — a little older than these 2 — a sexplosive dish — marvelous body geography — but a bit reserved type — will be a splendid match for you guru — cap to cap — without you nothing matches well!

Somidh sniggers at his genuine femmentum:

How much the geography of a wo/man looks good

that such the history might turn off your mood

.... You're not to catch a match for me, you just let yr catch play and fish her — but she's merely a child — might be sweet 17, what you say?

== Yes, might be like that, but posing as if she is 71. They talk while they're walking down the embankment.

== What's her name?

== Lipi.

== Just see what's written in your notation. But how many girlfriends you have now with this?

.... In reply he shows the disinclination of a philosopher: None should count these chickens. Because girls are energy. Then he exhausts his own theory / from his memory > We know there are several kinds of expressions of energy > 1. energy of heat 2. energy of sound 3. mechanical energy 4. energy of light 5. electrical energy 6. atomic energy 7. chemical energy 8. magnetic energy + with these add 9. women energy > the sexpression of which is sexplicit in her words of mouth, within her lingeries + in her broom. So womantic power is the 9th energy. And this womenergy has no creation no destruction — it only transforms from one girlfriend to another girlfriend!

.... Somidh smirks and spanks him frankly: A numero uno womaniac playboy I see. Full to the brim with juice. Melting juice falling dropping dropping. Now leaving all these ramblings have you any intension to eat?

== Ah for that reason I came to call. but the GFs have robbed my hunger and thirst. tho even my entrails are also being digested in hunger.

== That must be. If you swim so much you labor hard.

== What you talkin' about? Do I know how to swim? That's they.

== Without knowing swimming you're drinking water dipping dipping — a grandmaster real player.

Sarol poses coy as if beshamed =>

What you talkin' about guru! Me compared to you? May be I'm just a trifle player but you're a playwright!

.... Provu's ricemeal. The river's fish's curry with rice. Provu the avatar is master handler of the ladle juggles only but rarely release any substance, that too with great difficulty. But Sarol with dogged aplomb to get the prep from his handicrafting ladle. At the time of hunger an ounce even by pounce isn't trifle.

== Where's gone yr energy GFs? Won't they eat? Somidh.

== They've gone to attend some invitation. They're savoring great items there. And here we're destined to swallow Provu's hodgepodge. Sarol's rue.

.... After the lunch they have a nap like napster. Dorm is empty. Who were there already have left. Now this large room is temporarily in their ownership & reigndom. At afternoon they walk toward the confluence of the Kansai + Kumari rivers. A few miles walk through the free backgrounds of dam. On the way a few shots were taken in the probe for probable location. Down the high way of the dam shows up the village like a picture. click. 2 pondful of crystal water. click Green carpet of paddy fields spread apart. click. Familiar sound of pumping water jumps Samidh's heart beat in deep breath. As this is the known sound allover his childhood. that too at such a village. on the bank of a river..... A thunder struck dried beheaded tree like a fine sculpture **'\|/"**

Still it hangs on what expectation? click.

.... On the other side of the barrage watery artmosphere. click. boundaged by boulders. pitched solitary road. After several kilos of walk a few thatched huts of fishermen. Cemented benches beneath the bald hillock facing the vast panoramic storage of barrage water. Slightly after that on the wayside hillock till is the temporary tin-shed temple of Pareshnath. Outside the temple lies openly unguarded, some invaluable antique art piece of ancient stone images. With the Sivalinga, the images of gods and goddesses which have been dug out from the bed of the river, and they who are to give shelter and hope to their worshippers, now themselves are homeless refugees with uncertain future. as who knows where they shall find their home at last? or might be smuggled to some foreign shore. 6 truckful of such images have already been dispatched to Kolkata. But the Sivalinga is lucky to find a place in the temple.

.... The trio saw only a single loaded car to have crossed them on the road. Now they notice that very car packed with wo/men recrossed in front of their nose to speed away. Seeing the activities of Pareshnath / Parswanath of the Jainism, they again track back to their scheduled road. Before and after the fishermen's huts, fine intricate fisher's nets like slough are spread to dry on the solitary road. None is there to trample it. Walking furthermore the confluence of Kansai + Kumari is reached. But then the earthen moon has appeared with its full ardor. So they do not descend to touch the riverside. That bent of the road has some temporary cluster of bivouacs on site for the coolies of a present contractor of the dam Amir Alam. There camp the coolie boss Jaadu Mahato and a herd of the male + female coolies. They are uniquely unreacted. If asked they do not easily reply. Sitting on the candle-lit gadi, Jaadu boss is more nonreactive. After asking for drinking water a few times they get water. Drinking water collected from spring. In the crow cawing moonlit after ferrying the last trip appear Subal and Chatur singing. They are related as maternal uncle and nephew. About of same age, they are smart lively and open heartistic.

== Can we go on boating now?

== Sorry babu it can't be done now. After 5 pm ferrying is prohibited. If we row boat now they'd take us as lifters of fishing nets spread into the river and get us arrested.

After taking their daily wage and refreshment the coolies go for shopping in the market at Gorabari by truck. Somidhs also prefer to accompany them. With them Subal + Chatur. The dancing truck navigates through the rural cobbled and stony uneven down side road branched from the dam. On the truck in the unfettered moonlight Chatur and the coolies sing in chorus. Somidhs also join attuned to the fine tune word to wording. So long mute Sarol being moonstruck and spellbound in this open merry go ground abruptly becomes talkie, voices to Subal and Chatur: My father too is contractor. So since childhood I too had the pre-experience of coming in contact with coolies in such places in the work of developing roads and construction.

Subol: Contractor of where? here?

Sarol: No at Coachbihar. But before that works were done in such places of Bankura-Purulia...such roads...such wilderness ... heavenly moonlight... fragrance of paddy field ... such transportation on open truck...

Protit and Somidh are puzzled to hear the abrupt monologue in refined language by Sarol!

.... They have their tea in a shop near to the place where in the morning they bought eggs &c. then continue their adda to extract the news of this remote townlet, standing beside the stationed truck. Small towns dream of larger ones. But donning ultramod dresses, garner the lively unappointed youths. confabbing. Shopping the ultramoody wavering wives and daughters of clerks and officers who have been unwittingly posted to this end of the world. The playground of a school nearby. place for puja. roadside market. The truck restarts after the marketing is over.

.... Deloading them in a somber solitary four point crossing toward Valukchera, Chatur directs: Go straight. Not very far off from here. See you tomorrow evening.

.... Decamped, they watch the nautch-dancing truck blinking its backside dim red light speeds away on the shaky road toward Pareshnath and fizzles.

.... They keep walking. They have inked deal with Chatur & Subal to reach at Pareshnath before 5 in the evening next day. To waft on the boat. Along with mahua drinks. Today at the eatery Provu was kind enough to promise to supply the pure mahua drink tonight. at a price of 5 rupees. Hearing this Chatur snorts: Babu, gonna mad? They fake 12 rupees a bottle water diluted mahua as pure for 25 rupees. Babus think they consume the original. Tomorrow night you see we'd serve you with the original thing. ?20 a bottle. you can't consume a bottle at one go. chest burns. so many people die. Subal knowing the price of chicken per plate taken by Provu from them wonders: Howzaat! You'd gotta whole chicken in its half price. Tomorrow we'd feed you. So hearing their promise they hope to have a feast with chicken curry rice and mahua drinks in the moonlit night staying at the coolie camp of lord Jaadu ..... But now they saunter toward their Abas. leaving behind them their so long traversed places paths and lively characters......

Whatsoever we fare forward >

< some something remains behind

Some something or some otherthing

Whatsoever we fare forward >>

<< some somebody remains behind

Some somebody or some otherbody

,, otherbody or some otherthing

(((((((((((()))))))))))

C o s m o s p h e r E 1 D e a r s p h e r E

1.11
Chapter 11: Deviation Times

There is no Fence

.... On the way Somidh sings: I was reflected like a simple pond....... The songs end one after another but the way doesn't end. Somidh's road maps are that in this tour wherever they will visit, the script and scenario will be based on the spot, location, people and environs thereof. As per that blueprint the script writing has started and the locations are being spotted. Sarol doesn't like doesn't understand rather doesn't want to understand their dreams and dreamatic script. His opinion or propinion is that: If you donna have funtertainment, action in your play or film, people won't gonna eat that. But does your play flaunt such action?

Reading the menternal graphicture of Sarol they 2 are bemused. Somidh promptly rebounds: Now a days popular entertainment everywhere is rented.

As entertainment is rented antic

in the rentertainment mart

to be popular it demands to be

more or less melodramatic

But in our case if there's any natural sequence of action, it's ok — otherwise no false newtopian dhisum dhisum. Because In our wishdom —

In our wishdom

we prefer to do as we wish

that I differ and defer

as I refer it to wisdom

== Ok then suppose, this situation is present in our film > Dark rural road. cars + carriages = almost 0. walkers = 0. sound = continuous chirring cricket cry / In the sky = wholesale moonlight. No other light tight = nil. Players = 3 walkers. Here how action might enter internaturally? Sarol quires.

== You figure out your concept and say. It is natural that—

Where there's no fence

is often subjected to offence

and objected by defence

== Thieves robber smugglers might come?

== Thieves won't come here. They like locality like cats. But robber and smuggler gangs might come. Who we have to defend. Protit thinks.

== Well, how can be the situation now if robbers torch us? Sarol interrogates.

== In the operation we may die. Robbing everything from us >> 1) they may kill us 2) they may acquit us nonhurt 3) wounding they may acquit us 4) if good luck prevails we may escape unhurt. Applying intelligence. As one thing is sure / in this case here:

You know the bugs will feel terrible

but for that can you let them suck blood?

Protit propines.

== Nnnno, you're the hero of the film. Oh sorry, you don't have hero tiro. Ok, u're a main character. If u die at the beginning, the film would definitely flop. Rather everybody should be alive. Sarol's disillusionment.

Now Return To Plain

.... Silence resumes for sometime. They preckoncile ......not so much time should have taken to home ..... looking at watch they cogitate they have covered more than 2 hours travel in place of 1 hour, still their travail is not yet ended. Valukchera hasn't yet come. Then is it that they have walked on the opposite way from the four-point bight? Haven't they marked so long? How could they? Outside the hamlets there are no street lamps. So here is no light. No landmark to note. The road divides the bare fields. The field that winks you to it but itself evades. toujours. Now abruptly a light sourced from the headlights like a buzzing bee, approaching them in normal travelocity obsesses Protit is haunted by these lines:

Now return to plain

In the agone evening at far away

who goes? ==> who goes there?

As on ups & downs at blindense night

you growl in the dark holed by focal headlight

liaise on valley like an utmost loaded truck

Still why you trotten on uneven track

Now return to plain

let's turn to be back

By your harsh honking

sleeping toddlers will be scared to cry

in fear of the befalling posterity

On leaves of banyan tree like bob cut woman

dusts will ramble to settle

What I've gotten from you?

Only promise of distance

wrecking uncertainty of a mantle of de light

vulnerability of kerosene lamp in storm!

Roamingatgatetogateyoufadeupmychum!

Still why you tread on uneven track

Now return to plain

let's turn to be back

.... The truck halts by their signal after bypassing them slowing its speed and cautions the driver: Don't go ahead further babus, the herd of marauding elephants from the Dalma hills is closing in this way.

== Then how would we return to our hotel?

== I see you're townie guyz. Where you're going at night?

Then hearing the name of the place, the driver adds: oh, you've just come on the opposite directions. By this road you'd reach Jhilimili at last. Now the last bus left this way.

== Then what to do? Where your lorry is going?

== It's going to that place you aim to reach; you may come with me if you like —

== Should we tell you that anymore? You take the fare.

== That to be decided later. First get on. (He opens the door of cabin for drivers).

The trio sits very closed and squeezed beside the driver for paucity of space. Protit thanks the driver: You've saved us. Else we could be stampeded by the elephant's feet.

.... The driver turns off cabin light and starts truck. In quicktime the rash truck rushes daredevil ventre a terre. Sarol seated beside the driver who says him spanking : hey lad, come closer to me. Sit easy cozy and comfortable.

.... Sarol mulls to object him to be called a lad, but the driver's huge solid black body, his blinking drowsy red eyes starring at him in the dark and uneven white bucktooth like a sped, smirk and extract fun. As if the demon has snared his catch. Sarol is so much squeezed by the pressure of the driver that he introvises — who knows if he is a gay? He can't express his menternal uneasiness to his friends. He is not fluent in any other language except Bangla, so that he can describe his flattened sandwiched condition even in front of the driver. Being pressed and oppressed between the 2 sides one time he gives up his preffort to let it go to the denouement. Is the man a ghost? If a ghost, he is a laughing ghost. He only laughs grins and smirks at intervals. His spade like uneven teeth. 2 burning red dread drunken eyes. If the ghost has any bad motive? If he cheats loots boots and kills them nobody would come to save them. Here his action heroes or any herotica will not actually come to act. Frightened sandwiched Sarol somehow spends his time in obsession. He will be saved if somehow he can reach Abas.

.... The rash truck rushes untamed to fly on the high way. Lights flash from its widened eyes on the wide open fields ponds, on two sides of the road trees flowers bushes marshes & meadows hillocks fleeing wild animals, on the flying birds and fleeing beast's body, on the eyes of owl in a remote province on a scattered unknown way in the sublime directory — the travel maps of which are not at all agnized to the humans and creatures of Nicaragua, Congo or Yakutsk. On the ancient edition of the map, the great great grandfather of the grandfather of Robilochan Sahu once upon a time might have been treaded. On this path abruptly a strong scent mesmerizes them for sometime.

A frantic aroma numbing the senses in rustic wind?

Terra incognita smell of river, lake, fish, soil

grosspective des fleurs tree or hill

or of any volcanic eruption in the Mrigasira star

or sensing of cuddling heroine at make up room?

.. Smell of burning bride in kerosene?

Or the primatic everquest of the Neanderthals'

huddle to confab feting sun O moon (| stars ***

gibber on techniche of stone weapons, hunting

forest fire, blizzard, deluge, thong of thunder strikes

or on the attack of gorilla tacktricks?

That voodoo tutelage can't be learnt

Still extime is elixir

(} ==> ==> ==> ==> ==> ==> O

Or is it scent of the olden mummies under Sahara?

Scent of spraying scent / or of flushing out scent

of cooling, pacifying or endearing fragrance?

Then like the abrupt distrace of the wooing leader

after the shower of promistic electioneering

at one time the smell defuses

Still the burnt time is not hoax. extime is nectar

A desperate aroma sedating senses in rustic wind?

21:00. Protit notes the clock of the truck. They have started in the afternoon. Now night has engrossed them because of wavering losing the way. Here it seems it is dead of night. But if in Kolkata he logs in the discotheque many nights after this time. There it's just the evening of skinful night sinery. Again it's not 9 pm, the standard earthen time everywhere now. Hither the question is:

Q: = If it is 9 pm in India, what's the time now in the Pluto? Though ==

Perpetual times never sever

Yet in the shorter version

times lapse / times clasp / times elapse

(((((((((((()))))))))))

C o s m o s p h e r E 1 D e a r s p h e r E

1.12
Chapter 12: Rhymes Of Times

Winging Heartmosphere

.... Tides recent time. Glides recent time. Slides recent time.

So many plausible tales to tell. to tell in open heart. long untrotten paths to trudge. creating ripples through the wind to find dreamdom. to be grown as a huge tree from the seedling of love. the dreamagination of a golden creeper to grow hugging a giant tree. abruptly rams the fierce tornado. Uprooting everything into the black hole of infinite times....

== Engrossed into which thought, Shrotadi? sauntering Lipi's restless curiosity.

== Where, it's nothing. Shrota's brainwaves get hindered, bypassing the question to be engulfed by musing again... A flight of birds glides away

Lucid lavish moony night as it is

Drift away rows of egrets ~!~ ~!~ ~!~

Come from where? If come guests ~!~ ~!~

of the far, why they go? and if go away ~!~

why they come to nestle in the hearts ~!~

and again opt glidance to the wilderness?

Mutely tracks the flawless fluent heartizen

mattering muttering fluttering queerly

It emits back the senses of a diluted night?

The touch of a previous riled hearterrain?

A bit of pensive pretaste of prebirth?

May be nothing is entity as of above

It can't be told to anybody

It can't be retold to anybody

It can't be detailed to manybody

It can't be revealed to manybody

Gliding the gloomy heartmosphere

in indefinite pangs who knows

it is enticed into which swirls & cycles?

Eh, Shrotadi, dreaming whom? Songket? <== Swaha.

No, no more attouched to Songket <== Shrota.

What for? <== Lipi pressing & oppressing her rovile gadget in play mode and mood.

== Because he's thinking himself a big player like Platini or Maradona, getting the chance to play in a big Kolkata soccer club. So he might have hooked to some other girl. Due to that perhaps when I asked him to come here he said he has match to play. But in the newspaper I found no match schedule of their red and yellow brigade now. So u stay / with your play. I don't need you anymore, goodbye!

== Congrats to you for that. U been so conjured by Songket that we thought u dropped anchor on His shore and gone stuck into the silt labelled as love. Oh, does the same tad fad taste good day after day? U're to change it now and then! Swaha's sermon.

== Right. If it's not new day by day / what else is the funatic way? Lipi elucidates—

The fun of love's charm

like tea or coffee when warm

.... To skirt their attention Shrota shows the rows of flighting birds and ask in pretense == Say / which birds are they?

== Might be egrets. Guessing Swaha pelts stones blindly.

== Showing egrets? Ok can you tell which bird doesn't fly? Lipi's riddle. When nobody can say she herself solves — early bird.

== Ok, tell me which wire doesn't require current?

== Require.

== Correct.

.... While hanging around they were unaware that they have jazzed around a long distance beside the barrage and now the trio fears if forwarding more becomes a mistance for girls at this hour of night?

== At talking we've come far away from Abas hostel. Here if raped and killed and dumped into the water, nobody will know at this night. Let's turn back. On Shrota's cue everybody turns to return.

== But if now dacoits barge on us — either cough out all the money and trinkets you have or dole out your life — what'd you do?

== I'd rather tell the guyz, take my life if you wanna take, becuz if I'm to give out money / how will I get to eat in my old age, honey? Her jocular telling raises laughter.

== Nay, no jokes. If really some goons attack us what a fierce gladventure shall it be! — Such a big fight shall it be! — Haven't u seen in Dil ki Rani film how the heroine mowed over the whole band of ruffians alone? And if our heroes know of the attack on us can they be far behind? What do you say Swaha? Hero fan Lipi's herotica.

Swaha ==: Really if they know they'll definitely rush here to rescue.

== Oh mom, in this short time you've managed to hook party? Shrota's fake amazement!

== Managing boyz iz what a hard job? They're always vulnerable to be hooked. Besides what to do? Living is for a few days only. Remember what poet Omar said, make merry before you're dissolved into the dust. Can we ignore the poet's sad advice or sadvice? Where's the so much time to wait & waste? Previously there waz time for prelude. Now instant auto start. hold the wooden panel and just nail.

== But not only our heroz, presuming Songket's exit from you, we've gotta piece reserved for you too. Cut piece. He simply cuts to slip away.

== That's so kind of you. But whozzat?

== Why, we've told you about Somidhda. A perfect match for you. a bit of serious stuff having the wackness. But like a slithery Pankal fish. always sleeks over. U charm him casting your net, so that he can't escape. As also apart for others —

There must be

woods for the woodpeckers

fishes for the kingfishers

women for men

and men for women

== I don't need the man. the same dialogue. funtasy in mantasy. If u need u hook up fishing him. capture small or large fish as u like. Shrota's acerb repercussion.

== Aha, here cometh the yogi, sorry yogini! Don't flaunt that typical jargon of repeating long breath—brio and melodramatic crying of novelic & filmic heroines of last century—who, in case of sharing the same room with the hero at night, used to curtain up a cloth or a bedcover or sari—dividing their 2 beds in the middle of their room for show—have hunger but beshamed to tell that. My body flames up in rage to watch this snobby foggy fakery! What do u think of yourself? A goddess? We're girl, u too. Have u any special apparatus in your body? Swaha's bitter litter.

== Just consider the men are the root of all hassle for women. As for example >>> maniac (here man); menstruation (here are 'men'); menopause (here are 'men'); manicure (here are 'men'); women (here are 'men'); gynecology (here are guy = 'men'); hysterectomy (here are his = 'men')...A-men! how'd you delete men? Shrota smirks in Lipi's humor, but Swaha can't yet fully ingest the prick of Shrota: Ok you're waiting for Mr. Right of your life — that do most girls. But when that His majesty Man will be cometh or not, to enjoy in the meantime happy holidays with Mr. Wrongs funtastically—is the fad, the xtramistiq real charm. Coming here for the few days if u can bag somebody extra then why should u starve like a fathead?

== Aha why're u peeved? Saying this Shrota wants to enrage her further.

== Peeved? Why should I be that? At this aromantic moontastic night?

Swallowing her hidden ire, Swaha begins singsong. Heartistic type of songs are sung while trudging back..... Everybody gears the lead voice. spreads voice. tops voice. opens voice. plays voice. lowers voice. raises voice. in tune. nontune. forgets the song lyrics. omits the song. configures another song. recalls the lyrics......thus after wavering for sometime these flow of rime & rhythm flaw.

.... They could not presume at the time of sauntering what a long way they have covered. But now on the way of return they fear should their returnal journey not turn rather eternal! Though well paved road. beside the barrage. straight. the road one and only. lonely. plainly. no other way to lose, miss mess and sway. Yet the road as if does not end. The thought of this flashes the song => If the road never ends> in Swaha's mind. She proceeds humming but after the first line recedes, solilogues: Nay, where's Uttam Kumar?

[Patch => Uttam Kumar (1920-1980) — the people's Mahanayak (= great hero), was a legendary actor, and also a director and music composer. He acted over 250 Bangla and Hindi films. His films opposite his onscreen heroine Suchitra Sen were particularly hugely popular. A few of his films: Agni Parikkha, Sagarika, Sapmochan, Saptapadi, Harano Sur and Nayak etc. _Source: Wanderer's Wordrobes._ ]

Without a bike and the hero, doesn't this song mismatch? Lipi flops to sit on the bank of the road: I can walk no more. my legs straining. I drop anchor my body here. sent message. but Sarol's rovile is switched off.

Cerebrating the break down in the midway might delay in homing, Shrota conjures: Keep up the songs, your heroes would pop up drawn by your songs. sure.

== Promise? Impregnated by her promistic inspiration they're again retuned to their track

Current Fun Diffuse & Transturn

.... In the mystic lunarhyme is seen a few distant foggy figures inching towards them in slow travelocity from the opposite direction chatting in restraint. Shrota & co precautiously stops humming + moving. What if they might be yobos! Who just a little earlier have blustered herotica of fighting and thrilling movies, that very Lipi at first grips Shrota's hand silently being scared. Shrota ennerves her: Why 're you scared even in advance? At this dead of night here on this road has no walker. no bank. no locality. for which rogues and monster in laws might come! After the distance between the 2 parties shrinks, the faint voices seem to be little familiar to Swaha and Lipi..... Gradually the attires beseem acquainted to them — specially Lipi doesn't make mistake to cognize the owner of the fashion wear ruddy vshirt. She exclaims delightfully in a low tone=> Omg, they are Sarols!

== Your heroes?

== No mademoiselle, not only of ours. There's your hero too — that Pankal fish. She waits no more to run to the Protits.

== Why did you lay off your songs? Scared? Thought yobos coming? Protit lobs the ball of conversation.

Lipi now tops her protest== Scared? We got scared?? Hah ha, what u talkin' about??? The gals from Biswapur don't know fear, understand? If we got scared how could we come so far at this hour of night? Did you think us cowards and softies?

Sarol pricks: No no why should you be a softy? Nay girlie, you're a toughie, a Foolan Debi.

Everybody bursts into laughter that infuriates her: It won't be good Mr. Tomfool. Then she countercharges coup de main => You promised to meet us just after the dinner? The unique conscious timer! Only 2 hours late.

== Sorry, sorry.

== Oh, just telling sorry shall excuse the 5 times death penalty into one time? Swaha joined Lipi.

== Losing way diverted us to wrong way, but could somehow return to Provu's den. Good luck that we haven't trampled by drunken elephant.

== Drunk elephant! Omg, what's the bottle in your hand? Elephants can smell their favourite booze. Did the drunken elephant guzzle it? Is it country hooch Haria or Taria?

No Drakkharista.== Sarol.

Nay Mahuarista == Protit's amendment.

.... {Behind the scene > After the dinner at the dining room Provu appeareth with his bottle of Mahua elixir as promised: it's pure! — But where can we utilize it apeace? Provu scares the hindrances everywhere. Up the roof the fear of falling down. at the garden drinking prohibited. at the embankment the guards might trace out. ..... That implies he also expects a shot of mahua. Sniffing that Protit pours a shot in his glass => Now I hope no fear in drinking at anywhere? Provu bows: What u talking about sire! Go to the moony dam / there's nobody to damn – you at this hour of night.}....

Swaha== Pure?

Protit== Pure for sure. Lifting warhorse Sarol upon the bear's shoulder to pluck fresh mahua from tree, cooked and doctored at the kitchen of saint yogiraj srimat Provubar Murmu by himself, handicrafted and manufractured in Valukchera village.

Funtasia ha ha hi hi of all

.... So herefore I proposeth and ardently prequest to all who might be concerned that without inflicting more grief to this wretched bottle of nectar to await longer, let it be beautifully utilized by us, let us beautilize this guzzle immediately to perform its last rite.

hear hear

Sarol: I supporteth this proposal wholeheartedly.

.... Everybody seated in the cemented fence beside the road and the bottle doing the round reaches Shrota who refuses mildly == I won't, u carry on.

== Why? u'll be a baddy? Should there be different treatment amongst the treaders on the same way? U tell me? She looks at Somidh for support. But then she preckons: Oh sorry you haven't been introduced to Shrotadi. Ok this is Shrotadi, appeared in the final exam from Michael College at Biswapur. A brilliant student. Not worst sort like us. Probably u'll find her name in the list of the first 20 candidates when the result outs. And this is Somidhda; in Kolkata drama trama film tilm — Somidh doesn't let Swaha to end her word — I just see drama fama films ilms. As I'm jobless. And the name Shrota is not unheard to me courtesy my friends. — So you ain't unknown to me.

== That's the same for both of us. I also heard u from my friends. So known to me. Shrota's response.

== Oh mom, this hedge won't do here. Everybuddy be frank open and above board easy cozy comfortable and candid in this splendid night, Swaha's dictum.

== Well then friend's friend = we're friends. So any differential treatment amongst the goers on the same path way will be futile, unfruitful so to say unfruitile — of course if here the fruit = mahua is not prohibited to anybody. Somidh's argument. And as you know well—

Sheer Cheer appear

when something appear dear

as well as disappear undear

-All other's hear hear-

== No I've no such taboo. But cold settled in my throat —

== This elixir will cure yr cold and cough u see. Then the boozers now boozom friends pour mahua into her throat and yell => C h e e r s —

== It seems it's pure. The throat is inflaming and burning, Shrota adds.

.... In the mean time inebriated Sarol has a slight rolling. He suggests Shrota: Should I dilute it slightly with water. It will burn you less. River water? Next moment abruptly he picks the bottle and climbs down toward the river.

Shrota resists him=> Nno, I don't need water. You don't have to go anymore. U donno swimming. Staggering drowsy if u flop into the river what'd happen? All of us shall be handcuffed.

== What u say? I'm drowsy. drugged? drunkard? boozer? flopper? fooh! not at all. nope. just see. Look, any flaw in my stepping? Am I staggering? Then swinging and rolling he singsongs in a rugged voice and begins toxic flimsy filmsy dancing. Swaha Lipi Protit Sarol clap and hum and hip hop. But forgetting the wordings they handover the baton of singing to Somidh. Somidh sings. The others repeat his song again and again while clapping & dancing in unison:

Somidh ========.> Eachbody in chorus

[^!^] =========.> (*!*) [*j*] (*t*) [*T*]

gone to reap corn ==.> gone to reap corn

gone to reap corn ==.> gone to reap corn

gone to reap corn ==.> gone to reap corn

1 man 2 man=====.> 3 man.... 4.....man

gone to reap corn ==.> gone to reap corn

gone to reap corn == > gone to reap corn

1 man 2- 3 – 4 man => 5---6---7---8 man

gone to reap corn ==.> gone to reap corn

gone to reap corn ==> gone to reap corn

.....................................................

(*!*)

Dragged Shrota doesn't join in the dancing spree lest she whoops in cough. (Lipi + Sarol) and {Swaha + Protit} partner and clap in dancing with the song of Somidh, easily and cozily like a flowing rhythm of verse. Which while watching under the starry sky Shrota reckonciles—

The cosmosphere is temporal

ever-changing and consequential

So is the world

.... Likewise these waves of tunes of song with the rhythm of dancing transverse and transform ==> from real to unreal, from gist to mist, from concrete to discrete, from extract to abstract, from time to untime, from sign to resign, from person to imperson, from speakable to unspeakable, from emotion to demotion, from inception to conception, from work to cause, from present to past, from belief to unbelief, from definite to infinite, from bound to unbound, from compound to primal, from beauty to unentity, from unisome to lonesome, from infallible to fallible, from addition to subtraction, from vocal to silent, from karmic to nonkarmic, from body to nobody, from uneasy to easy, from time to untime, from ashore to deshore, from done to undone, from distress to destressed, from orbit to morbid, from erosion to corrosion, from part to depart, from amount to surmount, from visible to invisible, from accepted to unaccepted, from occurrence to noccurrence, from house to houseless, from trance to distrance, from sense to desense, from exhibit to hint, from announce to renounce, from scent to descent, from figure to disfigure, from drawn to withdrawn, from handicap to uncap, from sprout to rout, from figure to disfigure, from visage to envisage, from compound to confound, from movile to immobile, from known to unknown, from thinkable to unthinkable, from regular to irregular, from immediate to infinite, from cover to uncover, from saturated to desaturated, from measurable to miserable, from familiar to unfamiliar, from winable to nonwinable, from organic to inorganic, from compliance to impliance, from knowledge to ignorance, from region to legion, from mouth to source, from surface to base, from trace to detrace, from perceptible to imperceptible, from comparable to incomparable, from belief to unbelief, from domitable to indomitable, from near to afar, from scene to unscene, from seen to unseen , from unique to spook, from tangible to intangible, from chain to sovereign, from definite to indefinite, from dependent to independent, from fragile to imperishable, from offer to differ, from meaning to meaningless, from end to endless, from source to desource, from time to infinitime, from clear to obscure, from shelter to deshelter, from barred to unbarred, from cause to causeless, from fixed to infinitum, from said to unsaid, from answer to question, from purpose to purposeless, from bloom to bud, from germination to germ, from precedent to unprecedented, from real to unreal, from distinct to indistinct, from direct to indirect, from moment to constant, from sudden to lengthen, from earthy to unearthy, from awaiting to unawaiting, from published to unpublished, from visible to invisible, from like to unlike, from defined to undefined, from resistible to irresistible, from hindered to unhindered, from aware to unaware, from limited to unlimited, from boundage to freedom, from form to deform, from being to unbeing, from base to baseless, from realize to paralyze, from situated to saturated, from told to untold, from spoken to unspoken, from well to unwell, from known to unknown, from part to whole, from divided to undivided, from divisible to indivisible, from mixed to unmixed, from internal to eternal, from spent to unspent, from ceasing to unceasing, from thinkable to unthinkable, from spoken to unspoken, from enjoy to unjoy, from divergent to convergent, from pale to spell, from clogged to unclogged, from prolight to unlight, from numbered to unnumbered, from restrained to unrestrained, from attached to detached, from afraid to unafraid, from concerned to unconcerned, from contact to intact, from similar to differ, from near to far, from diluted to undiluted, from bloom to gloom, from connect to disconnect, from live to dead, from ordinary to extraordinary, from rise to demise, from settled to unsettled, from atouched to detouched, from transparent to nontransparent, from blossom to doom ...... and evaporate wherever in the sublime atmosphere from her menternal radar over to the infinitime?!

With Partner Moonhit Heartner

Night hides the earthen sphere

,, prods over the cosmosphere

[^!^]

== Eh, they kidded us and skidded away? Backing to her sentience by this word of Somidh, Shrota is cued to look at the images of the 2 pairs of their friends cosying up with each other, keeping a suitable distance between the pairs on the road, heading toward Abas hostel, fading out gradually in the horizon...

Somidh's soliloquiz == At this hour of night if they would fall in some danger with the girls.

(*!*)

== You don't have to think. Later if u ask them where have you slipped dodging us? You know what the 2 girls'll reply?

== What?

== They'll say we had to slip for giving you 2 the propertunity to be alone. Very clever sort. Saying this much she coughs. Though she knows very well that the girls' duo is timid.

.... Abstracted silence for some time. Because both of them haunt for an appropriate subject to talk over, but fail to get. Because they know—

Try to master the game

before the game overs

and gone all the players

Still have to say something, so Shrota breaks the jinx again => What a unique moonlight, isn't it?

== Yeah, but the lunar stones sand dust and craters don't know that the peoples on earth are mesmerized by the reflective lunar light. Even after the establishment of human colony and factories, the eternal attraction of wo/man in moon will never wane. Did you know on examining the stone of the moon it has been revealed that —

== For moon's sake, what you know about that you don't have to belch out it to me. Her menternal inchurnation — what a dry guy, in this romantis hypnotic heartmosphere when he should initiate aromantic talks of hearterrain with a girl, he is thinking about factory in moon! Shrota coughs. Silence suits here.

A brief pause

But since everyone has to say something, so Somidh rolls the ball now=> Well, after passing out the exam what you'll do?

== Of course I won't do the ungainly art film like you. Becuz there's no viewer for that type of film. Shrota coughs up.

== Not art film — say independent film. This can't be desirable that everyone makes film. Everything ain't for everybody. Leave it, what you wannabe?

== I wanna compete for administrative service exam. Shrota coughs.

== Well, my advance best wishes for that. I hope the country will get a new efficient administrator. Again the conversation crumbles for sometime. Because both of them vaguely inquiz what to talk over. Now Shrota plays forward prankish => Will you make me heroine in yr film?

== Good heavens! Just you said art film. Has no taker!

== Oh, you won't take me, just tell me that.

== Really u wanna do?

== Otherwise why should I grease you?

== You greasing me? You're just rebuking me.

== The same thing. Now say whether you're ready to engage me as the heroine.

== But we've no such déjà vu role in our film as hero or heroine. Everybody's role is equally important. Nobody is more important. Nobody is unimportant.

== I'm not to be foxed by that. I won't appear in trifle roles of maidservants or peasant's starving wife. Amused Shrota pinches Somidh in funtasy.

== You say that you won't act. So why do you say that I won't take you?

== Why should I not act if I get adequate remuneration?

== Remuneration! We've no financier. We aren't stooge of anybody. So we've no godfather to get any governmental assistance. That's why we don't have the capacity to pay the actors excepting the technicians. All actors and actresses will voluntarily donate their labor here. If you don't believe you may ask my friends.

== (Shrota as if fallen from sky) Oh mother, giving nobody a pie you'd grab the whole profit into your pocket! Shrota's perkiness.

== Do you covet my profit?

== Not at all, Shrota coughs ...

== Of course you do — but don't be afraid. How can it be profitable? You've said there'd be no spectator. May be there'll be no distributor to cater it in the market. So will the people be able to see it? Some channel might air it in the Farvision or have to think about some other alternative ways.

Shrota coughs .....

== You're coughing constantly I see. How did u catch cold?

== Might be at the car at dawn. Then you said guzzling your mahuarista elixir will reduce the inflammation in my throat, but contrarily it has shot up, Shrota's grinning response.

== Oh, now it's my elixir! So why did u guzzle?

== As u prompted so I did.

== O u will do whatever I say?

== Y-e-a- (innocently, hiding grin}.

== Well. If i ask u to dive now in the water, will u?

== Y-e-a ; of course you'd have to plunge too, else who'll save me at this deep night?

== (Somidh, aggravated) You wag in everything.

Gagging Shrota coughs more......

== Do you have any medicine with you or in your room? Now at this night we can't find a doctor here. Somidh.

== No medicine with me or with my sis in law in our room. Shrota coughs, do you have with you?

== I haven't brought it here in my pocket. But it's in my bag in the room. If u want, let's go to our room.

== If it's tablet or syrup?

== No tablet. it's homœo globules.

== Homœo globules? How the molecular grains can cure? I won't take that.

== Why not? Don't you believe in homeopathy?

== No. Becuz that's not science at all?

== Not science? I understand. But there must have been some kind of science behind the cures of the innumerable patients who are healed with this pathy. What's that? In fact in homeopathy, they treat the patient not the disease. Becuz —

== Eh Mr., again vitriolic lecturing? Will you stop please? Here I'm dying in whooping. Her laughing tickles the coughing, in the wheezing fit of which her throat chest and body twists and bends. She tries to resist the suddenton violent rage of cough by wrapping her mouth with her sari, but of no avail. The particles of her cough spread in the air and atmosphere .......... Shrota.....coughs.....................

.... Now Somidh becomes upset with Shrota: You won't take medicine. Then what should I do with you? Let's go back home, if you get comfort there. Boudi must have been anxious for you.

Shrota menternally enjoys his anguish for her but she tells just the opposite: You need not have to be concerned with me. Throwing me into the water you zip up to hotel. I won't return hostel now. as my cough will spoil everybody's sleep. The kid will wake up. So let the cough subside first. Then return. She hides her simper.

Now Somidh too chuckles: No, u're unmanageable. If you're thrown into the water, then I too have to plunge into the water at this hour of night to lift you up from the water. Sorry, I won't be able to show u so much chivalry.

.... Shrota menternally gauges Somidh => Hitting u can't be made to wake up / u might sleep / annoying u can't be infused to anger / u might burst into laughter...

....Shrota...continuously.....coughs........

== Well let me puff up yr head, if the cough recedes?

The anxiety of Somidh for her touches her. But in her throat's tension / laughter is her mentension: No sire, I have no faith on yr quacky huff and puff. She pours water on Somidh's enthu. Somidh becomes now an out of sync spectator merely!

....Shrota...constantly.....coughs........

................................................

.... The tickling cough becomes irresistible. Finding no other option she reluctantly concedes: Ok, let's go home, your quacky medicine is written in my fate tonight I see.

== Oh, why should you take quack's medicine?

== Upping yr price? Ok you needn't give me medicine.

== You're a very angry gal I see! Well, for the time being would u like cloves? If you chew it might give you a bit of relief in the throat — or you'd again say quack?

== Nope. I'd say u a very good guy. Happy?

.... Then they ink a temporary deal in — silence! Both of them are proceeding towards the Abas hostel. From far the wind importing for them from time to time the feeble sound of some distant musical soiree, that is being erased again by fresh erratic wind. On the roadside high trees abrupt twitter of night waking wild birds. The cloves comfort her a bit in the throat. But the nagging spasm clings. To divert Shrota's attention from the spasm, Somidh fabricates ghost story=> In the afternoon I heard a guy felons-de-se had hung his self down that bushy tree afar. After that it's heard every night his spirit —

== Oh, you're trying to scare me? Ghost stories you know does not frighten me? She says such but encloses herself to Somidh's body.

Somidh sniffs fun. He understands Shrota is scared. So to scare her more he adds=> When you aren't scarred, then even if I scare you why you get scarred? that's just what I heard.

== What, what you've heard —?

== No let it go. Again you'd say I'm scarring you.

== Again upping your price?

== Heard that after the suicide his unsatisfied soul hovers down that tree and—(scarred Shrota now grips one hand of Somidh). Somidh notes mutely that her cough has reduced to a great extent.

== And —?

== And breaks out the neck of whichever young girl passes down the tree.

== Why the gals only? Why not the guyz? Shrota suspicious. cautious.

== Look, what can I host to do out here for the ghost? Here your feminism won't work. As this is wholly the choice of the ghost by the ghost and for the ghost. In this case as the man hanged himself to death being unsuccessful in love, so after death his aim is to offer love to young girls and to be united with their spirits after breaking their necks. So in this case you might be his target, not me. (now Shrota grabs Somidh's waist).

== Yea, the ghost came to tell you. ganja smoker's gossips!

== You don't believe? Of course in case of a ghostess as the hostess might prefer guyz more. In that case may be I'd had fear. Besides the fine jingles of small silver bells of the 2 anklet-band noopors in your feet easily attract ghosts.

== Yeah, u know everything. I'm putting off noopoors.

== Look, what's my benefit in knowing everything? So I don't waana know everything. But a bit of what I already know —

== Whatta bit u already know? Shrota is exceedingly afraid.

== What a bit I already know so I can say this much only that u go hugging me exactly this way till crossing the tree. And the spirits will be angry if you put off your Noopoors.

== Having milking great fun kidding me, eh? You'll enjoy breaking out my neck! Well I won't depend on you any more. Shrota's voice reflects her hurt explicitly. She releases the grip on Somidh to backtrack: I won't cross beneath the tree tonight. Rather I'm about turning to the opposite side towards Pareshnath. If you gotta come you gotta come with me. If you don't, don't.

== Go as you like. But I don't wanna die now going that way. I've no such false valor.

== Reason? Shrota asks being dampened.

== Whose another name is Pareshnath?

== Might be of Siva tiva.

== Right. One meaning of the word Shiva denotes Bhuth— who has no existence. What is it called which has no existence?

== Ghost!

== Then u assume, for that reason another name of the almighty Shiva is Bhutesh or Bhutnath, who is the lord of the ghosts, right?

== Yea-s.

[Patch => Shiva is the lord of the cosmos and one of the supreme Trinity. He is the omnipotent lord of the dark and destruction. The dark that furnisheth the eternal space and the skies, which is ever reaching all pervading and is spontaneously created having no source no need of fuel and assistance.

The luminous light is temporary

but the dark is infinitum on infinitime

_.... Source: Wanderer's Wordrobes._ ]

Somidh further adds => Kularnava Tantra says >> The individual soul (jiva) is Shiva; Shiva is jiva. When in bondage, it is jiva; freed from bondage, it is Shiva. That indicates he is the lord of the bhuts or ghosts. The tandava dancer Nataraj Siva is by now dancing trance in the dark with Nandi Vringi and other ghost followers on the road of Pareshnath. Tandava dance = the eternal cosmic dance of annihilation. Of course if they get you they'll do ball dance. They'll play catching and throwing with you and dispose you into the waters breaking out the neck. Then you'd become what it makes replacing the letter 'i' with 'a' in the very word Siva....

== Replacing the letter 'i' with 'a' in the very word Siva .>> that means I'd be a sava = a corpse? Oh ffather / I won't go there / further.

Now she turns back to stick to Somidh's waistland again, as the broad way has this time becomes cul de sac for her.

I'll Suck Honey of Thy Lotus Lips

== Yes, that's like a good girl. You hug me tight so that the ghosts can't snatch you away from me. In fact they'll certainly grab if they get any single young pretty gal like u. With a man they will try to drag u surely, but if u clutch me then they won't be successful to grab u from me. Somidh now detects Shrota's nagging cough has disappeared.

== Yes, ghost is your buddy, has whispered in your ears.

.... Now blowing sound of wind navigating through the palm leaves. Somidh reproves=> not only in my ear, don't you hear their wavering on the palm leaves?—that indicates they are approaching to abduct you. **{o/||\o} {o/||\o}**

Now Shrota is fire: Amazing! Can't you clasp me tightly to prevent them snatch me?

So Somidh encircles her shoulder by his one hand and checks his laugh=> Now the spirits have no way to hijack you from me without killing me first! **[O/||\O] [0/||\0]**

.... This time Shrota being assured a little. keeping her head placed on his chest. passing by the impasse of the bushy dark ghost tree. muttering Ram Ram Durga Durga. and glancing at the tree to note the swarming fireflies' feeble dot lights surround the tree, like the handiwork of lighting decorators of Chandannagar glowing and offing recurringly >> pointing out which Somidh descripts=> Those lights seemingly of fireflies in fact are the eyes of ghosts at you from the ghostland sanctuary.

.... Treed like a mouse baked into a hot dog bun, Shrota somehow crosses the dreadsome place evading her innumerable invisible snatchers. And looks behind and the surroundings again and again. suspiciously. Covers a little more distance to recover her from fear. Her phony censure=> Ah, now release me, it is hurting. Though she internally and menternally agnizes Somidh being another more potential spirit, has surreptitiously grasped her unaware at the core in the manwhile. She doesn't really mean to be released from him. Rather desires him to wrap up her like now!

Shrota's fragrant hair now weavers mildly over Somidh's face and nose chased by the wild wind. His charmer ploy => See we haven't yet come fully out of danger. So they might be addicted by the fragrance of your hair and drag you by hair. So don't let me loose now.

== Oh u liar! But cautiously she raises her hands to fasten and coil her disheveled rustic hair that explicitly publishes her thriving breasts, inviting Somidh to jump off the barriers. He drags her face to his. Shrota fakes puzzled => Bah, the ghosts relent but the spirit doesn't!

== Why not make this spirit be your esprit as of now?

== Eh, I don't concern. She utters but cannot restrain herself being mesmerized by the fanatic manatic scent of Somidh's body. Her lips leap toward Somidh's .....

Worlden River Flows Deep & Dumb

.... Embraced they brace down to trace a special place just touching water of the river leaving the artificially lighted road. here scattered rumpled forest. moon & sprinkled stars peeping through the gaps of giant treetops. sandy stony deserted shore. maya land. swirling ornamental waves chased by mild wind. There they 2 being unclothed by inborn original aboriginal instinct—giveth up their dresses and all signs of the so called civitualization to turn to sylvan stone age Neanderthal man & woman—at least for a short time—who liveth in cave and eateth flesh of hunted bison, mammoth, rhino, bear and various beasts, probeasts and birds roasting in fire.... In fact in such a prehistoric rockumentary circumstance and place, in such idyllic, moon washed, jolly, sylvan solitary night, it is natural and normal for man and woman to roam in bare body and mind, which is only scenic and civilized—and against it all the prevalent apparently civil apparel here is abnormal & obcivic. In this protime and pretime the bank of the lake is ruled by the duo prototem man & woman—where and when there is no country.. no boundary.. no government.. no light.. no plight.. no shield.. no sword.. no modern arms & ammunitions.. no education dedication conveyance transportation.. no society rule.. no exploitation.. only sexploitation.. no regulation.. no ediction. In this vast land probably in heydays stalked monstrous lizards or dinosaurs, large mammoths, eohippus, guerilla and probeasts like , tigers, bears, lions etc. Or before that period this place was governed by the unruly waves of any ocean? Here once the open-jaw robbing sharks and robust giant whales proudly patrolled? Once roareth the gigantic mighty waves?

.... Then how gradually the ocean recedeth? And keeping long fright in breast awakes the indigent pile of stones and sand shore. Now self-satisfied scattered kash bushes / twirl in the wind constantly swings / oh how little can they know about the memory of the past pomp and glory? / thus musing diversely / in open body and mind / roaming on the side of the river in the heartmosphere / is the optimum time to receive the most wanted in life they thinketh. They are seated for sometimes drowning their feet in the water. They may not fly but they run in the wilderness spreading their arms like wings....He sees no light in the forest excepting the moon. Introxicated by mahua the sylvan girl dances au naturel.....Sometimes within her sits the primitive existence of untamed woman.

For Thy Each Part Crieth My Each Part

.... After sometimes the lovelorn uncovered & uninhibited duo discover themselves bedjusted in the escapade of a few yard of velvet grass land nearby.....embedded to conduct search & research something in each other's embodied curves and contours. and becomes totally connected to each other in loventure. by reciprocation of skintillating compression emotion & motion. Her melting mind & soul and haughty hottie naughty breasts and the sealed primeval secret mystery—that born and reborn and slept inherent and coiled like a latent snake into her pelvic cave for ages and eras—now arisen and activated by the recurring commotion and friction—inflicted by the intruded piston of flesh of her bidder—who is squeezed mercilessly to imbibe all the drops of pleasure—into her black hole manufracturing hissing scream ...... and in that inchurnation, extraction of not poison but much secretion of secret elixir—arises out in sexaltation to exhaust and empty themselves completely.....

..When in the Paleozoic moon beam |)

..Mesozoic sylvan glory thereforth

..homo sapiens brain charged with inherent

..testosterone could not be sedated

..yet stripped to the ecstatic channel

..thence the world is allocated just for the 2 only

.... In that protime they are not the prototem of any religious imaginary god and goddess, not another other first forefather and foremother either. Not at all any such important item nor primates—but just only a pair of intimating uninhibited mates of this habitual age—who in that primitive and prehistoric set of extime scenario—only cohabitated felt and extracted exquisite sensation untimely—and will again return to the regulated whirling of usual current surroundings. And the solitary jungle of trees will turn into the jungle of people and buildings rapidly..... and tomorrow in wide daylight these facts + actions + frictions = factions and thoughts will be considered as totally false, baseless, supernatural, nonreal and nonsocial.

.... Yet as of now peaking the ecstasy of the sextasy, they recede to descend...and detouch from each other as the gamestop store—back to separate entities again—absorbing assimilating & ruminating the satisfaction and pleasure hunted by the antenna of their respective body & mind—internally & menternally in their short stint sylvan abode.

(((((((((((()))))))))))

C o s m o s p h e r E 1 D e a r s p h e r E

1.13

Chapter 13: Lassefair Times

Gradient Past to Present Civilization

.The cricket's non-stop sharp chirr

.in the background

..Mild sound of flowing moonlit-diluted water

...The same moon and stars

...hide & seek through trees

...if they were man and woman

..of 100 thousand years ago

.it would not be a mismatch

.As neither any light nor any mark of civilization is visible there as of now in the dark. For the time being here is deep night. Mute earth. save the sporadic sounds emited by sylvan residents invisible in the dark. Innumerable stars. looking at them from the silent sky. and they 2 also are looking at the stars. Their unbroken peace is in lying on au naturel grass bed. They are driving their aromantic chariot through their dreamdom......

.... But soon their prehistoric session of manufactured obsession fractures >> when they notice from far away emitting a few dots of red green yellow blinking lights—a roaring plane flies and gradually fades out through the lower sky—to let them know in which part of human civitualization they are currently living. Seeing the plane across the lower horizon, Shrota recalls once in her lower school days a small plane flew past accidentally through the menacingly low altitude cutting a palm leave, which fell on their school ground at Biswapur....

== Where the plane will land, can you say? Shrota's query.

== Heading toward the east, might land at Kolkata or skip to proceed further, Somidh's proguess.

Sailing East Bank Skipeth Kolikata

.... At the same time Shrota's menternal flight drifts around the skyline of Kolkata.......Kolikata. Calcutta. Colkotta, ......Kolkata. She has eared so many vilifications so many badjectives of Kolkata......the city of nightmares, city of palaces & processions, dead city, city of joy......But to innumerable people like Shrota, Kolkata is the city of dream. There she roamed so many times with parents, friends and with or without Songket alone in some rhyme or reason and visited the places of interest. In which megapolis she will go for higher education after passing out the grad grade. That olden yet ever golden young Kolkata—in the city night theques and discotheques is now bubbling fizz of young night.... On the streets apparently rare vehicles and guards....so many thieves mafias horrorists and swindlers engaged in their misdeeds......So many people are resting in sleep or awake after the whole day labor......in the port and river dockyard ships and boats are pausing.....So many young couples are wooing & cooing in the hot bed engaged in kamsutra.

.... Shrota premembers one night she was returning in Songket's car after the fun & funtasy at a nightclub. Barring the bubbling area of the theques, the expressive and silent lights flooded the whole city. Her eyes were searching the busy millions of people of the day. where they gone? Where gone humming bee school kids? Where gone the binder shopkeeper buyer belles & beaus? Where gone the commuter patient doc nurses? Makers dancers singers teachers, parasites, jokers, sycophants, kings & queens, workers, proprietors, professionals, entrepreneurs, traders, quacks, bluffers, ministers, leaders, sailors, ground full of people, servants, judges, cooks, writers, readers, magicians, travelers... and more whose names and professions aren't known where gone they all? Then that city was like a humanless planet where the sunny rays dazzle but there's none to look at it. Only the motionless mountstones ditches caves remaining like immovable statues for countless light years. Likewise in that deep night when excepting some scavengers all the commoners had entered in their homes as the ants into their holes, the city was shining with light as statues in a lone planet.

.... That time Shrota premembered the play of statue in their childhood. When they called any mate in school: Statue! that very moment s/he had to stand there motionless like a statue. Thus she had to comply to stand like a statue in other's command, and she had made others to remain as statue for a few minutes. That night after a long time Shrota was engrossed by the child-play:

Buildings beside the road

She said: Statue!

Buildings became motionless statues.

Gizmo cars on the road

She said: Statue!

The cars red signaled to become motionless statues.

Statues at the corner of the road

She said: Statue!

The statues remained motionless statues.

Cop at the juncture of the road

She said: Statue!

The cop became motionless statue.

Trees beside the road

She said: Statue!

The trees remained motionless statues.

Lampposts on the road

She said: Statue!

The lampposts remained motionless statues.

.... Thus being stuffocated by various tight stuffy rules regulations customs and etiquettes and partiquettes, the civitual pathways transportations.. claws of laws.. supply.. systems.. judiciary.. post.. communications.. health.. flows ..canals.. channels.. landmark buildings.. fondness.. home for destitutes.. zoo.. gardens.. parks .. fruitile trees flowers beasts & birds.. rituals.. punctual practices & punctilio principles.. administration.. school college structure and infrastructure.. court & offices.. sports & games .. drama .. music .. culture .. super structure suprastructure intrastructure and infrastructure ....... turned into déjà vu prevalent static motionless immovable steelhearted feelingless stony mute statues in front of her eyes slowly and gradually.........

.... Otherwise, amazing! Songket—that buddy from Biswapur — he also turned into a heartless static statue swallowing the water of Kolkata! But when he could not play with his broken leg, she stood beside him to share his agonies with him at Biswapur. Shrota has encouraged him toujours. behind his coming to Kolkata. to get his leg operated by renowned surgeon. behind his getting chance to play soccer for premier club. And today Songket getting huge fast bucks playing for big club wants to void avoid & devoid her! So she doesn't want to see the face of such an ungrateful fellow! Otherwise could she give her body and soul in such at ease in momentary weakness to an almost unknown guy like Somidh?

.... Though she still is ruminating the sexalting bliss in her body and soul getting atouched with Somidh, yet she is skeptic as to what she has done! Has she done right as of Somidh's indulgence? Was she not a nonbeliever of bodily fornication without love? She slaps herself charge sheeted for her own work. In fact that moment that primeval circumstance was so overpowering—that nobuddy—may s/he be saint or yogi—it would not be possible for anybody to evade the timely pervading demand of body and soul by overlapping with social perceptions of negation. Somidh is nicknamed by them as Gandhi and slippery pankal fish—who is not to be caught, but could he escape this happening? And if they both or any one of them could repress him/herself to skirt this situation, then is there such surety that after that, throughout the life, wouldn't s/he have to repent for that s/he has squandered such an unique au naturel propertunity in sheer foolishness? And why should she devoid of this happening? Sonket didn't wait for her. So why should she care for him? Therefore why should she brood over it and spill the beans to spoil the feel good satisfaction of this once in a lifetime fulfillment? As—

Leaves fallen can go back to the root

cannot go back to the branches left

Receding in Low Tides

.... But her contentment is terminated when she feels there is some rough uncanny breath sniffing over her face and 2 glaring eyes minutely watching her => Oh father it's a ghost! Muttering she hides her face in Somidh's wide chest. Somidh returns to his surroundings from his menternal world. He notices that a dog stands in the dark near her head. The dog reckons him. He also preckons the dog. This is the wounded dog, which was fed by him in the morning in the teashop. And at Abas hostel too the leftover scrap of food in plate after each meal is reserved for this dog. Somidh winks the dog away to assure her and asks => It's late night, won't you return to Abas now? Everybody might be thinking us.

.... Shrota is alarmed. She jumps up quickly. Dressing up they walk toward the hotel. Silently. Being absorbed. Because they know very well that later the moment in daylight it might be viewed as blasé. May be later on it might be explicit that the spur of the moment was a sexplicit faux pas. But they mull is it? That moment there was no greater truth than that faux pas — will which not enkindle them with sexhilarating flick of joy at times in later life, wherever they might stay leaving apart from each other!

Shrota paces up from a little behind to catch up Somidh's hand => Hei Spirit—no no my Esprit, go a bit slow. What are u musing about so much?

== Thinking, which happened all on a sudden from what! Should it have happened? This will flash back in mind for whole life wherever I ive.

== I will remember it too. It can't be forgotten even if I want to. Amazing! We didn't even know each other properly yet it seemed we are known to each other forever! ... Menternally she dips deeper in muse...

Unknown at first

United in midrhyme

Varied at last

== So I waz contemplating—

== What?

== If we could include this sequence of primeval man & woman in the script then how is it?

== Oh just say that! I'm only a character of your scenario? Just a sequence!? Not more than that? Shrota is silent.

== Oh not only a sequence surely. But is there any harm if we try to depict this intimate moment to share it with many more people thru depicturization?

== No harm. Joy gets bigger and bigger the more and more if it can be pumped into more and more people. Here snobbery of false morality and wounded nagging dog of censor tagged as savage obscenity will gag you. As >>>

Acting savage is no savage

only telling it is s-o savage!

Real sex act is a natural scene

only telling it is obsin!

== Strange! Not in any other country—how Batsayan could compose Kamsutra here so many years ago! And how else could the ancient sculptors of this country sculpt Khhajuraho, Konark?

== More over you won't get actors to depict these 2 roles of primeval man & woman. Because would you yourself like to act in this role of the man?

== No because I'm the scriptwriter and director. May be the music part also I'll have to look after. Over and above these acting is impossible for me. But you wanna be actress?

== Gonna mad? Acting not my cuppa tea. I've never acted in my life nor have I any mentension to do so. I waz just kidding you.

Trick & Treat in Retreat

.... Enter in the hostel. the soft blue nightlight is on in Shrotas' room. but Somidhs' dorm is dark. Somidh calls => come to our room first to have your med for cough. Consult a physician in the morn.

So long the coughing was intracepted to be forgotten. But hearing about the cough her throat tickles with cough. She tries utmost to repress it. Because by the sound of cough will wake up the big sister in law and the kid. Somidh notices the door of the dorm isn't locked from inside. That indicates Protits have returned and slept. he pushes the door. opens it. both enter. blindense dark room. Somidh switches on the light. Then and there suddenton voices of 2 pairs of male & female from above the bunks on 2 sides of the wall oracle => Switch off at once, quick! Puzzled Shrota and Somidh as if foot found in brain, watch 4 stark stripped aromantic bodies / attached to 2 beds fixed like shelf on the wall / cosying up atouched to each other like bats in pitch dark erotica.!

Somidh promptly turns off the light to warn => Make haste. The 4 begin to dress up hastily.

While Shrota prickles to pickle => Dodging us there you eject up here to do this, eh? Who said it > > dark deeds are better done in the dark?

Lipi's handy reply: What can be done, to give u 2 the propertunity to be alone we've to retreat here.

Shrota reminds Somidh => You just tally her statement with which I mentioned you earlier, as to what they will respond!

Now Swaha's pushback => Aha, in this moonlit night beside the embankment what u 2 were doing so long then? Reading gospel of thomas or the Tripitak?

== That u won't understand—the intro notes on the homoeopathic role in the diagnosis of chronic diseases of the mankind! Shrota explains with fake gravity.

Laughing out loud

.... Everybody relishes the remark.

== Is it for nothing that Chityada calls Somidhda as Gandhi? Such an exclusive beautiful night u've wasted in the wackness! Comments Sarol and switches on the light. Shrota + Somidh grin surreptitiously. Shrota's faux lament: If there's hole in the fate what can be done? The spare spirit you doled me out is really the esprit of an elusive pankal fish. blunt. has no sense of good humor. doesn't understand anything other than art or drama!

Everyone blames Somidh => You're just nonchalant good for nothing!

Somidh only reacts this much => You may call me whatever u like. But I'm not to accept any tag that you label on me.

.... Then he attempts to administer a few globules of medicine in Shrota's mouth when Shrota paws the little file of med from his hand to reflect =>: How can these few grainy globules cure my disease? until & unless all the globules are tried at one go?

== Hey, what u're doin'? It will harm if u take all the globules at a time!

Shrota skips his words => Well goodnight! See u tomorrow. The giggling girls shift to their room to own their girlish times.

Reclining Times

.... Girlie Runs Girlish Times. The big sister in law aka Boudi has been awake. She unlatches the door. Interrogates nobody nothing. No doubtlook but her goodie outlook is>> in this age all girls are scheduled on the merry go round way. That maketh not the Ramayan unsacred. But as the light is on in their entry into the room, Ulki wakes up. Rising up the kid is surprised => oh mom the aunties returning so late night? (hinting at the wall clock) clocking at half past two! I'll go to bathroom.

Her mom lights the bathroom: you'll go alone or should I stand there?

== No alone I'll go. You needn't stand for me. If you stand would I not be ashamed? I'm grown up. Anybody has to stand in bathroom for the aunties?

== Aunties are grown up. So they don't require.

== I'm also grown up. Know my age? F-i-v-e.

Everybody chortles to relish her words.

== Yes, you have become a ripe old granny. Ok. Now do quickly. I'll off the light. You 3 change your dress fast and lie down...

.... Near the dressing table mirror while putting off their wristwatch hairpin ribbon and other tit bits for beautification, and wearing peignoir, the other 2 notice Shrota isn't wearing anything in her hand and ear. So they cross her in low tone: Shrotadi where gone yr watch bangle earring? Lost?

== No, put off in my wallet.

== What for?

== In the dark of night who is there to look at the ornaments?

== Why the pankal fish?

== He is humorless & dry. His head is churning with reel life art only not real life.

== Wretched! We feel sorry for you.

== Look don't sprinkle sympathy. I can tolerate everything except that.

== Understand. But your facial? Lip stick, bindi of forehead, hair styles before going we done your make up so minutely, where all those vanished? Bindas! Foxing us?

Fumbling a bit Shrota ripostes=> washed in water.

== How?

== Because of little tension in facial skin. Felt uneasy. So washed it. Besides remaining natural is also a style.

== Where did u get water there on the road? That indicates you went down to river?

== That means you 2 went to the water of the river and were reading there homeopathy in the moonbeam. You're reading us this?

== Or you're catching pankal fish in the river? Where gone the noopoors of yr feet? Then Miss Happener, what more did you happen there? The real player. Up to how far you 2 did go down?

== Up to the face??

== Up to the chest???

== Or up to the happiness????

.... Shrota retreats a bit cornered with their combo carpet-bombing of cross questionnaire and meaningful laugh of disbelief. But she somehow tacitly cooks up => no not only homoeopathy. A newtopian. Moonbeam hath fallen hither in the river. Whence analyzing the stones and cookies of the moon it is to be derived that thither remaineth no spice to be aromantic—rather factories canst be starteth thither.

.... Their humor of unending hysteric girlic belly laughter and low tone humming and foaming on this topic draws Ulki beside them who now inspects => Whom you're laughing at hush-hush?

== That you won't understand. Go to sleep.

== Did I not know?

== What do you know?

== You're laughing on yr boy friends. I've s-e-e-n you returning from bathing in the river at the daytime. With them you're l-a-u-g-h-i-n-g. Ulki discloses their boylinks.

== With them means who?

== The uncles who have boarded in the adjoining room. Your boyfriendz?

== If so what?

== Nothin'. But I too have many boyfriendz.

== Wow! Many? Where are they? Everybody is amused over Ulki's talks.

== In the school. In our class.

== Really? their names?

== Udak, Tarpan, Saubor, Bimit, Mohak...

== Bah, wonderful names.

== There're more. But they're my best friends. among them—

== Among them?

== Udak was my first friend. But now I don't talk to him, Ulki now seems a bit emotional.

== Why no talking terms? They ask while changing their garments.

== Becuz he's been naughty, Madam has said.

== Why is he naughty?

== He ate chocolate taking out of Prarthona's pocket. Wrapping a chip of brick in the foil, kept back in her pocket. Prarthona been befooled to eat the chocolate—hi hi hi—everybody in the class has jeered a lot. So Madam has rebuked Udak and said nobody to make friend with this naughty boy.

== For that reason you also don't talk to him.

== No particularly not for that only.

== Then?

== Then you come to sleep now. Don't chatter more. Whenever her sleep breaks at night she'd wake up with the wide eyes. Hey you 3 lie down putting the bright light off and the dim light on. Boudi orders. So they lie down in their beds. The white light off. The blue light on.

== I'm not sleepy now. I'd like to read now. Otherwise I won't be able to stand first to beat him.

== Oh, we realize. For this reason you don't talk to him?

== Yes. Just see he made me second to be the first himself. I wanna read now. Ulki rises up puts on the light and wants to read. She likes to show everybody that she is so attentive in reading and so much a good girl. Her mom drags her to lie down and pats on her back to make her sleep.

== I don't feel sleepy, mom. You have made me to sleep since evening, not taken me outside for a stroll, for your boyfriend hasn't come today, is it not so mom? Ulki bombards.

Everybody is perplexed in her words: Your mom has boyfriend? Who? Your mom has totally suppressed the fact from us.

== Why, isn't dad mom's boyfriend?

== Everybody guffaws at this word. Her mother also rolls in laughter => Precocious kid! Sleep at once.

Others justify => Ah, she's no fault. Rightly said.

.... Ulki's more bouncers => well mom, u have boyfriend, you have kid, it's me. The aunties too have boyfriendz, why they have no kid?

This question dazes everybody in uneasiness for sometime. Then her mom rescues all others => The aunties are not yet much grown up. When they'll be more grown up, they will have. Now sleep at once.

== Aunties will have when more grown up? Ok why the aunties will have kids? Why their boyfriends won't have? Everybody is dumb. At first nobody has the suitable reply. Her mom grudges=> Now you'll be slapped. only prattling on. Non-stop. Sleep at once.

She U turns Ulki and pats her back more and more to let her sleep fearing that she doesn't poise for more uneasy questions. But fate can't be forgotten. Ulki's again ultimate ultramatum=> tell me why the boy friends will not have kids, only the girlfriends'll have?

.... Her mom enrages to beat her. Now Shrota salvages. takes charge of her=> Ah, don't beat her. It's normal for the children to have so many queries. Ok, I'm answering you. Well will you be able to understand and answer if I ask you any question from the topics of the highest class of your school?

== Now I won't be able. I'll be able when grown up.

== Just like that the answer of the question you made now will be taught when you're at the higher classes in school. Ok?

== Yes.

== And yr mom's boyfriend is coming tomorrow morning. He will drive all of us to so many places. whole day enjoyment. full of fun and frolic. he has promised you a Barbie doll?

== Sure—

== So if you don't sleep now, then we'll be late to wake up in the morning. and all of us including you will miss the tour. you want that happen?

== Na. Then I'm sleeping right now. The sleep signaling Ulki's illegible mutter still continues=> D-a-d's become n-a-u-g-h-t-y like Udak—I'll rebuke him tomorrow—mom u too chide your b-o-y-f-r-i-e-n-d fervently—dropping the office couldn't he come today f-o-r m-e?

Sleep The Chimp

.... From the Wanderer's Wordrobes it is recovered in the aforesaid times too the humans—the distant relatives of chimpanzees required sound sleep. For nonailing person 6-8 hours of sound sleep was considered necessary for normal health generally. The sleeping person some times looked like helpless and some times looked like their primitive relatives sleeping chimpanzees. Some could sleep even standing like horses while some could sleepwalk.

.... There were huge number of peoples who spent sleepless nights that time. Due to worries, excess wealth, unfair purposes, illness, pains & pangs, naked lights, unruly rude sounds, heartbreak, longing for mates, and lured by sleep-thieves, peoples often missed sleep. One could have get sleep using chloral hydrate, barbiturate, bromide etc &c tension-easing hypnotic drugs. But in that age mostly circulated and much hyped populist sure-day-sleep formula tablets were Bat tala & neo Bat tala oriented parasitic innumerable novels and soapera serialz and spice filmz. Yet without or with the badvice or advice of good physicians these tablets drugged many people. Regarding this a story wast that, after examining a patient an amusing doctor prescribeth his wife=> your husband now needs complete rest and peace. So I'm giving these sleeping pills.

Wife => When and how many pills to nosh him?

Doc=> Gosh! not to nosh him but for yourself to pop.

.... Glow these times. Flow these times. Go these times

(((((((((((()))))))))))

C o s m o s p h e r E 1 D e a r s p h e r E

1.14
Chapter 14: Contension Times

So Many Words Left Untold

Crow caws entuned

by utter moon beam )

Escaping that argot some sleep

Some hear but can't decode

Boggling so many words left untold

That might be different night another lingo

Dulcet times too ear

in own tongue no woo & coo

Fumbling so many words left untold

Wee sleep trips in another ranting jargon

Fluttering garrulous sparrows

swirl twirl and skip

Oh only they themselves infer

the treaty of twerp they confer

Life's scraps couldn't be booted unfold

Wavering so many words left untold

.... The chirping of birds daybreak wakes up Somidh. The toil of plodding last few days has jaded them. Limbs need rest. Feel at ease is this acedia. This floating on wreckless slapdash muse reclines.

By that time embedded Sarol eyes at first through glass panes the river on one side. while the backgrounds on the other side still ^^^^ hill. slight chill feel like the first day of winter. easing pleasing climate. energetic fresh rays of sundom @ random. chat room of chirrup birds. musing of aromantic dreamagination of yesternight's erotica. glow of grin on his face.

Protit intracepts: Whom do you recall? grinning alone? Lipi? Whatever, get up. quick. Forgotten itinerary to Khoridoongri in the morning?

.... What is the most punishing work in the world? Sarol's propinion is to wake up & get up in the morning. Actually how little time has he gotta sleep last night + strain of bepained feet in marathon erratica + footsore & abrasion caused for wearing new shoes = altogether a chaotic hang over. Still to rise up as prompted. To be prepared in quick time to go out. Of course in the desolate place none to critique them. So, in night's sleepwear they are outbound.

Chalked Muddy Meadowy Pathway

.... Way to Khoridoongri, the chalk hammock. again dizzy shops. guesthouse. lock gate of barrage. crossing the bridge on the harsh somber river. not very far away. might be 1 kilometer. The place they're staying since yesterday seems now to them a bit drab & dull in comparison to yesterday. Down the pitched road is wet paddy field. Muddy dividing pathways subdivide it. Cul de sac. mud smeared buffalo in pasture. grazing. cowboy. wet dew drops. wet narrow divider footway. wet paddy field. water in paddy field. free game of wriggling fishes swarming in the water. writhing non-venomous watery snakes. They have to walk a little extra to find out the directions toward the exact walkway.

.... In the background of paddy field the greedy eye of the camera gleams. 3 walksters framed. click. piles of raw white chalk down the hammock. to be transported to chalk factory. Sarol remembers the chemical name of chalk Calcium carbonate. CaCO3. sitting on the heap of chalks. click. at the slope of hammock near the village hut a simpleton lass. click. Sarol poses in the role of a starving farmer with axe in shoulder. click. cutting chalks from the hillock holed it like a cave. dark inside as in the interior of Debgiri fort or Ellora Ajanta caves. click. atop chalk hammock Sarol acting meditating Buddha. click.

(~!~)

Sarol and Protit rehearse here once more the scene of fight in their ensuing production.

Click

My Waitage Is For Everyone

.... Meanwhile Somidh ropes in his vade mecum for this prospective spot of location, sitting on the torn rope-cot in front of the hut. Scripting it takes a little time. Breakfast time after returning from here is about to be over. They took no food in the morning. Hungry bon vivant Sarol impatiently utters bitter doubtlook=> What's the use of writing these trash anymore? Public won't eat these yours art film theatre writings sightings. Of course it will incur sales—tho not tickets, but yours house land and jewelry. Only few beau monde or meantellectual groups might eat this artitude.

Somidh has finished his notes for the time being. He bags the pen and notes while returning and examines Sarol's vitriolic speech in aplomb temperate voice => Only beau monde group of people shall eat?

Sarol => Yea of course.

== Group? Which isn't group? family is a family group. group too is group. a party is a group. people are a group of humans. wo/man is of human group. solarsphere is a group of constellations. so everywhere anywhere manywhere and manywhen everything everybody has to stay in-group. u and I too. somewhere big group. sometimes medium group. somewhen small group. somethen smaller group. Yes, somebuddy might claim s/he is in a big group and other one might be in a small group—but group—nobloody is outside of it—you ain't a yogi—and me too not a thief.

== But all your idiosyncratic experiments on art are the flop shows of foreign influence.

== Right you are. Really we're unable to ape as we've no need to mimic. Because of our everquest for originalism. There might be or in fact remains coincidental, partial or impartial similarity between somebody with somebuddy between anyone with manyone. Isn't eye similar to eye, hand similar to hand? It exists parallel because all humans are Homo sapiens—that can't be called as imitation. As again there is dissimilarity in each & every case. In fact imitation is called those which have no originality—who in any field—actively and constantly or inconsistently follow the déjà vu impassive cul de sac way of that field. yet claim that same plagiarized imported goods filled in new bottle, new label and new file as their own creation—only to establish themselves as emulators in their respective spheres. And the easiest way to be established which is the most essential than even to be efficient & proficient in their own field—is to fulfill the blasé precondition of greasing the powerful heads of the fields of the respective institutions with clever sycophancy and various forms of bribery. Thus stay tuned to turn and ape themselves as their pet slaves.

== But whatever u say your awkward experimentations are meaningless.

== Each and every experiment—if that is really an experiment—and not merely an imported imitated replication of a déjà vu well established truth in the name of experiment—must have to be unique awkward or undone previously—and not done in the past. Otherwise that's not experiment—but merely a ghost of a previously arrived at decision or proposition. Camus once said that any great work or great thought begins with peculiarity. So if what are great can be peculiar, then what fault is it to be peculiar for us, who do nothing great? In fact afterwards in some cases new ways gradually emerge out of those past experiments—which when gradually culminated then again it necessitates to break through new exceptional experiments to overtake the established ones.

To overcome humdrum expression

I opt for exception

Likewise, is it not normal that the usual formation and deformation that goes on in the world always?

== But why can't you understand that your works are not to be acknowledged by the people?

== Kafka advised to start—not with that which might be recognized—but with that which is correct. So who will take or not—that is the etude of that who or whom who will take or not. But there in no way, have we/ us/ any artist/ writer/ director, anything to do with that. Then only this much to be done— which can be done or deem to be done should be attempted to be done, in the best possible way. That's the action.

The longitude and latitude

of the viewer or reader is their attitude

where the artist or writer can't intrude

== Then your work is for whom? Mustn't be for all?

== Why so? Any market shop drama exhibition book picture music is made for all. but it can't reach all. where it reaches there too some see it some don't. some buy it some don't. some value it some don't. some understand it some don't. yet nobody is barred to see. to hear. to read. to perceive. for that one is to shell out some kind of price.

Without worthing out something

one can't get worthy anything

..That worth price may be money, may be his/her energy, menergy or womenergy, may be interest, may be enthu—whatever or however may be. May be few people wanna pay the worth. so few people get that worthy something. Give or not to give, want or not to want, get or not to get, are the exclusive choice of the hearer reader viewer. But

My work today or tomorrow

shall be open day-n-night

for anyone × manyone

ever in joy or sorrow

Let hoi polloi

love discard despise

my works are for all

class and mass

wise and unwise

== You're saying for all but all your thoughts and perceptions will be usable to people for what purpose?

== Which art is useable by all people?

== The arts which are prevailing in the bazaar? That'll prevail.

== Well, well. That means art of the bazaar or bazaar of art?

== Yea. Exactly.

== Well. The merchandized art literature & culture are usable by people in which work?

== Useable in which w-o-r-k? That means usable for entertainment.

== Well, well. Today public entertainment is mainly rented:

As entertainment is rented antic

in the rentertainment mart

to be popular it demands to be

more or less melodramatic

So it is implied what you mean to say is that the prevalent type of entertaining art literature & culture, which are prevailing in the bazaar, willllll prevail for good. And people will eat that stuff and willlllllll eat forever? Is it so?

== Yes, exactly that so.

== How exactly so?

== Why not?

== Now you're wearing this pant shirt, in that case should you not have worn dhoti fatua of the past century? So is it not a hyperbole to factasize what's going on that shall go on forever?

== Bah, art cult & lit and dress code are the same?

== Not same. Ok. Then before coming here which movie did you watch in Kolkata?

== Sextravaganza of Love. Hectic fighting, pictitious. Besides there is funtasy. love. sextasy. songs and dance trance. enjoyable picture. Bindas.

== Well, but why didn't you see Sabitri Satyaban, Kamale Kaamini, Mohisashur Bodh like operas instead of seeing Sextravaganza of Love?

== Bah, this type of quaint opera doesn't run nowadays so that anybody can see.

== So you see anything that went on in the past doesn't go on today or will not go on forever. Because the spectator reader hearers do not eat the same bazaarised commodity for a long time. Again experimentations and observations go on in every arena. We live everyday expecting something new & new regularly.

New should mean creation

not re-creation, remake or replication

Exactly which was not there

has been inducted currently original

may be in science art or literature

The scientist, actor, writer, painter, sculptor and artistes should master it. One cannot reinvent the wheel. And what was or is there if that is manufractured again— that is called copy, imitation, emulation, adaptation, duplication, replication—but not at all creation. Even when the nature makes the same kind or species of creatures and wo/man, then also creates it with inherent distinctions and differences.

== Then you don't wanna put any importance on what is brisk selling like hot dogs?

== Oh, did I say that? I will give importance on it as a sellable recreational commodity, as a tearjerker funtertainment, as a trade and commerce, as a bread earning amusement indeed. In practice it happens very rarely, that a piece of really exceptional art, yet that has been properly evaluated, adequately accredited, honored, rewarded and awarded everywhere + at the same time marketed and sold out everywhere and has been adored by peoples in huge numbers >> which is the sole & solemn desire of each and every kind of artist! But it seems that is almost implausible dry ice — tho there is exception. Here we should bear in mind the bestseller doesn't necessarily mean the best creation or the best creation doesn't necessarily mean bestseller — as this doesn't occur often — tho there is exception. Again the highest awarded doesn't necessarily mean the best art, or the most neglected or discarded doesn't necessarily mean the worst art — tho there is exception. On the contrary once neglected often becomes adored in later times. To remember Ben Franklin who once said—some people are weatherwise and some people are otherwise. So where is the propertunity to oppose each other side? Any main stream art will have to manufacture the pieces conditioning itself with the prevailing demand of the bazaar for its sale — but if that will be translated into sales or if that will peak up the box office or be fruitfully auctioned, there is heavy uncertainty.

== Any offbeat art will have to go to the bazaar for sell.

== Yes. But it may not have the urge to manufracture and modify itself obeying the dominant demand of the market.

Sarol dismisses Somidh's rhyme and raison de etre => Still the popular film, song, books hook and sell much more than yours those inaccessible art flirt poetry foetry film tilms.

== Correct. Imitations by copycats will always sell much more in numbers than any original work. Because those are cheap recreations—not creations. There goes the saying—

Live ordinarily to recreate

Secrete extraordinarily to create

.... Generally that happens temporarily or contemptporarily / so many examples can be cited summarily. During the whole life time of Vincent van Gough only 1 work by him was sold—when many of his contemporary artists were sold many more — but after his demise and still after many years even today his paintings are sold at very high prices — and will be sold also after many years — when apart from the works of just a few creative artists of his times all other well-sold artists of that time has been faded into oblivion. But in all ages this total number of this lesser numbers might ultimately outnumber the readers of the best sellers that illuminated the list of that time.

== That means you wanna say that you and Van Gough are equal? Sorol's desperate coup de main.

.... Somidh sniffs impatient Sarol getting irritated for his fierce arrows of vitriolic argument being foiled repeatedly. So Somidh in aplomb grins to dilute the matter a little in jue d'espirit: You have a little chin beard, again a big billy goat has also beard — then you and billy goat are the same? On the contrary here the beard subject matter only is the same. But the body, nature, place, time, character all are different. Again you have beard, Lincoln had, Madhusudan had too — does that indicate that you and all of them with beard are equal? Only the subject beard is common, all other things are different. Just like only the subject > experimentation of the all kind of non-prevalent non-mainstream independent art < is common with us—but the types, forms, styles, times, place and characters are altogether different, variant, idiosyncratic and independent. Only they are the creativity-oriented workers on the attitude and artitude and etude — we too are. But some among them have been able to acquire a memorable platform in their respective art form that we could not. That is our inability. As in the ocean of art only floating nowhere is certain, but to reach any shore or at the targeted point is almost uncertain. And there can reach only very few and very rare really creative artists.

== Thus once Flaubert remarked. Protit adds.

== Yes. But this is still relevant those Flaubert's words —...We are no longer on the same road, you and I. We do not sail in the same boat. May God lead each of us where each of us wants to go—you to a safe harbour, I to the open sea...

Somidh pauses to add slowly =>

In art you have 2 basic options:

Be content with the usual accidental art

or create the original consequential art

Most people like Maxime du Camp are content with the first option. Real artists like Flaubert opts for the second. And this is the irony of fate that Maxime du Camp, who had wanted to reach the safe harbor with the then favorable wind, in the verdict of times the harbor didn't remain safe, otherwise we need not have to hear him reading Flaubert, rather just the reverse would have happened.

.... Sarol assumes the matter is turning to be boomerang. His choicest arrows of words shot at Somidh rebounding toward himself brandishing horns of big billy goat. So selfurious now he searches in selfortification for more powerful sure shot ==> to hit Somidh fro his wordrobe => You are influencing us with your all these oddish ludicrous derisory opinions. But we don't wanna be influenced by you.

Somidh remarks =>

S/he who fears reason

springing hood bites poison

What do u mean by the word 'us'? Is it the nom de plume for bragging your self? For 'we' signify you + who & which? I do hereby pray for let their soul, masked under the fraternity of this 'who or whoever', resteth in peace. Who art the big bro camouflaged behind this brethren? Who art tactricking behind the scene? As a loyal stooge of which ape-army are you gaping? Whatever may be, why those 'I -we- who or -whoever- he -or whichever' enemy disguised as friend or frenemy remaining behind the mask? Lift up the mask. Let's see thy fantastic moontastic face. Well friends, did I invite those 'I + we + who + whoever + he \+ whichever' that >>> come along guys come unto me, get influenced by me? If I didn't call/ ask them, then they have become influenced out of thy own accord — if that is true — he/they/thee art dipped into thy own dug out water — their own problem manufractered by themselves. They may stay with me in our team if they wish—or they may quit the team if they anguish or unwish. If anybody wants to be influenced (which is his/her inability) then only s/he can be influenced (which is the ability of the influencer). It is damn easy to blame others + to envy others without making amends for the inadequacy of anybody's own self—without making one self able, without seeing one's own fault. Confucius used to say — what the gentle searches finds within him. What the commoners search remain in others. Thereforth my question is that why thou wanteth to find the solutions of thy problems not within thyself—but in me and play blame game and give me venom?

Take no venom give no venom

take no blame find no blame

In reality where there art light there must be shadow. But where there hast no light there art all dark shadow. The dark needed not be called for— it's like omniscient all pervading spontaneous dark energy. So—

I Don't Hinder

May it be lunar or earthy shadow

S/he who leads the way towards light

shades light of others wittingly or unwittingly

As hirise jungles of architexture stun the sun

in the haughty areas of New York town

In the vacuum of something deficient

enters the influence of the fluent

Yet some seeketh not to be shadowed

But the nature of shadow is to cloud others

There the way out is >>>

1. Sheltering into cell, seal all holes

to thwart the outsider shadow to enter

to remain inside the shadow of walls

If it is covert no problem

If overt then >

2. To be uninfluenced

the prospect is to exalt ownself

But the aura of exaltation

shadows others again—it is proven

Go toward light shadow will heed you

Go against light shadow will lead you

So I don't groan

The earthen world is my open hearthen house|

For free sky water air light & shade it is ajar

blocking window door wall I don't hinder

(((((((((((()))))))))))

C o s m o s p h e r E 1 D e a r s p h e r E

1.15

Chapter 15: Diversion Times

Transturn Around Diversion

.... Cut to 4:30 afternoon. As agreed the trio walks to the confluence. to catch hold of Chatur and Subol. They are overjoyed: It would be great fun.

== Brought that?

== Yes babu pure for sure.

.... 13 year old Kochi, the assistant of Subols, sitting beside the river is finishing his only one meal for the whole day and night. Red coarse rice with gruel. + Salt. The sign of cooking, burning wood left aside. Black coat in burned brick. Burned carbon. Covert fire embedded in the ashes. Empty earthen bowl of rice. Chatur & Subol's ferrying work not yet finished. So it is decided that not in Jaadu's theque on this side, rather if they refer, the babus can stay in the Sarengorh forest dept's 2 small houses on the other side of the river. And meal? They will also arrange that. Accordingly they ferry the babus to the other side. The 2 houses are visible no doubt. But can the babus to be asked to cross the stony hurdles of uneven terrain beside the river? For them there is even walkway. Decided that the babus will walk along the pathway diversion to reach the rest house. Refer Chaturs' names. everything will be arranged. And the later program to be decided after the close of ferry in the evening.

.... As per plan the babus advance thru the diversion. After covering a formidable distance the trio walksters are tired. They understand that they have come on the wrong road. Sarol is fagged. And mute out of fear. Query few passers by about the address. But nobody is aware. One man rapidly passes by pushing a bicycle heavy with a goat tied in the carrier. To sacrifice the goat in a godhouse. He replies: I'm in haste, if I'm late, my pledge to god will breach. And he disappears quickly in the stony tract.

They are amazed to ponder that hurried misappearance for beheading a goat!

The goat is cool.

Is it cool because it's a goat?

Or because of it's cool it is a goat!

....A vegetable like sour okra is cultivated here in a tract. tall like jute stalks. among their gap is visible a hut. they appear there. 1 black complexioned man wearing a napkin only. piling rounds of clay. for building a mud house. superbly aplomb. seeing them his silence. his mute work. doing rounds of clay piling. Sarol asks for water. after 2 times of repetition water is given. in a glazing brass pot. sweet drinking water. their drinking. sprinkling water in the face. their spirits up. Sarol's voice livens up drinking water. and finding the tracer. Earlier when they distraced the way he did ask Somidh => Now what will you do?

.... However the man's road map for them. that too as if with great composure. actually they are repose by nature. may be blasé seeing and facing much hurdles. click tick. taking of picture & descripture. noticing on both side of the tracer's dotted road, rows of planted, implanted, and transplanted, cultured trees and garden of fruits and flowers. not very well maintained, Somidh's monologue=> These aren't sylvan trees, these 're planted. That indicates we've reached the arena of forest dept surely. the guess is correct as it appears. the terrain is to some extent up in level. and in the visible horizon watercolor allwhere. riverian lake. not a sea but to see the sea they see. associates are the newbie society of meditating trees. click tick. taking of picture & descripture. their trudge now fruitile guessing the right direction. after a little more plod a house is discovered. the windows ajar. doors locked. a look thru the window revealize the visible inside chiaroscuro. lungi vests male garments in a hanging rope. on the wall calendar funtastic star siren cavorting. bandaged bed rolled on floor mat. the mat coated in light red dust. a pair of shoes also coated in red dust. a pitcher

||  
( )

dust-painted. scrap of papers. burned bidi butts .....et al. Everything coated with red dust layer. Observing the layer of dust it seems no man hath cometh hither for the past some times. And as they advance more the signboard of Sarengorh Reserve Forest gets visible. In front of the gate appears Adhir Sardar—theirs wanted man. he's not a jumbo man like a leader. he has no roar. no soar. no pride. no glaze. just one 18/19 year old darkish lad in khaki sorts. simpleton. coy boy. curly haired. son of the soil. no sign of superiority in his behavior. Adhir opens the rooms. then there are no amenities for the guests. only the lavish water and air in the confluence of the Kaasai and Kumari rivers in detail. and a tube well. now working but remains mostly out of order. electricity hast been the ignis fatuus. Adhir with some other gardeners stay here. they sleep in the floor spreading mat made from weaving date leafs. no mosquito net. they aren't uncomfortable for that, Protit assures them. at the time of sleeping they will just brush up the dust. the grinning siren on the wall welcomes them. evening covers its veil over the dale. finishing the duty of ferrying Chatur + Subol emerge with a simple smile: Let's go, before anchoring the boat for tonight we'll cruise you a bit in the boat.

Moontasy On Waterway

.... On boarding the boat all world is full of exultation. From the point of view of stark reality the cream colored full moon of kojagori poornima can not be overlooked but to be hooked over and over again. To mystify by its imagic wonder in the tender dark of the evening it is rising out of the river womb vigorously in massive mass. The elixir glass \/ of classic mahua brought by Chatur and Subol is doing its round in each hand. It's truly pure and undiluted. As leaving Chatur and Subol, its raw chemystery is burning down everyone's unwonted throat. Sarol dilutes it with a bit of river water. Moonatic Sarol's introxicated tone flourishes now => If I had enough and enough money I would buy the moon to keep it to me.

Protit => Have I told you that I've sold u my moon? It's my sweet will that I will not sell u my moon. Being a dwarf, do not come to touch the moon.

This time the boat is racing with its boatizens toward the moon as if to grab it. This pro environ and superb exultation has never been prexperienced by the trio.

This is the ever flowing spring of supreme joy

which has no decay no death

no senility no heat no fire no glare

no glow no glaze no blaze no sparkle

which is soothing aplomb yet widest

does not infuriate anyone allure hit anyone

yet all pervasive all absorbing

having no beginning middle or end

no creation no survival no destruction

which is only evolving revolving toujours

in continuous uninterrupted consciousness

and flowing in inherent menternal

wonted & wanted feelings

tending to mix and mingle with each and all

spreading broadness and generosity

and widen pollinated germinated sprinkled

regenerated rejuvenated distributed

and redistributed ever and over and over

yet can be appreciated rarely scarcely

this time that exultation manifests itself

framing the infinirhyme spontaneously

in the puff of happy notes by Chatur's song:

At this end is me ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You are

on the other side of the sea.

.... His open candid voice and pastoral melody / when begin to engross eachbody, then abruptly he terminates the song: Na I'm mistaken. You are babus from Kolkata — I shouldn't sing these rustic songs in front of you.

== Seeing us you gonna think we're very cultured folks? We are just bumpkins. Now you restart. Somidh assures.

On everybody's assurance he restarts with initial disinclination. Gradually becomes easy and cozy when all hum with him:

In my golden happy days-s-s-s......

In my golden happy days

My deary is not with me

O my deary deserted me

to which land I don't know (oh oh)

,, ,, land I don't know (oh oh)

,, ,, ,, I don't know (oh oh)

In my golden happy days.

Oh my mind loveth not

In love one losses kin & clan

My life wrecks apart

Looking for bonheur my mind is aflame

awaiting black-bee my flower dried in the sun

In my golden happy days.

.... Watching Sarol keen to dance, Subol cautions him=> Don't dance on boat Babu, it might capsize.

== Sarol you can't swim. If you die turning the boat up side down, your father will still beat you blue, Protit's remark gags everybody.

Whose Tune Whose Bosom Pain

The boat returns to ghat. Anchoring the boat Subol uncorks their coy volition=> Babu now we 2 will go to see the Khemti dance.

== Where? How far?

== Not very far. Larkoli village, dist Purulia.

== Well, we too will accompany you. Why should the same journey have two different routes? Somidh.

== We've never seen that dance. We gotta get a glimpse of that, Protit adds.

== But gentle folks do not hear, see those indecent songs & dances, babu. You won't like it. Chatur.

== What's the matter tell me, if you think us we're that sort of gentleman who might hate those? Or you don't wanna take us there? Somidh's articulation.

== Oh, what are you talking about! Ok will you be able to walk? Or won't? May be 5 miles. Larkoli village is very rugged one.

== What rugged? Such a trifle distance is it a distance? Let's go. Protit prods.

.... Sarol in distrance is weary of walking such a considerable distance. He calculates going + returning = 5+5 = 10 miles more walk. Besides his experience tells him that there is great difference between the townies' and villagers' measurement of miles. In that case the said 10 miles distance might be naturally 20 miles. In the last few days their transchedule of marathon tournival overstressed his legs and whole body bruised & bepained. only today since morning going to Khoridoongri + back + from hostel to here might have been 15 miles walked already and have to cover the same miles on the returnal journey from here .... So wearied Sarol hints Protit in a low voice of his tension + intension cum mentension => In this dark pastoral pathways having no light—about 15/20 miles more to walk—!

But Protit's reverse sweep => If you can't walk why did you come? And if reluctant you go back to the rest house, you might sill get Adhir Sardar. Hang on till we get back. But you won't get any food there. Ok we will fetch some food for you at the time of being back. But it might be dawn to be back there after the end of the show.

.... Whacked by Protit's tacit ultramatum, Sarol preckonciles the situation menternally>> stark dark. entirely terra incognita road. to return to rest house <<alone where nobody is found to show the road even at daytime, so how can anyone get someone at night? then if managed to return to the rest house— there's none— no light. Omg, and if Adhir is not found there— without key it is dispossible to enter into the room— pitch dark— thief— robber— ghost— hunger— mosquito.....and any many more unpredictable dangers may incur. oh ffather he won't go to the rest house alone any more. it's better to walk 20 miles more. presuming Protit has tacitly chosen the righteous dose of leaving him high & dry. having no other option he U turns reluctantly => Well, let's see, the original khemti dance will be extinct slowly, later it can't be seen any more....

On the dark meadowy road worlden man Chatur gladventures singing:

I could not swap the garland

You have not been mine

for my wretched fate I got only pretense

for my wretched fate we could not tie the knot

I could not swap the garland

The 1 after another pastoral love songs of Chatur cook up with the chemystery of raw Mahua hook up their mind:

If you remain far from your harvested land

others will reap the crops backhand

Everybody walks imbibed in a distrance. Somewhen the quaint Narkoli village is reached:

You have only salt in the kitchen

will you cook simply salt in the oven?

Following the loud sound of music boxes they have no difficulty to find out the spot. They can hear from far:

I didn't say you don't go

Simply wished to you

Say when time is ready

Eat when food is ready

Go when you are ready

(((((((((((()))))))))))

C o s m o s p h e r E 1 D e a r s p h e r E

1.16

Chapter 16: Harmonious Times

Blossoming Youth Drains in Vain

.... Show has just started. An open space encircled by trees. A higher edition of the framework of a trellis made of bamboo and dry twigs for creeping up bottle gourds and basil creeper. Under the trellis runs the program of song and dance. Highlighted by daylights.

Characters: 1 singer cum danseuse called Naachni. Age: right or wrong side of 30. Height: medium. Body type: average. Complexion: dark.

\+ 3 chorusgirls +1 dhol drummer, here the Rasik himself.

+1 clarinet player +1 harmonium player +1 percussionist.

.... Spectators seated on jute rags and mats encircling the trellis on the ground. The trio likes the trellis set specially. which may be visualized in their film. Click tick from different sides. 2 benches reserved for the few respected village bosses. On these bosses depends the booking of the call show contract of the khemti danseuse, to be contacted by the connoisseur called Rasik, or appreciator. Somidhs are given to seat with the bosses as guests. The ganja firepot or kolke for smoking chillum is doing the rounds from one hand to another hand also offered to the trio. but as they aren't wonted they cannot make much use and beautifully utilize the chillum. They stick to their cigarette. But Subol and Chatur have plenty of stamina to beautilize the marijuana of chillum. They smack full shot of chillum smoke from the kolke pot. But here's no time to waste on these trifles. As the heroine is dancing and singing and make the soiree maddening:

Come on my honey sit in the cot

I need to talk to you

All trouble in home trouble outside

I won't love again honey my mind is sullen

The drummer, who is in fact the Rasik or lyricist and composer and connoisseur himself, is setting the rhythmic tempo of the nautch girl. slender tall Rasik drummer of may be 22. energetic black guy. in dhoti and sleeveless sandow vest. with lemon yellow bandana in temple. he at times making peculiar primal gibberish sounds through mouth:

...ah-ha/ aa-aa/ ah-ha / aa- aa.....

Again coming at the prelude and interlude sometimes abruptly sitting on the ground sometimes jumping up with his drum encircling the stage Rasik is captivating the audience. With him the nautch girl's dance is peaking up in the gap between the prelude and interlude. As in this part there's no singing. Only the accompanists playing with heavy enthu in mercurial top gear and high pitch. The song then advances:

At the beginning of love

so many coos you wooed

Now you fuddle poison for elixir

Now you soak up poison for elixir

.... Of course courtesy mahua sip they feel good now. Tipsy Sarol is tilting. Some hearers are seen rewarding the nautch girl by safety pining currency notes in her blouse with their own hands and in the mean time if they get the impropertunity to touch her selectric pointed breasts, that is the sextra reward. Sarol is menergized: Let me pin this 10 rupee note in Naachni's blouse? He swings the buck. But menternally he is skeptic presuming the real size of her breasts — those are really of that height! Or size zero doctored to look like that in the tactricks of pad and pyramid bra O=O

Protit snatches the note from Sarol to censure: U re tipsy. tilting. u might be prankish to touch her breasts. Better let Chatur go pin her. Of course at the time of pinning the note in the blouse of her dancing breasts, the subtly playful hands of steady Chatur are yogi or do not perform any subtle tactrickery — that can't be assured — as she is explicitly amorous in her corroborative — oh you naughty — sort of smile. Observing this Sarol elegies — oh, but for Protit he could have get this propertunity too!

.... Protit notes the symptomatic stance of the nautch girl Naachni's dance. The ruralite prima donna is swinging her upper body parts rarely. One raison d'etre for it might be that it is not possible to move all the parts of a single body harmoniously according to rhythm, to present the entire strenuous load of singing and dancing simultaneously in this solo program for such a long time, keeping the melody of her voice undamaged. It seems already her voice has been roughened a bit by raising it to the top gear & high pitch like female kawaali singers. However she shows proficiency of swinging lower parts of her body and foot works in sync with rapid jingles of ghoonghoor in between the prelude and interlude, when there is no lyric but only hyper accompaniment instruments play to the peak with the pas de deux. And beautilizing this propertunity her co actor herotic drummer Rasik chants the gibberish notations with his primitive wild looks and drums vocal expressions:

Hei::::::

Dha kita dha kita | dhag dhadha kita | dha tina dha tina | dhene gene

Eei::::::

Ta kita ta kita | tak tata kita | taa dhina ta dhina | tene kene

He also plays to exhibit the unique notational rhythms with the ginglic ghoonghoor dance of Naachni with the accompaniment of clarinet and harmonium.

Oh hey Laalmohan

.............................. (repeat in chorus)

Be not flawer touching early bud of Kadam flower

I'll gift you buddy kadam in time

I won't forbid you

.... Pinning the money of reward in the blouse of Naachni there is hardly any place left in her blouse to be pinned more. Sarols handover money to pin up boy Chatur a few more times to reward Naachni. Chatur somehow finds place to pin up the money in her blouse. Now Protit minutely notes the dress of Naachni => gown. transparent choli. sexuberant semitransparent blouse — from which the inside story of the 2 haunting inmates are peeping. The gorgeous colors of the gown choli and blouse and the glittering illustration of the fringe glazing imitation ornaments emblazon / what is covering up her poverty to some extent / her jest and jesture posture drag the spectator / her trinkets glowing and jingling guilty necklace, bangles earrings / reflecting lights, her loud shade of vivid foundation makeup coverts up the original dark complexion of her face and hands. The trio now can see from far that Subol is cooking their dinner under a tree. Their dinner will be ready after the program is over. Noticing this Sarol's meter of hunger ups.

.... On the upper branch of a tree nearby a bird twerps high. Somidh's look follows the twerp to find the bird above the dark of the high tree, to end up in the open sky over head. unclouded. unhazed. unphazed clear. dry. In the dark dazzles the dots of glowing stars. How Mr/Ms Full moon hiding behind a bushy high tree from only beyond 1½ light year away is tacktricking the focus of light who knows? Well from that sursphere those stars planets galaxies or some living objects insects even germs therein are monitoring that some immature inhabitants of this mortal earth engaged in some amusing music and dance soiree to forget their ultifate deadend in demise? ..... Or somewhere in supraspaces now is going on some different kind of social or cultural program by some different aliens like these mortal worldens? Or in celestial ensembles beyond some many more light years away some cosmozens of that place tracking the trajectory, are viewing this soiree in this part of the earth with the help of some powerful techknowledgical gizmo to comment: Yonder some cadaverous earthen inhabitants are now making how hysterionic silly absurdly gesture posture and gibberish crying hullabaloo! Whence ==>

To determine the distance of a star in how many light years away = distance of the star in speed of light in 1 year [miles]= 186000 ×365× 60×60×24......

.... Here napping Sarol's head dozes off slipping on Protit's shoulder while sleeping and Protit refixing his head to its proper place again and again: Keep straight for just a few more minutes my jewel Napster. After this we'll just eat and disperse. But that assurance isn't eared by napster Sarol. He only can mutter indistinctly: Wake me up at the time of fighting. Then again he begins to snore. Chatur has seen this ballad several times before. He solaces: No fighting in this. This ain't a warfare ballad, babu. This is the last song.

...What can be done? What can be done?

(hie hie) (ah ha)

.....................(Repetition in chorus)

O my blossoming youth drains in vain

....................(Repetition in chorus)

untimely lopped youth lapses inutile..ee

....................(Repetition in chorus)

O my blossoming youth drains in vain

If he belonged to me

He would taketh me away with him

.......................( repetition by co singers}

Today resting mind on paramour

I have to weep allthru my life

O my blossoming youth drains in vain

I won't love again honey my mind is barren

I won't love again honey my mind is sullen.....

(hie—hurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr..........)

Dha kita dha kita | dhag dhadha kita | dha tina dha tina | dhene gene

Ta kita ta kita | tak tata kita | taa dhina ta dhina | tene kene

.... It takes little time for the crowd to disperse after the soiree is over. about 3 am. The spectators from distance walk away with their torch, lantern and stick. And the nearer ones dissolve into their homes. Waking up Sarol, 5 persons seat to eat. Nearby sneak in 2 dogs wafting their tales. They are served food on banana leaf cut off the tree and washed by water of the pond. Hand made roti and Dinglar Chhokka. Subol notices Sarol is slighting dinglar chhokka — oh where are hamburger, pasta, pizza, roll, chow and where is chhokka! He says: Babu you're big shots indeed. I know these foods are trifle for you. But at this dead night here nothing more could not be found.

.... Somidh knows very well that Sarol is the dearly son of the rich — he won't like these food. Besides his mental format is not compatible to greet this type of hardy circumstances. He is an affluent lubber youth ailing from affluenza. May be he has come here for some adventure, now he finds it so much hard / it's waste of time, absurd sadventure to a bon vivant like him. Better he should not have come here. But Somidh explains to Subol just the opposite: He's just a lad, hasn't the habit to walk this much / then the mahua dose was also strong / he is tipsy / so he has no urge to eat. Your cooking of food is very delicious. Besides it's enough for us that you've been able to arrange this much for us at this hour of night.

.... Protit too dittoes the same line to explain to them. Then he reminds Somidh: We may require these artistes later.

== Yes, we may. But later on. If we need them later then Chatur knows their whereabouts. Then we might ask Chatur. Isn't it Chatur?

== Yes, whenever you'll ask, big bro. Again they will perform here on the last of the month of Chaitra fair. Then you come. It will be great fun. Chatur relishes the hodgepodge of sweet gourd item—dinglaar chhokka very much:

Oh what a high class Chhokka / he has cooked really / So sweet / So pungent so hot / Really really really really / Dinglaa's chhokka!

He has neatly licked every grain of food in his leaf. Others have residue of some food in their leafs for which the dogs are at daggers drawn over the right to grab. The very cost price Subols took for the food makes them ashamed.

.... During their incoming journey to Naarkoli, being introxicated in mahua and mopped up with songs they did not care how long is the way. But on the returnal journey / staggering with the bruised feet in the new shoes / Sarol being unable to keep pace with others, lags behind again and again / scarred he limps to them to cover up. Besides in the lonely night / on the dusted road / fogs up / the air is coldened. Now Sarol in very thin white pajama kurta, feels chill. He is going with hands crossed over his chest to guard against the chill. Chatur hums the strains of the ballad. In everybody's mind the full or scrapped versions of the lines of the tunes brewing and cooing.

( ..... O my blossoming youth drains in vain).

Then abruptly a flopping sound. They transturn back to discover Sarol dropped on the ground being stumbled.

(...At the beginning of love so many woos you cooed...).

Protit extends his hands to lift him up, asks: You ok?

.... There goes on chain reaction within so long contamed Sarol's mind in high turmoil. {Whence the Question arises: What is called chain reaction?

A: = From the Wanderer's Wordrobes it is known that in that part of the eternal times, the reactions during the time of dividing the atoms were called chain reactions. Being hit by neutron at the center of one isotope U 235 of Uranium, the atom was divided generating huge energy and producing neutron particles — which again by one after another more and more central division generated enormous atomic power during the division of uranium atoms — which calleth chain reaction. In this way the atomic energy found in each gram uranium wast 1.81 × 10¹º calorie and in each lb about 9 × 10¹² calorie ==> which produceth enormous holocaust.

.... Here in this case, because of long debate with Somidh in the morning × wound in the feet × reluctant hectic walking on long roads with the sprained feet × lack of sufficient sleep in time × chill feel × absence of preferred foods × introxication of mahua + smack of ganja × above all non meeting with Lipi....× all these causes multiplied = chain reaction one after another really. Really really really really...So jaded and acerb now Sarol's selfurnace lambursts into selfire in chain reactions: What's your concern? I have wound in feet, have no warm clothes, my body is turning to Bay of Bengal in chill — still how many more miles to plod who knows?

(I couldn't swap the garland you haven't been mine...)

.... Now Protit is infused upon Sarol for his tantrum. But in front of all he is aplomb. So that any wrong signal is aired to these good Samaritan friends Subol and Chatur, Somidh tries to diffuse and balm => He isn't habituated to walk such a long way, he is used to go by car. then that wound in feet. brought no warm clothes here. chill. so feeling uneasy. how far the rest house is?

Subol solaces => Not very far away younger bro. Just near after crossing the meadow—

.... Sarol looks at Protit in scare. As he is well versed with the rage of Protit. But menternally he isn't convinced on Subol's promystic words. Because he is well aware with the fact that

If a ruralite looks a distance as near

a citizen doutlooks it must be far

.... A meadow must be how many meadows, who knows? But here it is proved Subol is right. In no time they land at the rest house.

(.. Oh hey Laalmohan / be not flawer touching the early bud of kadam..)

.... Washing hands and feet in the river Somidh gives Sarol an antiseptic bum for attrition on his scar. Everyone rests his body lying on the space meant for their dumpage in the floor mat >> beside sleepy Adhir and his co laborers.

(..I'll gift you buddy kadam in time / I won't forbid you..)

.... Deep sleep doesn't delay to grasp them. But sitting beside the sleeping alive corpses in the floor-crossing moontage light, jaded Sarol is rubbing pain balm on his wounds. rubbing. rubbing. rubbing. rubbing. rubbing. rubbing. rubbing. rubbing rubbing. rubbing rubbing. His wounds. burning. burning & burning. in the dark he can't exactly preconcile if the burn is externally in his body? or menternally in mind? only burning. burning & burning. burning & burning & burning & burning.

(..I won't love again honey, my mind is sullen...)

.... Rubbing and rubbing the pain balm at a time when he dips in sleep in vertigo with a heavy heartigo, lying beside a snorer, whom he can't see in blindense darkness nor can he dreamember anything more....

Row Peacock Boat On Dream Stream

.... {Thence within his sleep Sarol will envision?

.... Scene: shooting location as of movies. Inspecting the nitty gritty of light—camera—sound and everything ok as per his choice, Somidh's call: ACTION !

.... All of them—he, Protit, Lipi, Somidh, Swaha and the intermittently coughing Shrota wavering on the unending meadowy path. On the dreamystic distant horizon fading hillocks and lake. Sarol is limping a bit. He has little scar for wearing new shoes. Thereforth he canst walk at ease anymore.}

Cut to

Sarol: how far more should we go? I can't walk further.

Protit: (riled) why did you come if u can't walk? Now should we walk taking u on our shoulder?

Lipi: Oh what a mess? If you can't walk how would you dance in disco, Mr. Tomfool? hi hi hi hi ... (Lipi's teasing infuriates Sarol.)

Shrota : (coughing) Ok u sit to take a break.

Coughing & coughing.

Somidh : Ok. We're waiting for you a while. (He looks thru camera standing in a place and now and then emits director's signals by his hands. And others scattereth hither and thither on both the sides of the road.)

Cut to

.... {In this set up appeareth a cyclist pushing his cycle with one hand and holding a big billy goat sitting on the carrier at the rear. The beard of the billy goat is wavering in the wind. A clown cap clingeth to the horns of the big goat. The goat is cool even being a scapegoat. May be s/he doesn't know as s/he is a goat. Or as s/he doesn't know so s/he is a goat}

Lipi: eureka. Lift up the Tomfool to ride on the billy goat. Then he won't have to walk.

Cut to

.... {Everybody excepting Sarol supporteth this propo delightfully. And with enthu lifteth up Sarol to ride on billy goat's back. The goat's cap is fitted in Sarol's head.}

Cut to

.... {The goat carrieth Sarol and plods on. Everybody moveth on. Abruptly it is viewed that a large peacock-winged boat drifting down from the sky is floating on the lake and cruising toward them. Subol and Chatur are the sailors of the vessel. they don in lungi. Hawaii sandals. Sleeveless Sando vests. black complexioned. red thin napkins tied to their waistland like belts. eye-goggles \o-o/

They welcometh everybody to the boat.}

Cut to

.... {Everybody is pleased to see that well-known dance group of Hullor discotheque has been branched to this charming luxurious boat from Kolkata. Thence the dark descendeth on the boat that is now aptly lighted and delighted.

The dance floor on the deck. bamboo structure. A higher edition of the type of a trellis made of bamboo and dry twigs for creeping up bottle gourds and basil creeper. Under the trellis daylights hanging like bottle gourds. There wearing only bikini type waistband made of gold coins and bra made of paper notes only, blond danseuse Naachni's Khemti dance is in progress.}

Cut to

Naachni: For my wretched fate I got only pretense / For my wretched fate we could not tie knot / I could not swap the garland / You have not been mine...

.... {Accompanying the danseur, Chatur hanging drum around his neck playeth the rhythm with wild gibberish sounds and prehistoric looks.}

Chatur: ...ah-ha/ aa-aa/ ah-ha / aa- aa...

{Again at times abruptly sitting on the ground and at times jumping up with his drum encircling the stage he captivateth the audience}.

Chatur: hie—hurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr..........

Dha kita dha kita | dhag dhadha kita | dha tina dha tina | dhene gene

Ta kita ta kita | tak tata kita | taa dhina ta dhina | tene kene

Cut to

.... {On the dance floor beneath the trellis all souls advance with Sarol on billi goat's back and begin to dance in a trance surrounding him. Somidh on shooting spree. Sarol picking up a 10 buck note from his chest pocket and tries to pin it up on the paper-bra over the panoramic breasts of the dancer Naachni, whilst censoring Lipi snatcheth it form his hands and continueth her revelry encircling him and singing.}

Lipi: Nincompoop lamb ah

.............Hip hop samba

.....Goatee grumble hum-bah

Cut to

{Now the bewildered billi goat growls:}

Billi goat: Bah-ah-ah.........

Cut to

Somidh: (signaling hand) — CUT—

— PACK UP—

(((((((((((()))))))))))

C o s m o s p h e r E 1 D e a r s p h e r E

1.17

Chapter 17: Wayout Times

Corpses Carry Corpses

Day fades night s-p-r-e-a-d-s

we await again when dawns the dawn

Seeing the rising sun

sometimes we wonder

but hardly ponder

dawning means 1 step forward to death

As death tolls your corpse is carried

alas, by the future corpses!

Corpses cry and flower the coffin

[ ((())) (()) ]

.... What is known as day in the world / is in fact darkness of ignorance, as said in the Gita. Another day debited from the span of life.

Next day. Before the eternal returnal sunray becomes hardcore, the troika returns to hostel. No it is mistaken. How their returnity can count? What happened before the return?

Rewind

.... Before that previous shot<= They walking in the morning sun on the road of embankment for a long time. Sarol a bit slower. He is often a listener. Because of bruises in his feet and heartifact. This road is turned drab and dismal long way to him after passing last several times up and down this road.

Rewind

.... Previous shot <= They are ferrying the river on the ferrier boat of Subol and Chatur.

Chatur => Will you stay here tonight? Then shall we bring the pure stuff for tonight too?

Protit => Oh sure. We're returning in the evening. We'll dinner here together. We'll host. You arrange for Subol, you, Adhir and us.

Subol =>: Everything will be arranged. Done if we order rice and chicken at the big sis's shop. But you come before the last evening ferry. Otherwise we can't cross over to the other side.

Protit.=> Okay ok, we'd come before.

Rewind

.... Previous shot <= They are for breakfast over puffed rice muri and fried chop with tea at the big sis's shop on the other side before ferrying, and hearing the womaniac worldy talks by big sis.

Rewind

.... Previous shot.<= The trio reluctantly wakes up by the infiltrating rays of the morning sun on their eyes through the window and preparing to return to their hostel. Because after the lunch there, they intend to be back here for the night stay. Subol Chatur Adhir and others have already gone out on their business.

Fast forward

.... Before the eternal returnal sunray becomes hardcore, the troika returns to hostel.

Sleep Placid As Others Sleep

.... Sarol is depressed over the information of Lipis. They have not yet returned from Ranibandh. Their door locked. So what can be done? home bath no river bath. Provu's bland hodgepodge. If they fall into nap at noon they fear they won't be able to reach the confluence in the evening before time. In that case they won't be able to ferry onto the other side and stay at the forest rest house at night. So deciding not to sleep they fall into sleep in deep weariness. Napster Sarol starts snoring. but snoring is contagious. its provement on the others takes place in no time ......

The last rays of sun peep on their eyes thru the ventilator to wake up Somidh. Unliding eyes he sees the green hillocks on one side. And the other side draws him to the gray wide watery ornaments of the river.

Fear Hides Within Fear

.... Haphazard thoughts inkhorn in the confluence of his mind when on reverse lookup abruptly he premembers their Road Map of reaching the confluence before the evening! Whatta mess! This irreparable late is due to their sleep being over jaded. Still the fear of late propels them to just somehow changing their wears and start shouldering the sack hurriedly. If they don't collect some dry food from the shop, there it will not be available. but lack of time. it could not be taken. again that road. the fear of being late haunting them. that same embankment. In the pleasure of being atouched to their companions which was dulcet to them before, now today it is merely ordinary drab colorless rhythmless and nonpleasant picture to them. + Fear of missing the ferry.

Fear. Fear Hides Within Fear. Somidh ponders the bushy fearie yonder tree. Seeing which that night Shrota was afraid of spirit. He was amused to scare her. But was Shrota really eerie of spirits? Or she feigned to be scared of spirit to enjoy his company that time? Whatever, the tree was in a central role that night, when he could not see the tree hidden in the dark mingled with other trees, sans its illuminations by thousands of flickering fire flies, which flashes his mind now for a while:

.... They walk past the ghost tree. Now it looks simply a big tree. Of course the mystory of the tree is unsniffed by Protit and Sarol. Long way to cover even after crossing the tree. the trio walksters. talkless. moving. talk killer in brain is active.

Free River~~~~Closed Ferrier

.... Racing with the synergetic brain is their fast walking in ventre a terre. Yet when they finally reach the square of the confluence, before that the moondom is already established. Then no electricity there. Hurrying down to the ferry ghat they find none on the blank bank. On the hazy background on the other side they yonder none. Only lavish moonlight. They shout:

Cha—tuuuuuuuuuuuu—rrrrrr ......

Su—booooooooooooo—lllllllll.......

.... But their forceful shouts rebound to them stoutly. They are up again on the road leaving the bank of the river. There is none visible on the road nearby. But they yonder some dots of feeble fire of smoking biri around a flame of kerosene lamp. That is the only slim source of light there emitting from the coolie den of Jaadu, the gang-leader, who is sitting there encircled by the coolies and kamins. Among them the presence of some young beautrap kamins like that of day before yesterday attract Sarol, but he has to remain quiet. Like that evening he has no chance today to hobnob and sing and dance with them. Because there is going on the important accounting of their payment of that day. So they are not at all welcome there. Protit asks to be informed that the last ferry has gone back. So Chatur and Subol have evaporated with the ferry. For them which wayout is the best to tread now? Link as you think / click as you seek to tick.

[] 1. To return to the Abas hostel.

[] 2. To try cross the river to stay at the forest house.

[] 3. To try stay at this spot somewhere.

[] 4. None of the above.

.... Sarol vetoes the question of going back to Abas: Even if we walk back to the hostel when we reach dinner will be over there, we have to starve. Besides we have said that we won't return tonight, so Provu will be out and we'll have to stay out of the room for not getting the key from Provu. Moreover my wound of feet is not cured in spite of rubbing the balm. So if I can't rest tonight I won't be able to walk further. Sarol's crude answer.

== And the ferry is closed. Subol & Chatur vanished. So trying cross the river to stay at the forest house is irrelevant. Protit's addition.

Only the #3 option is open. So # 4 is quashed. So in accordance action >>>

== Hello, hearing? We were to stay at night at Subol and Chatur's place, but we're late to reach here so they've gone. So can we stay here at this shack with the coolies just for tonight? We would pay the charge, if any? Protit's request to Jaadu, the gang-leader.

Jaadu Mahato does not respond. He is engrossed into his accountancy.

Sarol again puts the same question.

Jaadu Mahato does not respond. He is engrossed into his accountancy.

Somidh again puts the same question.

Jaadu Mahato does not respond. He is engrossed into his accountancy.

.... He does not commit any yes or no. They perceive his no response = NO. Yet Jaadu wants not to be unpopular saying no bluntly. Again saying yes he wants not to make this coolie shack a soft target for any plausible impending danger from the outsiders giving them shelter. Where there always he has to maintain a contingency monetary fund for the work in progress and to pay the coolies. Especially when they are not thieves or robbers or terrorists or with them there are no contraband items like drugs or arms or ammo—where is the guarantee to Jaadu? So only remaining mute and uninviting, how nicely Jaadu scuttles his own probable problem, brushing out their alternative to stay here—assuming this Somidh can not but appreciate him menternally.

Buddha We Sell Also War We Sell

.... At this point Somidh remembers the similarity of solving a problem by Jaadu Mahato, simply by doing nothing tactics, also followed by Ronit Mishra a.k.a. Rony _da_ , a massmeric leader of the Progressive Party, their local representative of the lawmaking house. Somidh has intimacy with Rony _da_ from his childhood. So he uses to hang out to Rony _da_ 's office at his locality whenever it is not crowded, just to chat, that is adda.

.... One day they were engulfed into the adda when 1 aunty came to complain Ronyda against a few persons in details ---------

and in fine she asked him =>: Well Rony, what do u think about this problem? Will you do anything to address this to redress?

Ronyda pacifies => Don't worry. You come after 3 months. Let me see what I can do.

The aunty being halfhappy just leaving, when enter a trade union worker affiliated to his party. He complains of various problems of the union and prays for his solutions as the leader in this case ---------

Ronyda's excuse => You know now several party workers' workshops are in operation. Then the annual plenum is impending. For which I've to remain engaged all the time. But don't worry. You come after 3 months. Let me see what I can do.

.... When the complainants are gone Somidh is curious =>: Well Ronyda, you take time from them to solve the prob for them, but how will you solve these 3 naught 3 problems within this time?

== I won't do anything. Time is a great healer. Time shall solveth anything automatically. Ronyda responds. How? You see I was informed by my secret sources beforehand that they are coming to me and for solution of which problems. The long time I've taken from them within that time they themselves will solve their own problems by fighting among themselves or by negotiation or they will stomach mutely or hope for the best time to come. And if there is fighting, the cops will intrafere. There I shall openly sermon the gospel of thomas on our struggle for justice, peace, secularism and for all the sucked oppressed and depressed peoples of the world and against the imperialism & terrorism and surreptitiously tell the cops to take such action only, which will profit me, and my party— which in turn will earn them extra bucks and promotion for the officers concerned. And in the meantime if I'm informed that the problem is going to be solved then I'll go there as a mediator to show publicly that the prob has been solved only through my mediation, and our open and / or whispering campaign to that effect will follow so that my number of votes in that pocket increases in the election.

== But if instead of solution there occurs fighting and killing or if any side goes to court?

== The better. Whoever is killed we shall show him / her as our party enthusiast and erect a pillar of memorial on the road, call a total bandh strike in the area against our opposition party. And if any side files a suite, then it will take at least 10-20-30 years even more time to get the final verdict from local, district, provincial or highest courts. Till that time we have nothing to worry. Because we can show the matter as sub judice. So nothing can be done now.

== Eh, won't take so long time to get the verdict?

== Which country do u live in? You keep no info. How much can I teach u? To tell u means to plant tree in a desert. No yield. Your climate will not ingest all these. Isn't it? I said when the verdict will be delivered till that time may be our party is not in power or may be some or all of the suitors and defenders and me also been transferred to the above court waiting for the supreme verdict of the Lord.

== But in principle you are to help them? Aren't you peoples' representative? Somidh pokes.

.... Ronida now opens his Pandora's box of funda =>

If you see only

virtue & vice black & white

how will you appreciate the rainbow of life

is good or bad outright?

.... This ain't your trifle snapshot or drawing, understand? Does your acting tacting drama trauma art tart tucks some bucks? (Remaining mute in disappointment for a while slowly) Politricks is a big thing. Not that a few times I did consider you to induct into politricks. Unemployed youth. If you can enter into it you can earn so much fast bucks, sufficient for your living. But later I abandoned the idea as your IQ = 0. If we have a few edgeless tomfool cadres like you in our party, our party will surely disband. And as you are a nincompoop, you couldn't do anything till now. Thou fathead, principles of politics and the principles or policies of the leaders of the country or state or province = policics or politricks, art today different. In politricks thou art to stab even the friend who is beneficial to thee, lest he dangerously outsmarts thee in future. Hither is nothing such as permanent friend or foe. Today's friend is tomorrow's frenemy. Yesterday's enemy is today's friend. Enemy of enemy is my friend. Enemy's friend is my enemy. Thither thou art to somersault frequently, citing principle. but in reality not at all sticking to the principle, with the change of situation and strategy. Whence thy ideal totem is not tiger lion or elephant, but chameleon—which canst change color frequently. The difference is:

Changes color the chameleon

not for politics or fashion

but for survival

.... And thy ideal symbol of transport is boat with sail that canst change the course of way according to the whimsical wind. Thence thou don't doeth even by mistake what thou sayeth. Don't sayeth beforehand what thou will do. Art thither still any trace of the idealistic politics of Garibaldi, Lincoln, Gandhi, Netaji? Lecturing he dips in mute musing. What he thinks to say something more, but his language doesn't express it to outside is:

Buddha We Sell Also War We Sell

(~!~)

Sibs of peace, Buddha we sell also war we sell

We adore fairytales' flying horseback Sivaji

In our talk Gandhiji in our head Tagoreji

In our word Marxji in our heart Netaji

In our mind Hitlerji in our work allergy

Sibs of peace, Buddha we sell also war we sell

Virtually this time even a dumb has foe

One can't keep mum yet voicing invites danger

Protest is a costly recklessness

And to remain mute = naked consenting wolves

Now mantra is do don't say, say don't do in lethargy

We adore fairytales' flying horseback Sivaji

In our talk Gandhiji in our head Tagoreji

In our word Marxji in our heart Netaji

In our mind Hitlerji in our work allergy

Sibs of peace, Buddha we sell also war we sell

In stark dark pecked star apples splinter under trees

In Siam myriad discerning bats fly in Prachin Buri sky

wising untoxic Neanderthal frutile taste genetically

Only unwitting how far is their coveted total dark

after how many naked nukes tsunami quakes?

In need sharp homo sapiens knead dough in sputum

Assured grave holed by self-dug enervation

Aside slump if fierce arrows ==> sting each step

peril destocks food + fuel + ammo

feigning frenemy backstabs in coup de main

menaces don't deter to win alien trove in synergy

We adore fairytales' flying horseback Sivaji

In our talk Gandhiji in our head Tagoreji

In our word Marxji in our heart Netaji

In our mind Hitlerji in our work allergy

Sibs of peace, Buddha we sell also war we sell

.... Remaining menternal for some time.....Ronyda backs to his current tracks => In politics Midh, you know our original guru of all Mr Chanakya said you say but don't do & do but don't say / Do for your own self or for your own kin / but show it is for the sake of country for the sake of public.

== Did he? I doubt. But there should be a political philosophy—Capitalism, Marxism, Subhasism, Gandhism, Maoism —

== Oh certainly. Otherwise why should people eat us? That we must utter mutter chatter and swear while lecturing. But in reality our philosophy is Propertunism. Because =>

Like a monkey when

jumping yet not missing the branch

only then you can convert your opportunity

into propertunity to burgeon

— that means like a monkey you jump everywhere in search of improper or proper opportunity—yet not miss to achieve your goal to serve yourself—your main mantra should be to crave more wealth for your self—your hidden agenda—grab more money honey for yourself to save the country. In other words just a catchy oneliner =>

Grab money save the country

== But Chanakya spake such I haven't heard.

== That's it. He must have said such as that. You don't read anything / Only tread aimlessly. Just read Arthashastra by Kautilya. You'd get it there. What was our etude?

== Regarding prob of Aunty.

== Oh yes. See, if we are to act according to law and justice, her cause is really right and genuine. So we should do that.

== So why not doing it? To benefit her and settle the score?

== Are you gonna insane? Don't you know?

The promise of an acting leader

is not for keeping but for skipping

== Acting!

== Oh, when Shakespeare says of acting, all admire, when we the leaders act, we're vilified. What we were talking about?

== Aunties' prob.

== Yea, o thou insaniac, ending a problem is also a problem.

== Oh father how is that?

== If all the misc. problems like poverty bad education, illiteracy, unemployment, health stealth global warming terrorism ferrorism ...... are solved outright, then what we—the middlemen (read touts), who make wealth cashing out of these problems, shall we eat? We'll surely be unemployed. Over and above those who are facing these problems — when these will be solved they will be marooned into other problems. Don't you look at what haps in rich countries? Now if the issue of disarmament is solved the arms dealers will be out of sync. What they will eat? So let people die / Let the radioactive ashes fly. Let country or continent burn. Let there be war — of course war for peace. war for virtue against vice. We don't want war we want peace. We want war for peace. We want struggle struggle struggle. Struggle to live ...... And if the global warming or disarmament are today amicably settled then shall the problems end forever? ...Then there might be other problems like global worming or armament in firmament ...... Is problem of yours alone? In reality problem is like sea waves. Other waves lash one after another before the one wave subsides ... then other waves ...then others...Is there any end of waves of problems ...

One may want or not at all

Waves will rise and fall

Vote Bank Of India

== But I can't understand what's your profit keeping the problem alive? Somidh feigns to become amazed.

== This much u can't understand? You're just a ninny. poop. fathead. Ok do you understand Vottikabyam?

== That I've heard some ancient Sanskrit tongue script epic topic written by poet Vatti.

== Ash, trash you've understood! Not ancient Sanskrit — how to win a vote mechanism in modern times — it is that epic. Understand?

Somidh seems to stare at him bewildered.

== Really Midh, unlearned like you —

== But if the countryful people unlearned like me don't exist, then how the learned clever and wise great leaders — like you should reign? Somidh continues pumping him messaging his ego.

.... Ronyda is pleased => That u say isn't bad. Yea, Vottikabyam is simply mathematics. Mathematics of vote. That if you say it in your Bangla is vote + mathematics = Votamatics. Now clear?

== Like crystal. But how votamatics work? Is it for eating or for rubbing?

== A simple sum will make this votamatics also clear to you. Suppose now according to justice I solve this problem in favor of aunty. In this case at best I get all the 5 votes from aunt's house. But how many votes I lose?

== How many?

== How will you know how many? The leader is like a mirror.

The mirror shows in front everything

Doesn't show behind self or anything

.... Those who are grabbing aunt's land by leaps and bounds, are the people from the adjoining locality — they are my pocket voters. At least I have 5 thousand voters there + who are my party supporters + from whom I get cadre before election + get cars + subscriptions + gifts. I'm the president of their club. I inaugurate cutting ribbons of all their functions. Shani, Shitala, Eid, Iftar in each committee we have fitted our partymen. I don't wanna cite publicly all my other humble gains and income from them. So if I settle the score in favor of aunty, then in the next election from that single pocket only 5000 — 5 = 4495 votes will be cast against me. There are so many pockets like this. There are so many problems in those pockets. So how can I go on losing my head over the flimsy issue of a single pocket? if I have to show justice and morality in all the pockets, then the trade of my trade unionism and peoples' representative will be bankrupt. if I lose the election not only I am dwindled, it is the party's loss that means it is country's loss. So in the greater interest of the people and in the interest of the country, the trifle interest of aunty must be sacrificed. Because if there is party I am there. If there is no party I am nowhere. As interest of the country or of the people aren't greater than the party. The party is above all. The party is almighty god. I can lose everything my money riches wife children everything. But I can't lose vote by any means. Because if I lose everything but win in election—then also I can regain everything. But if you lose in the election, and if have everything else, still you have nothing nobody will stay beside you.

You are right if you win the fight

You are wrong if you lose outright

.... Nowadays can you name which is the biggest bank of the country?

== Yea. Reserve Bank of India.

Ronyda negates by swaying head.

== No? Then State Bank of India?

== Ash, trash u know. The largest bank in our country currently is

Vote Bank of India.

== But what will you tell when the Aunty will come?

== Next time I'd say very busy now, come after some days. then say why so haste? it's on process. then say ok I'm seeing, let me investigate and verify. after that say I've told the cops to take action. why they aren't taking let me ask them again. This way if I turn her around for several times, aunty will stop coming to me and I hope my guys can encroach her whole plot of land within that time. And we shall overcome someday to construct a party office on that plot. If aunty protests we can say it is for your security we're keeping our office here — our cadres'll keep a close vigilant eye so that the vested interests can't inflict more harm to u. And ward off the cops not to come to this side go elsewhere; you accommodate me in my craft / I'll see your favorable transfer promotion and graft.

== And if Aunty goes to the court?

== That I've told you earlier. Will tell her as you've gone to the court we couldn't do anything in this sub judice matter. However, you continue the fight, we're behind you to support. And if aunty gets the verdict in her favor at an early date, then publicizing the verdict as a victory of the struggle of our party in her support, we will organize a procession bursting crackers, distributing sweets on the road sprinkling and smearing colored aabir powder to celebrate OUR victory. And on whom the power is vested to implement the judgment, those peacekeeping forces will be warded off not to activate the court order / for the sake of maintaining peace communal harmony and order.

== But should this be done?

== Oh, here cometh the moral police! Hey insaniac, if you sincerely work to eradicate the problems and development of your area and do many honest works, then also are you sure to win the election — if you don't have done the votamatic calculation beforehand correctly?

== Won't be able?

== Not at all. Rather if you know the right votamatic sums and can lecture ample false promises credibly without doing any work for the constituency, your win is certain.

== That way u may win once but not again and again.

== Oh ass, if u can win once and if you are not shy but sly and proactive, what you can earn via backdoor will be sufficient for your next 2 generations to spend maintaining their lavish livelihood. Of course if you wanna make assured arrangement of maintaining the lavish livelihood for your more 12 generations, that means for your 2 + 12 =14 generations beforehand from now—then you must know ahead and apply properly the higher votamatics or poll pollitricks.

== Interesting, continue.

== Yes, it is interesting indeed as u knowing all this for free. Otherwise you had to know it from the political consultants dishing out a lump sum fee. However if you were a man of my line or my contender or a clever guy who could have the capacity to misutilize it, I won't have divulged you this scoop.

== Okk, take a smoke. Somidh gives a cigarette and lights it.

== Only cigarette? Leave it, with you I don't have any give n' take relationship, so I'm disclosing. Have you seen this pen stand? No mod pen — instead here are feather pens. Of various colors. For the use in different purposes different concerns different interests.

== But feather pens are obsolete nowadays.

== That's a silly mistake. You're presuming what's the utility of keeping feather pens today? Double action. You know?

== 1 meaning must be writing.

== Writing but writing in different color for having different impliance. If I write a letter recommending somebody (as if any person wants me to recommend him/her, I can't say no bluntly to lose my vote) in light ink, that has been already indicated beforehand to its recipient that take this recommendation lightly, don't give any importance to it. writing in red ink implicates — danger. reluctantly i have to recommend, intracept it by red tape. writing in black ink indicates if you act in accordance with this recommendation your future is bleak like black, so don't spoil your own broth. writing in blue ink hints the bearer of this letter is a fish of great depth in the blue sea, so think deeply before you act. only writing in green is the green signal — which is today very rarely used. So you'll find in each green pen the green ink is almost dried up due to it's seldom use. 'cause we can't stand the cadaverous green color or greenguy we see red we don't wanna see green & go green. for that reason we've almost deforested the greens allover the world.

== But the other meaning of double action? Somidh resets him on the right track.

== The other implication is that the difference of these pens are the symbol of tickling and ego massaging of the different type of people in different mode and mood. One feather is for tickling one type of people. Another for another.

== One type of tickling means?

== That means some feather is for tickling caste and creed, some feather is for tickling language, some feather tickles advancement of infreestructure and better services, tickling of reservation on caste and religion and sex, tickling of subsidy, tickling of strike & barricade & road-block, tickling of employment for youth, tickling of development, tickling of political and religious terrorianism... Thus determining the different type of average menternality + pollitricks of the different areas and showering rains of credible fake promises on people at random + and posing the interest of the party as the need of the nation + thereby channeling their streams of latent emotions opening the lock gate of the voting machine translated into the candidates' own favor, is the work of a really able leader like leader.

== That means according to you, tickling the fractions of people's (read voters') stark emotions = premotions are far more important than logic and doing good work for the general people ?

== That's like it; at least in most cases.

== It has been happening for all along in the past? Or it's the trend of nowadays?

== It has been happening since olden goldentimes, it is happening and shall continue to happen.

== Later works can't be proved now, only we can hyposuppose. But can you cite me such occured in the past?

== Why not? Just remember the trial of Socrates. In that tribunal of 500 citizens 280 voted against him being chased by futile egotic emotion. while 220 favored him. By this slender majority, they had awarded death penalty to him who was described as 'the wisest, the gentlest, and the best' 'of all the men of his time' by his disciple Plato. Because he had logically outsmarted his complainants, interrogating all their irrational egoistic allegations against him.

== Many years ago the Chinese philosopher Lao-Tzu said — by doing nothing, one wins the world—that sounds true in this case?

== Quite correct. What name you uttered? Chinese prophet? Rightly said. Must have been a deity. But bro, I won't deny — all the wayout I've learned practically from my direct guru Romnis Pundit.

== Amazing! Here also Omni Pundit? So, like the Little Buddha, you're a Little Omni Pundit I see! But I've heard he is against any negative unethical or improper way to rob the people!

== Oh, yes. But do you know he is a follower of the philosophy of interaction between yes and no— positively negative or negatively positive Chetanavyasism? True he hadn't said me to do this kind of things and he will thrash me if he hears all my activities now— but everything depends upon how you can interprete and manipulate any positive way to gain from it by negatively using it. Ramakrishna Paramhansa said, money is soil, soil is money. Then did he ask the landshark promoters to grab land by employing supari killers? But the land developers of today knowingly or unknowingly operate on this mantra. This is politricks; you understand jackass! U know Omni Pundit? Omniscient man. A living paracyclopedia. Meet him at his Bangasudha's theque. You will be fecund. You will get some fruitile wayout there.

.... And Ronyda salutes his guru touching temple raising his hand.

(((((((((((()))))))))))

C o s m o s p h e r E 1 D e a r s p h e r E

1.18

Chapter 18: Oblivious Times

Back to the Harsh Ground

.... Returning from the menternal tour to the stark ground reality, Somidh compares to find out....in this case also Jaadu Mahato like Ronyda, has successfully won something simply by doing nothing. Jaadu silently has steamrolled their expectation. But they are helpless. here is no locality so that they can ask for help. Sarol is scared and frustrated == What will you do now?

== You see the world is bigger. There are more people besides Jaadu. Some good or bad arrangement must happen. If it cannot be done at all, at the worst we shall have to trudge back to the Abas hostel — nothing worst than this can hap. Lets turn a bit backwards, he maps. When we came I remember we saw some fisherman's hut, Somidh wanting not to relent before trying out the piss aller.

.... Backward marching its seen yes. there's a fragile thatched hut. Dark. It seems nobody is in there. Yet a simmering ray of hope. Entering into it on their people search, 2 guys are traced. One snoozing in the date leaf sewn mat on the ground. Wearing a lungi. Bare upper body. The other in white dhoti & kurta. Sitting at the alter beneath the tree in clear moondom. His long curled hair & beard perfectly match with the dark. He is awake. 'cause in his eyes glitters moon. Protit advances to request the mute somber image => Hi, you see we're lurched as the last ferry's gone. Will you let us stay here for this night only?

The somber image is mute.

After a while Sarol again urges the same request.

The somber image is mute.

.... Then Somidh proceeds with his piss aller =>: Ok let me explain. He places their problem in brief then adds — see if you don't respond or don't shelter us now then as here's no other locality so we'll have to trudge back so long to our hostel at Abas in this dark. and he has a wound—still plodding so long way back there we'll find the caretaker. we won't get the key. won't be able to enter our room. so we'll have to spend the night at outside. sleeplessly. and in the morning again we'll have to come here to ferry across the river. so if you kindly —

== But we don't even have any even date leaf mat to lie. You are bon ton townie men. Will you be able—? The somber Udas Bairagi responds.

== O rest assured. You're giving shelter to such people whom you donno at all—who else gives that? For that many thanks. We live in city no doubt. But what is meant by typical townie folks we ain't just like that. We can share such inconvenience.

Protit also assures =>: That we'll manage. This place adjacent to the river is wonderful.

Bairagi's call wakes up the napster—the napping man matched with the dark, appears tacitly.

== Poolin, show them the room.

.... Poolin lights up the kerosene lamp, the feeble uncertain flame being endangered by the hijacking fickle wind of river recurrently. a small stark dark dismal room. smell of mud hut. thatched roof. a torn off corded single cot. a destructured fractured chair waiting to be dismantled. one handle is broken. somehow sustaining to stand yet. but it is better to get something instead of nothing. Sarol is very upset seeing the depleted condition of room: How to sleep here? no space to sit and lie down.

== First class 5* lodging. Protit propines. Keeping the sacks there at least they are free from the load. Poolin slips to sleep.

.... Sarol grumbles => Due to waking up late in afternoon, no dry food could be shopped for here. now we have to starve whole night. will you request them if any food can be arranged?

== That means when you gotta sleep you wanna eat? Of course all will suffer—not only you. Well, let me plead once if it can be done.

Somidh petitions to Udas Bairagi => It's great you've kindly given us shelter. But at the time of coming here we couldn't bring with us any foodstuff in haste. (He lights up a cigarette and gives one to Bairagi for smoking) — and here we noticed no shop. So it seems we gotta starve at night. Your cooking and dinner for tonight has finished? If not done can you arrange something for us with you? We'd pay the expenses for that.

== We can't afford to cook at night, babu. After our duty of fishing is over we simply boil rice with gruel just for once to eat before the end of the day. And lie down to sleep so that hunger is suppressed at night. We were not born with the fate to eat 2 meals a day, babu. But today if it happens in honor of you we'd also get. Poolin—?

== Excepting rice there's nothing big bro, Poolin cautions.

== Ok, there's water in the river? Somidh shrugs off.

== Yes there's.

== Fire's there?.

== That too is here. But the wood for fire is scarce. Let me see.

.... They also follow Poolin to the forsaken backyard of the hut. Somber. mud room. Through the holes of the straw roof the moon and stars peeping inside. Poolin cautions => Don't enter in the room, creepers are there.

== Creeper? What's that? Sarol's query.

== Goddess Ma Mansha, their names not to be uttered at night, babu.

Protit watches holes everywhere on the mud floor of the room in flashlight.

Somidh senses at the very coup d' oeil => What kinds of creeper are here, Poolin?

== Bastu, Khorish, Cobra —

Apprehending now scarred Sarol jumps out of the room tacitly—so that if chased by snakes he can run to escape. Inside the room he'd have to die inviting snakebite.

Poolin picks sliced sticks of the bamboo frame and straw form the weatherworn thatched roof as the fuel to conclude => This much will do.

.... Distranced from hunger and poverty all through his life bon vivant in affluenza, hungry Sarol sitting now beside the open mud oven fireside, preckonciles this wonder for the first time that the smell of the boiling rice is more endearing than that of the Parisian scent.

.... Menu —> smoked coarse red gruel-rice. Salt. Sitting on the ground to eat, Somidh premembers the remains of a half finished packet of fried mixture of snacks in his sac. That is brought and taken by all as if some precious food. Bairagi is as usual nonconcerned. But Poolin's face vividly indexes the satisfaction. His white teeth in black face flash even in dark => Babu, after a long time I'm eating 2 times a day.

== Why fishing in the river, you don't get payment? Protit.

== Yes we're paid, but that goes to feed our large family and to repay the mounting debt. Sorry there's nothing deserving food. so you must have discomfort to eat. If it was morning we could feed you fish prep.

== You won't understand Poolin, tonight we have savored the best sumptuous banquet in life. Protit admits.

Sarol seconds that with a nod.

Dear Life Debarrened Drear

.... Encircling the lamp fire all are sitting after dinner. Dark trees behind them. Dark water of river beside them. Somidh spins Bairagi: You look like a tantric.

== Right you're. Big bro knows tantra & mantra. Poolin discloses.

== Does the powers of tantra & mantra still work? Protit.

== You Kolkatans doubtlook at these. Once I also didn't inchurn my head in it. But babu, Bairaagi's observation =>.

Boiled in circumstances one has to obey

which is not to obey

== What was such circumstance that made you abide by the tantric charmic mantras? Somidh sniffs curiously.

== Like to hear? Bairagi sucks a long deep last puff of smoke to blow it off. Tacitly landscaping the introspection menternally for a while he slowly raises the curtain => Here I used to catch fish. and used to sing Baul songs. In my home at village I had some little piece of land of my own. there my wife used to cultivate. I would go there on holidays. going on smoothly. had no big wants.

Pause a bit

Then resumes >> A year before abruptly a neighbour came to me from village. What's the matter? He alarmed me some evil devi has blackjacked my wife. She can't be refrained from her hostility. You come sharp. I went there to watch my wife is within a prohibited circle, wearing necklace of rudraksha, draped in saffron red lined sari, burning big bindi of vermilion smeared in her temple, flaming looks, trident in hand \|/

.... Seeing me she breaks into trance dance of Tandav of destruction...I couldn't agnize my own wife babu...I got frightened.

.... He pauses to take a deep breathe. His rebellious unruly hair and beard playing with the wind. In his black eyes reflection of the trembling flame of kerosene lamp in the capricious wind, the deep chemystery of rivalrous tantric massmerism / gripping them. Traditional inhibitious India.

== Thereafter?

== Thereafter the house of my father's big brother is adjacent to our house. After the death of my parents, big uncle and his siblings' target are to grab our property somehow. I don't stay there in village for my job here. It is said—

If you remain far from your harvested land

others will reap the crops backhand

Just that happened. Only my wife stays there. We have no offspring. For that my wife is very unhappy. Yet she engages herself in cultivation, cattle and her deities and tit bits of taboos and prejudices. utilizing this impropertunity my big uncle and his sibs have deployed a tantric from Kamaksha. [Patch ? Kamakhya temple, regarded as one of the greatest center of the divine Shaktipith and a hub of Tantra and its practitioner tantriks, is situated at Kamagiri hill, near Guahati in Assam. It was rebuilt by the king Nara Narayan of Coochbihar in the early 17th century, after the destruction of the ancient temple in the previous century. The image of the builder is established here, but no image of the goddess Kamakhya, the young wife of Siva. Only her yoni, the symbol of creation is revered here. A natural source of water keeps the yoni always moistened. During Ambubachi festival the shrine remains closed for 3 days, believing the menstrual period of the goddess. And opened on the 4th day to start the rituals of the festival, before the devotees in large numbers. Source: Wonderer's Wordrobes]. That tantric tapped my wife by making her believe that if she follows the rituals and worships tantra as guided by him she would be impregnated to have a child. Thus the tantric bewitched her to partner him in his practice. Grafting some leaders of the village peers they reaped the corns of my land entirely. Fished my ponds and cutting off my trees at night they sold. Grabbing my land they farmed.

As I complained, the village heads opined—>

Even a robbing mob

not doing a wrong job!

My uncle, his daughter my cousin sis shouted me down—>

Land belonged not to your father

land belongs to who hath power

The broken sky fell on my head. I cajole my wife. But who cares? As she is becharmed by some evil goddess, she chases with trident on me ferociously. She countercharges me that I have been meddling hindrances so that she can't have child. I humbly request the peers, they slap me with charge sheet on the contrary => that they have inspected the land records to find out the land belongs to your big uncles'. And your wife has been demoralized. Remaining in the same village we will not tolerate these immoral sextravaganza of your wife. We too have to live with our wives and children here in the society. Either you yourself forsake your wife and get her out of this village or we will isolate you as outlaw. All of your prop will be confiscated.

== But the village nobles could have themselves driven your wife out of the village. Why they insisted you to do so? Protit intrajects.

== If the peers do it they have the fear of curse by the tantric yogi. If the vairavi lets loose the tantric to chant the mantra cursing the entire habitation of the village? Have they no such fear in their mind? He smirks.

.... Then restarts: The villagers stopped talking with me. And who showed sympathy in the open they too laughed off behind me. Who previously sided me also latched their mouth fearing backlash. Because now if they plead in my favor they have no profit, rather they will be harmed. I will be driven out of the village for sure.

The sly always ply to swing

with the change of directions of wind

Friends turn frenemy. Otherwise they'll have to face the music like me.

Taking a deep breath

==Then? Sarol.

.... Then I get no help but advices shower on me. Galore. for free. to settle the score with the uncle and village bosses, giving them up most of my prop in the village.

Advices are doled out freebies everywhere

You are to choose which to care or to spare

Some advices are badvices sadvices or madvices

.... So I go to Purulia town. There a crony of mine from my childhood is a clerk in the court. Hearing my tale he says => just see if it were somebody other than you, I'd advise him to start a suit and holding and delaying dallying the case we could milk money from the litigant lingering the case for a long time. But you being my friend from puerility, if you tell me I can start a case with my employer advocate. But that will be a costly affair for you and you won't gain. Because those who can purchase the village peers / they too can purchase judge barristers. Especially when your own wife is not in normal condition. Better you compromise with your uncle parting off a portion your prop.

Taking a deep breath

.... Then on the returnal way, I was menterrogating myself, overhauling whatta do what not to do, sitting in the railway station. Where to go? That time abruptly I met the Baul singer, my classlad in school Hriday Das, just out of the blue. He was my real mate. He gotta go to some folk fare / to sing there. Seeing me dampened he gradually pumped all hearthen grief out of me and advised => you know I'm just a minstrel singer, I can't comment on the charmic tantra & mantra of a tantric. I can only say you—kantakanaiba kantakam = you are to put out thorn only stinging a thorn. If you think this is the way so I'd tell you that I gotta visit a great tantric as I was then at Tarapith. Mahapran Bramhachari. He was fond of my song. But he can't be caught hold of easily. He practices sitting in the great crematorium. He lets nobody come near him at first. Drives out everybody with abusive languages. Chases to beat anybody with his hot coal tongs. But a maestro of mantra. If you go to him, he will get you out first. If he drives you out don't come back. Simply stomach his abuses and beatings. Then you have melodious voice. If you can charm him with your song, you will find the man at the core not bad at all. Simple as a child.

.... I took his name and went straight to his address at the well-known crematorium of Tara pith. Yes, what Hiday had said was right. At first abusive tongue. Then beating by hot tongs. Bearing all his hindrances at last I grease and please him by my melodious songs. He allows me the propertunity to serve him. After some time he puzzles me asking => then all your troubles due to your wife, isn't it? ... Some more time goes to make him fully satisfied on me. Then hearing my heartigo he says he doesn't ever go to another place leaving Tarapith excepting for pilgrimage—as that hinders his practice of tantra, yoga and meditation. Besides his tantra & mantra is for the benefit of people, not for harming them. But he at last buys this argument of mine that to prevent the abuse and devilization of tantra and mantra and such devilian tantrist, is also for the benefit of the people. Only for that reason some preventive measures are to be taken. So he sends with me one of his disciples to my village. Now he is my gurudeb. I'm an adherent of him and learning from him slowly. My guru is proficient in various witchcrafts like black magic, black art, sorcery, incantation &c. I'm his devotee.

== But did it serve your purpose? Protit.

== Of course to some extent. Arrowed ==>>> by the mantra of my guru at one wee hours of a day that tantrist of Kamakshya vapored with his bag and loadage. I day 2 cows in the cowshed of uncle died bitten by cobra. Then 1 day all fishes of the grabbed pond of mine, where uncles bred fish were seen floating dead on water being plagued. 1 day the left side of the uncle's body found paralyzed ... allover the village rocked. Shocked by the drumpeted hoax that whatever wrong done by the uncle & co, in that sin all the villagers shall be shoveled into earth by epidemic cholera ... my wife also recovering from the clutch of evil goddess. Amina Bibi, the panchayat boss who previously booed me, now address me as babu showing respect, calculating if she neglects the sentiment of the crowd of devotees in my house, she will definitely have to face the music in the next election. And freeing from the encroachers, my land and prop shall be returned after the harvest this year, she has promised, let's see what happens.

.... After resting for a while, he adds his heartistic prexperience => Babu,

If you want peace and bon heur

remaining blasé and unwanting

some will translate that as your weakness

and try to snatch your peace and happiness

until & unless they get the sign of your power

.... Concluding this he backtracks into his menternal world.

This self-extracted secreation of Udas Bairagi leads them to muted introversion for a while. After sometime to brush aside the mist of mystory to return to the normal flow, Protit proposes => Well, you're a baul singer, sing for us now. Poolin brings the single-string ektara for accompaniment. Bairagi's vivid avid melodic voice becharms everybody:

Dear human life debarrens

misreading scripture

Oh oblivious time unawares

misreading scriptures

dear human life debarrens

misreading scriptures

Yesterday it was flower ((()))

basking in beauty and fragrance

Today it is only a skeleton

Tomorrow it will be dust

Dear human life debarrens

misreading scriptures

On time none can realize

When people cognize

time works seize

erasing all at ease

Dear human life debarrens

misreading scriptures

Lidless Night Restless Plight

.... Ending his harmonic and heartmonic song Bairagi again turns back to his internatural silence under the tree. Poolin blows off the lamp. The trio tries to sleep in their room. tiny room. dismal. no window. blocked. chocked air. hot. stuffy. stuffocating. grand banquet of mosquitoes. Here the heterovorus man is not the eater but the rechauffe for mosquitos. The mosquito repellant rubbed in their body doesn't repel but now liberally invites the mosquitoes to suck their blood at ease. In the torn-string single cot the duo Protit in length and Sarol in breadth can't bedjust. In dark Sarol is lidless. Scaring to be wrapped by creepers, that is incoming snakes from the adjoining abandoned room. As if he is in the vortex of dreadening age of snakes. One time while slumbering he falls aground slipping through the hole of torn ropes. And he groans in the delusion of bitten by snake. Protit and Somidh holds him up to let him lie on the cot again. Searching by his pencil torchlight Protit batters him: Where's snake? Dreamagining? Shit. Sleep. Somidh somehow sitting in that fragile and highly volatile destructured chair. Stinged. constantly by mosquitoes. yet sitting still. without slightest movement. One time the single handle of the chair slides down. If he moves slightly then the loosely jointed parts of the chair will be unraveled. Then he won't be able to sit also. In sombreland he introverses himself the amazing stories of Bairagi. The traditional internatural immobile India outside the purview of techknowledge, argument, evidence and provement.

At last they end their travails of lidless warm night in the room without window. As—

Night may be tidy long

Yet dawn breaks bright along

.... Again eternity of the returnity of morning. To get up from bed etc, &c, et al. Another day of bright sundom. But to them nothing special about it. Everyday they are seeing this sunny day hereover the planet. Rather it would have been better if the weather were cloudy. Then the rage of sunray would have been lesser now. The ideal picpost card type big basin of water also is not attracting them as it did terra incognita a few days ago. Seeing the same pics day by day they are adjusted to it. All the charms of this place misappear to them and some disinterest about this sublime scenerama crops up. Though tomorrow will be their / last day stay here. Before that if there concerns some new interest in some quarter—in that hope wo/men travel on their worlden road map to live & relive & relieve.

.... Prepared to leave now they notice the dark cryptic tree under which they sat yesterday is just an innocuous cluster of giant papaya trees, under which on the clay alter today also sitting ascetic Udas Bairagi like yesterday. stagnant. aplomb. watching them going out he has no reaction. no motion. no emotion. he offers no welcome. no farewell. Somidh observes the place minutely and goes on piction spree. Bairagi in white dhoti worn like lungi, white kurta, disheveled long hair and beard. click with him. He is told => You have given food and shelter last night to us, completely strangers to you. For that we're grateful to you. And though it can't be repaid back to you, still if we're pleased to give a token price to satisfy ourselves, how much should we give?

The overcalm Bairagi is responseless.

Again the same question repeated.

The aplomb Bairagi is responseless.

Again the same question repeated.

The blasé Bairagi is responseless.

Again the same question repeated.

The indifferent Bairagi in unatouched voice monologues from his scanty wordrobe => Just 1 rupee if you wish.

Astounded by his utterance of the scrimpy amount, they insist to give him more and at last somehow push a 2 rupees note in his hand and simply elude their holiday inn at that place hurriedly, so that the oblivious, undesirous Bairagi cannot return it to them anymore.

Tame Dame By Charmic Mantra

.... But advancing a few steps abruptly Sarol thinks something to halt: You proceed toward the ferry ghat, I'm coming back in a minute asking a word from Bairagi. As the duo advances Sarol goes back to Bairagi to ask him posing a bit ashamed: Hey, you know many tantra & mantra, would you kindly pass me a taming mantra—yea, by which I can contame a girl?

== Babu, not so easy, Bairagi utters in amazement, there're certain ways and rituals in practice; if you won't obey and follow the rites accurately it's of no use, rather it would backfire.

== Still, please accord me at least one, nothing as harmful to me or to another, yet she can be tamed.

.... After being requested several times, Bairagi relents => what's the name of that girl?

== Lipi.

== Then write down —> "Om raktachamunde Liping me bashmanoy swaha. Om hring hroung hung fat".

—if thou hummeth this mantra 10 k times thy lover canst be aloof from ye. She would cometh around the hummer and falleth at thy feet.

.... Getting the mantra romance and womance seeker Sarol thanks him again for the freebie and gladly bids him adieu to be gladieu. Now I've gotcha ye under my clutches Lipi, my honey. Where shalt thou misappear? Ye calleth me tomfool. Now thou wilt be paid back. Thus thinketh he advanceth toward the ferry ghat. Thither yells rovile phonomenon in his pocket, he touches to view Protit's message:

hurry back playboy, b4 ferry to start now

.... Sarol runs to reach the ferry ghat while chanting mantra.

Fish With Care Or Miss Unaware

.... But whence Sarol is imbibed in muttering mantra, he canst not know what is happening in his unaware in his world rapidly that time:

.... his college coed Pia. has gifted chocolate in bon homie to his handsome contender Bijoy. And has embodied dance with him nightlong at the Hullor bar — his younger sis Sandra is now returning home from the tutorial — his mom now thinketh where her good son is now what he is doing what he eating and again falling in womance in which mantra with which mantrap? —his dad resolveth his son is again gone to mischief-making. so no more, just after the graduation he will thrust him into the family business — in Haru's shop of his locality all the chop fries have been sold out— satellites have been en route outmosphere to Saturn moon mercury mars on scheduled tacit errands and the space scientists remotely censoring them — at Dalal Street the losing brokers are splitting hairs glued on scorched screen — in Buenos Aires the lulu is entering the toilet — under the Sahara desert the remnants of wise fragile skele of 3k years old has been sleeping — in his home depot his Pandora's box is filled con amore with honey mail and kiss :-*

(((((((((((()))))))))))

C o s m o s p h e r E 1 D e a r s p h e r E

1.19

Chapter 19: Rifting Times

Today's Friend Tomorrow's Frenemy

.... At the ferry ghat Subol And Chatur's heartistic smiley welcome => Why didn't you come yesterday?

.... We came but late. You're gone. So we stayed the night at Bairagi's place. Protit's explanation.

.... Protit preckons if he could live the whole life here simply with these simpletons! ... But next moment he preconciles...... No that is unpossible. In Kolkata there is much more propertunity & facility of citizens to earn money power and establish oneself. How that can be had here? Will he be able here to gain his dreamdom of ample money fame power and establishment? Implausible. Besides it seems charmic, as it is new; but tomorrow in karmic situations if he lives here for a long time continuously that feel good will be vapored. Then this feel good will be like a barrier.

May be today's friend will be tomorrow's frenemy.

Cut to

.... Proscene: Big sis Didi's shop. beside the river. breakfasting Sarol Protit Somidh Subol Chatur. tea, crude biscuit, sweet ball laddu, muri. Protit paying. Beside the shop fishermen's boat and net resting in the sun.

After fishing, the boat and net rest

The caught fishes everrest

Cut to

Proscene: Sunny welcome by Adhir at the forest rest house. Keeping aside the sacs and formal apparels here the trio zooms to the river for bath. Protit and Somidh get down in the water. Swim. but Sarol is only an onlooker here. he is unaware how deep water is in this confluence. so he doesn't want to get into troubled waters in spite of Protit and Somidh's assurance. he cools his head and face by sprinkling water by hand and wipes by hanky. then watch them swimming and bathing sitting pensively on the bank. Oh, dispensing of his nighttheque chums and gfs adda, delicious funtastic feast and fiesta music and dance, here in this remote hamlet no delicious food. no adequate sleep. this madmaniac marathon hiking. bathing in river. imbibing mahua. moontasy / how long would you like this ecstasy? Moreover the xtravacant bizarre script writing dreama for some oddventure flop film—spoil homesick Sarol's days. But yes. Only 1 gain. To be acquainted with Lipi. That night he sexperienced how funtastic the topography of her figure is! Great features. Scandalous curbs. She will be enrolled in a Kolkata college in the coming session. If he can grease her he can have her company and funtasy dance music and everything with great éclat with her then...... As of now he figures out menternally if he can return to Abas hostel, he might be able to spend the evening funnatically romancing & womancing with the women — of course if they're back to Abas by this time. He opts a chance. No pain no gain. But yes Lipi is a mischief. To tame her by bocabulary isn't easy...... Eh, he has to mutter the mantra for 10k times! How many times it was uttered? He has completely forgotten! He again reads the mantra de novo from the slip of paper kept in his pocket:

Om raktachamunde Liping me bashmanoy swaha.

Om hring hroung hung fat.

Cut to

.... Proscene: Big sis Didi's shop. The trio's lunch. Menu: rice. sour juice of green tamarind. river fish curry. Oh wretched river fish / why did you hang out on this side / to be in the dish?

~(.)~~~

~(.)~~~ ~(.)~~~

Didi => nothing more could be arranged babu. bazaar is far off from here. Also this ain't the weekly day for bazaar.

.... They eat silently. This trifle food is of no match for the rich man's dearly son Sarol. He floats his sour decision => tonight I won't be stayin' here. returning to Abas. Somidh can read him all time properly from his prexperience. So he isn't amazed. But Protit is baffled. He attempts to refrain him form his mistance. Failing he is piqued. At last he tells Somidh: Ok, ferrying to the other side I'm tagging along him to some distance on his returnal way to Abas and backing here in sometime. You stay back at the rest house. Somidh returns to the rest house. His jaded eyes seized by the torpor of rice-sleep.

.... Rising from sleep in the twilight Somidh finds none in the rest house. He is alone. In his vacant room only the dancing garrulous sparrows and magpies.

He looks at the river thru window. [~~||~~]

In the confluence a few boats plying scattering nets.

On 1 side of the water an area is fenced with bamboo poles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

||####||####||####||####||####||

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is trap. To welcome fishes.

.... It is a wonder in this large world he is alone. Everybody has deserted him. Actually that happens. Who accompanies whom from the birth point to the death point? So Somidh cogitates his destiny and destination.

Any real artist has to go alone on his own way.

Everyone's path at last is only his/her

You can be who you are

only not being who you notare

Nobody shown me >> this way

Nobody said me go >> this way

Nobody to assist me >> this way

When looked after by none

yet mark me manyone

If I err by a hair they'll blatantly show

how faulty is >> this way

If I pause they'd say >> see his cease!

Treading alone on this worlden thrufare

sometimes I found cohort on the way

Some assorted me for sometime

,, escorted me a bit far

<< then back tracked on own trail

Everyone's path at last is only his/her

You can be who you are

only not being who you notare

.... Once Moortiman was also with him. this time he was unavailable. where he gone? Who can consort one all through the time — mother father brother sister friends bf gf husband wife <— everybody is flocked together just for a period of time —> then disjointed — it may be from the world. Some leaves early some after sometime more — but must be disjointed. Come alone and depart alone. What's new in it? So in the way of life somebody may tag along with other to cover certain distance. Not more than that. Then separation. But the path one can cover / with one another/ is worthwhile to some and unworthwhile to other. Sarol deserted as of now. He has information that Protit will leave their unit for good. And though Protit has concealed to Somidh but he is informed that Protit too surreptitiously creating subdivision among the unit wanting to dismantle it, before leaving the unit, citing difference of principle, but actually having caustic egotica syndrome. Though on the surface showing as if nothing has happed! They have born with silver spoon in mouth. So the demand for money power establishment and fame is in their blood — which Somidh won't be able to provide them if they cohort him—so they think they have no future here. Still in student life they want to garner here whatever they get + to harvest the warmth of some excitement, they want stay here in this unit for sometime more for a short stint, before entering in their careers. Protit has appeared for the MBA exam. After passing out he'd bag highly paid employment and desert the group this is an open fact. Meanwhile he's been hawking himself to be projected by the glare of propagandist medias, being a shadow of Amit Bol, a self styled cheerleader of a media. Keeping good terms with Somidh outwardly, Amit Bol has engaged Protit and Sarol surreptitiously to disband Somidhs' group and all its members to join his group — this info has been tipped off to Somidh by a rival of Protit in Amit's group. And that Protit's been using Sarol as a shield to affront, keeping himself embedded behind him. These bothers in aid of Protit slip from the works of the unit in the plea of their status of student and work for other groups for money or some other advantage. yet when their own unit is commended by some others or by the press, they don't forget to drumpet it as their own credit.

.... When he is wrongly discredited by Protit or Sarol he is amazed but not perturbed. He thinks he himself never humbled or belittled anybody to pose himself larger — but why some contemptporary persons considering him their bete noire, want to dwarf him to pose themselves larger than life? He scans the enigma nonchalantly to discover >> this ain't a new prob. All through the ages the propertunity hunters always enter like an earthworm and exits like a muskrat. It is said in the Mahabharat: The fire originates in wood to devour it. So he'll like to see if it'd blaze up or it'll just end in smoke? And if it fires up then he wants to see in the abominable fire, let everything detritus burn out to destructure to be filtered and purified again to reform and restructure. With that pure material he again will architext his unfinished works in his envisaged principles and ways de novo. So he reflects at the problem =>

View a problem as a propertunity

to fix the flaw & claw and reassess

how to tackle future greater crisis

.... Hence as at present he does nothing in this matter and only keeps the option open to come and go for beautilization in future. Because he knows:

Any way = if it is truly a way

Then it should have at least 2 directions open

1 can go through it > < and come back

go & come & come & go & go & come & come & go

But if the road is open one way and closed other way

confused and pot holed, then it ain't road

It is blind cul de sac in the name of way

Traveler is in boundage in each step on that alley

Free way is open day & night full of flight

thru which one can come from any way

or ply away ventre a' terre any time or sway

come & go & go & come & come & go &go & come

Fishes Out of Swarms Back to Swarms

Shift of scene

Somidh standing outside the room on riverside. Pin points the ferryboat on the other side. The size increases gradually. The passengers form contours. Protit's tall slim figure. Fair complexioned. Bushy hair frequenting on his eyelids in riverian air. In blue jeans pant shirt.

Slow motion

Protit waving hand at him from afar.

Enter Protit

Protit.=> Accompanied Sarol up to Pareshnath temple. Saw him very aggravated. Blurting out he'd desert the unit.

Somidh.=> Yes, he can leave or we can expunge him out as an abandonware. Either of the 2 or both might happen.

.... {Protit menternally soliloquizes => Mr. Somidh, before you dispense with us, not only Sarol or me, your whole unit will be decomposed as I'm arranging so that everybody leaves you in the lurch. I've pact with Amitda — if we can wreck your group and enroll in his group he will give us good break in the media he works for. There galore fame / publicity. money. glam. ..... dumping all the glare what interest we have to hear your manufractured lecture? Everything of you is plagiarized from abroad. I've all the proof. I've procured all the ammo against you. Your letters—even my cooked writing I've made you copying in your handwriting unwarrantedly — so that it can be proved at ease against you that it is your writing and not mine. Everybody will be stunned if I rip the bomb. Your verbosity I'd turn to ashes. I'm a joint signatory of the bank account of the unit which I'll stop signing so that you can't withdraw money for the group. Besides in the souvenirs or newspapers where the critics were about to give you a raving review, I've deleted them or have got the writers to dilute them to make you unimportant before you could know. Apart from that we in our student life in some curiosity or to make fun and to cash on some easy fame or in excitement by some momentary mistake entered your group no doubt but — but not to be your servant. We're not your tamed slaves. Now after passing out MBA I'll get ample propertunity for good jobs in the country or abroad. And after getting employment I'll destroy your unit — I won't go alone I'll escape taking all other lieutenants with me. And I'll publish the rift exposing all your misdeeds. ......}

Again coming out of his menternal prolog, he repeats =>: Nope, he'll quit. 'cause he says we're hardworking for the unit and all the credit goes to you. So he will quit. In fact everybody else will be able to quit, only you won't. 'cause all the scheming and ideology of the group is of yours. You're the ideologue here.

Somidh's prompt response => You're to some extent right here. I will not. As —

The whale cannot swallow the sea

where it does dwell

.... So who deserts s/he lives. Hence no need to his hardwork for us. Enough is enough. I don't need alms, only hold your dog. Floodwater has demaged us much. 'twas a blunder to let it enter.

Protit=> Why did you let it enter?

Somidh=>

On seeing a cucumber

to all it seems better

Is it not after tasting only

can be said if a cucumber is bitter?

Now the sooner they drain out the better. This difficult way isn't for them.

Fishes out of swarms melt into swarms

At times floodwater with swarms of young fishes

in hot pursuit of propertunity in a rush

gush into a forbidden bight ~(.)~~~

Hunting combing & dredging for sometime

in such an indefinite abstruse water they ramble

otiose to win and gain in rapid gamble

~~~It's far better in the main s~t~r~e~a~m~~

dangling as a buff of mega waves

awards hangout to milk copiously

just grease to please & wheedle whimsy boss

s/he can sail & sway with the favorable wind

to swell one day into a big gun without loss

over & above bagging extra reward

So water retreats to welling side hiding qualms

Fishes out of swarms melt into swarms

Secerned quest in quirky intense waves is futile

To win escape following the usual route

polluting and spraying curse & clay

recreant with the formal opaque water worms

Fishes out of swarms melt into swarms

.... Somidh again retorts => If there's fame, it's my fame only? Ok, and if there's defame? Then it's also only of mine. This dialogue isn't Sarol's, but some other lead voice embedded covert there — that may be whoever's voice — first it was said —> my/our way is bizarre and awkward — then it was said these experimentations had already been done before, so it has no importance and people shall not at all be benefited by it. But now my principles, theories, applications and used names, have been misused by them changing just the names given by me, demanding these are their discoveries and yet whining whatever fame is there, it's my fame only? In William James's writing we get the mention of this type of psyche: First a new theory is attacked as absurd, then it is admitted to be true, but obvious and insignificant. Finally it seen to be so important, that its adversaries claim they themselves discovered it.

== No it's not me, Sarol said that he has many weapons. When he will leave he will leak the arcane out, drumpeting on the mart.

Giving no reply Somidh as if searches something looking all over in the ground...

== What are you looking for?

== Rathole, Somidh's enigma.

== Rathole? What to do with rathole!

== This much that I was so scared to hear the arcane to be leaked out in the open mart. So I'm looking for the rat hole to hide myself!

Somidh's sarcasm slaps him that his misfire is a faux pas — Somidh isn't intimidated at all. Protit mutes. Somidh's addition=> That signals before deserting he wants to sabotage and destruct the group. But who quits never wins. Who wins never quit. So well he wanna leak the esoterica out drumpeting on the mart. But when he'd leak out? The sooner he crops up leaks the better benefit will be a harvest for us.

At times even flung out sandal or scandal

is more desirable than medal

== What's the profit?

== Once Oscar Wilde remarked — The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about. So I'll benefit if you unlid can of bugs bashing me, which would spark a debate, and nothing sells more than controversy.

Remain debatable

to stay relevant and abetable

for more sometimes

.... Otherwise we are unknown to people as we can't grease the bosses of medias, there's no publicity hype for us. So if somebody initiates to open the can of worms spraying the ink or link of scandal, some arguments flaring up the spotlight of controversy on us and we're publicized, even if negatively.

For this I'd thank my adversaries. So if they don't burst the worm bomb, it's our loss. 'cause haven't you seen the negative publicity attracts more than the positive one? haven't you heard the proverb:

Whatever little ye can recover

from the blazing shanty is better.

== But yr reputation will be tarnished?

Somidh laughs off: The naked has no fear of being burgled. If I had fame then I'll have fear for defame. Black spots in moon brighten the moonlight. Molten base-metal mix makes gold embellish. And what they will break? They might wreck the unit but they can't break me, as —>

It is said to be easy to break a big thing

My ideas are a small thing by all means

So long I myself don't crack

nobody'll be able to shake or break

== But if your group wrecks what else will remain?

== How long? How many times??

First they overlook us

Next they trifle us

,, they ruffle us

,, they grave us

wherefrom we brave up

.... Well, from the ashes I/we'll emerge like the phoenix and create and germinate the seeds of new possibilities of the new age. And when I won't remain in that newer age to come, newer unique creators shall create newer types and forms of novel creations. So as of now for our probable destructors and distractors I extend my good wishes + gratitude. Because their deserters' revengeful attitude on me/us have indirectly enabled me to enhance my resistance power to sustain survive and win over the treachery and adverse situation erected by them — which otherwise might not have been possible for me to attain. Hence I pray for our destructors may their souls rest in peace.

== No I didn't say these, Sarol was telling so i have dished this before you. Protit shruggs off his responsibility.

== Why telling me? He's yours antic import. Yours disciple. Your goat you may cut at the tail or at the throat. You're his guru.

.... Hearing the title guru he's pleased because his importance is raised. But Protit grins and conveys his fake objection => What you say! my disciple? No–no he isn't my follower fan rather you can say him my brother.

.... Somidh's unpretentious straight hit.=> Hey bro, what is called perched rice the same whatchamacallit is named muri. So you may call it in whatsis name>>> follower > adherent > pursuer > fan > aficionado > stooge > chaser > devotee > disciple > shadow > parasite > satellite > buff > groupie, it is just a journey from maximal to minimal. And the clevers minimize the importance of others toujours by any bluff & huff or any fair or foul means to raise their own prominence. Therefore you also would continue to hold on your grip / guardianship, friendship by any bluff & puff on the followers no wonder in it.

== Really you can make things manufracture — it is very risky to utter something to you juggling somehow Protit steers the ball clear off by cover drive to the over boundary — But you must commend Sarol's example of Bay of Bengal that night!

== Really funtastic! Charmic!!

Buy & Sell Of Dreama On Riverside

.... Big sis Didi's shop. evening. adda at tea. Didi's house 3 miles from here. husband daily laborer. having no land of own => Babu, prepared a new item for you, try this singara with hing (asafetida).

.... Oh, Hingara! Bah bah wow! Sarol'd love this.

Didi's husband when he has work many a days he doesn't go to work simply boozing out — then you've to push him to go to work — but many a times he doesn't budge — that's why this shop is floated — 5 heads to be fed in the family babu — how 5 heads? — we 2 we've 2 siblings — my daughter in class VI and son in class IV and this girl is my sis in law — how the shop sells? — whatever little sell from morning to evening during the time of ferrying from the travelers who cross ferry here — the ferry is closed and we're closed — after the evening we close the shop and go home.

== You've set up shop here, this place belongs to you?

== No babu it's government's.

== So they won't displace your shop?

== Eh, Didi raises her hood, who'd evacuate me? — let them come who has how many heads on his shoulder? — don't I shell out weekly graft to cops? Don't I dish out ransom to the partisan extortionists? Have we no trade union? Don't we vote for them?

== Of course when you gift + graft + vat + vote them then who'd deplace you?

.... Shop is about to close for tonight. Kerosene flame swaying back and forth in the riverain wind. Trembling. The sis in law packs their dinner in green shal leafs in carry bag with care. Either Somidh or Protit or both of them converse with her.

== Hey lassie, what's your name?

== I ain't lassie, my name is Nody.

== Bah, wonderful name! That means a river by the river!

== Ok Nody do u read?

== Any other way sans reading big bro? I read in class IX.

Now Didi adds => With the govt aid for girls' we can let her read. when we'll not be able to continue her more studies, then we will marry her off.

Nody protests => No I'll not marry, I'll read more.

== Right. u should study more, Protit & Somidh supports.

== But your working in shop not hampering your studies?

== No, my exam over this morning. You've come from Kolkata big bro? Nody asks swinging her tress.

== Yea, you know Kolkata? Protit / Somidh.

== Yes, been there twice.

== Twice?

== Yea, the partisans send us there twice to hear the lectures of the leaders on the fort ground. Once by train. Once by their bus. We didn't have to pay a farthing for that. Conveyance and food free. Over and above we who went there to hear lecture were paid by the politicos on our return to home.

== How were the lectures?

== When could we hear? That time we seen the zoo, museum, Victoria, ship on the Ganga...and so many things. Oh ffather so crowdie! So many people light palaces so much noise ... sparkling marvel in her eyes.

== Oh ffather you've seen so much of Kolkata — we haven't seen living there — you know so much of Kolkata — we haven't known staying there.

.... Being more enthusiastic Nody bubbles.=> Not only that, just in the morning I've written in details about Kolkata in my exam from my memory, should I repeat—? She babbles ...

.... Besides as it is known from the chronicles of Wanderer's Wordrobes that one time capital of India and then known as the crownless cultural capital of India, there are so many remarkable places to visit, advantages and beauty galore, funtertainment spots for hanging out galore, spots for detainment and derailment galore, problems galore, spots for upliftment of anybody galore, ways of sliding down toward hell many many more...

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C o s m o s p h e r E 1 D e a r s p h e r E

1.20

Chapter 20: Drifting Times

Moontastic Riverea

.... After diner Protit and Somidh sitting on the riverbank. Water of the river atouches them. No boat is seen now due to the prohibition on boating at night on the river. No ray of light visible near or far. Only in the confluence rushing and flowing huge load of swashing water. Besides the duo, no trace of any other people near and far there. In that riverea they are the 2 misfit trespassers. riverian sincere zephyr. In this watery outmosphere the duo are absorbed in the discourses of their work. Exacting the plausibility of piction of appropriate scene event dialogue on this place. Especially Chatur, Subol, Naachni, drummer, Swaha, Shrota, Lipi, Udas Bairagi, Boudi —. the characters and this confluence, forest rest house —. these are recurrently surfacing and resurfacing and drifting in their preconciliation. They will take final decision regarding this after seeing their still and movimages back in kolkata. Menternally Somidh is prepared for the impending break. So he wants to watch and see. Then he will decide his future course of action. He is also toying the idea to disband the group and switch over to his original wishlist to be a painter, where he will be able to persue his art quite independently, without being bothered and hindered by anybody. Besides filmsy work talks don't match this moment here. As there is mammoth moon boosting up the momentum.....

.... Always alwhere moon. In vision varied moon. moon on river. on current. in firmament. in sylva. on trees. on branches on twigs. on hill. on dale. on road. in deroad. on field. in flower. on creeper. on ground. on stone. in food. in expression. in their eyes. in life. in mind. moon in bottle. moon in ripples. moon on resplendence.

.... Somidh recalls he has booked a plot of land in the moon. The reflected light of that piece of land may be fused in this moonlight. In that wild moontastic night, word of work is totally irrelevant. Rather the eonian vision is more plausible here in this regard.

== Look, word of filmsy work totally misfits here now. You please start singing, Protit articulates guzzling a raw sip from the mahua bottle. He needs not to dilute it with water. But Somidh mocktails water. Like the previous occasions Subol & Chatur also appeared today with a bottle of pure mahua and gulping a few sips, disappeared in the evening to somewhere they wished. Besides the babus are no more strangers. So the babus can't be given time everyday.

== Which song u wanna ear?

== Like to hear the Naachni's and Chatur's songs but —

== Ok listen.

== Strange you've got the hang hearing only once!

He soaks up the mohuarista slowly.

Somidh taciturnly starts having a sip lento......

Ending songs for a while Somidh adjourns. But Protit prevents him to madjourn=> don't stop until ending all these songs. Oh whatta karmic lyrics! whatta charmic tune!!

Then......

Ceasing song Somidh rests a while.

== Amazing you haven't forgot the beats of the drummers! Protit's lento remark. Immediately he requests: Ok do u remember Bairagi's song? Somidh recovering the wording of Bairagi's song......

Now break. 'll be back soon. Don't go.

.... Whence Somidh and Protit are preoccupied in redeeming the musical riverberance, that time also remaining behind the backdrop, playing the role of a huge catalyst to invigorate their already euphoric mind— is the overcalm beaming moon—> which is also known in different names in different regions of the world. [Patch => Moon = Chandra (Bangla, Sanskrit, Hindi......), Candra (Indonesian), Luna (Latin, Spanish, Italian), Badr (Arabic), Yue (Chinese), Sin (Sumerian), Iah (Egyptian), Lua (Portuguese), Lune (French), Pamuya (Hopi Amerindian), Mahina (Hawaian), Marama (Polynesian), Mond (German), Nguyet (Vietnamese), Maan (Dutch)...... Source: Wonderers Wordrobes].

According to Ptolemy moon is both auspicious and inauspicious. Because of its vicinity to earth, with its change it canst vastly aggravate the wo/men and the manimal world physically and at sentimental level. Whilst wo/men can control to a great extent this affected grosspective level of sensitivity and exaggerated emotion by their habitual wont of wisdom and intelligence. Jaimini observeth => Chandreno sankhojogagno: sahityayagno gayakaswa, meaning moon favoreth the specialists in Sankhayoga literati and singers. Sankhayayoga flavoreth the union between man and woman and influenceth over the six ripus (enemies) and menternal world.

Break ends, Somidh's song starts

At the end of the song Somidh stops. Protit gushes pumping out from the core of his heart => Really very touchy music lyrics & tune. The core extracts from the heartmosphere. If we can utilize a few selected songs from this bunch, people will definitely appreciate. Because of easy and noncomplicated flock tunes and lyrics. Well now let me hear some of the basic songs in this sequence, Protit bespeaks.

Break. Backing soon. Don't decamp. Stay tuned

.... Stillness. Faraway on the water there seems an isle in the moontasy. A flock of moontastic cawing crows flights to that trajectory ...... From some remote place a faint glint of distant music turning up intermittently. Again evaporating in the air. May be somewhere is going on some country opera or musical soiree. May be there are present Chatur and Subol.

Break ends. Resurfaces Somidh's song

As the sexotic heart adorns

on forehead the dot of vermillion

likewise in the effaced shadow on the riverghat

you dip

you dip into the deep as algae

The negative hearterrain colored in saffron

If you too turn your heart off from me

tell me my mind is eagre

In this worlden field wide open

to whom shall I go?

Break. Backing soon. Hang on. Stay tuned

Perpetual Transcendental Horizon

.... Stillness. The mute river basin. Solitary. Untrotten. Unearthly. Background music by chirring crickets. Rocumentary of napping mountstones. Faded far embellished hedge of hillocks. On the stream ripples the virtual riveria of moonatic ornamental beaming. The feisty dreamdom in the world as far as the look hunts. Call of the mesmeric Nox.

Break ends. Resurfaces Somidh's song

Beside the shadowy mystic refreshing watery lake

like the explorer ancient aryans

vying to set up settlements

I've changed the salty ports at times

+

Swimming over Gobi Kalahari Sahara Savannas

in my afflicted dream mouthful of blood oozing

Now at the end of lifelong tournival

my dreamistress, where're you leading me on

to the perpetual transcendental h-o-r-i-z-o-n!

.... At the end of the glissandos again they are confiscated by the all-pervasive swashing mesmeric resplendence. elapses some time / they comeback to their rhyme / at the sharp twitter of bird. from which tree? From that far isle? which kind of bird? very high-pitched twitting. so might be a big bird. do the birds hinting any message regarding them? do they wanna say => Thou killer men, on what errand thou havest entered into our domain and ransacking our peace? Stay back. Or they are signaling reverse lookup => Oh the sons of honey heaven, thou art welcome in this dreamdom of peace and tranquility. On your return journey thou carry our message of best wishes for all wo/man and animates. Or they're just expressing their love to their counterparts. After some call and responses the birds cease. Again silence. At last breaking the silence Protit begins to critically apprise his propinion on the songs sung by Somidh.

For details call Helpline: 000111222333

.... Somidh is scatty about Protit's propinion on his songs tout ensemble. He notices meanwhile the mahua magnum is empty. Picking up the empty bottle he abruptly goes a bit far towards upstream then filling the bottle a little with water and corking it floats the bottle touching the shore.

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.... Then quickly retreats to their spot ...

The dancing bottle maneuvers through streams gradually crosses the place where they are sitting....... A few steps forward Protit now picks up the bottle from the water and heading further upstream away releases the bottle like Somidh in the water ripples.

The dancing bottle as the replica of the drifting times, swayed by drifting currents gradually traverses the place where they are sitting....... A few steps ahead Somidh picks up the bottle from the water and going upstream further more away releases the bottle in the water, so that it takes more time for the bottle to cross their sitting spot.

.... Then he enjoins => Suppose like olden days someone or some lovesick woman from Africa or Latin America corking up the bottle with a note of love for beloved and floated it downstream...and then you read it lifting it up from the water — is it not womantic? Floating at a stretch on the unending supranatural horizons?

== How can it reach from such a distance as Latin America? Conversely what would be route for the drifting bottle to reach there?

== Why? >This river where it has mixed in the bigger river? >> Suppose in the Rupnarayan or Ganga. then flowing thru Ganga to sea >>> that means Bay of Bengal so to say in the Indian Ocean from there carried away by ocean currents of >>>>Atlantic or Pacific ocean might reach the shores of >>>>>Latin America and by reverse lookup < on the same way, or on the same track used by << Olive Ridley turtles reach the shores of Bay of Bengal to lay eggs, the drifting bottle might reach you <<< if it is not hindered on the midway. Possibility might be one in a trillion — in reality it might be implausible, but can't be said altogether impossible....

To know more call Helpline: 000111222333

.... As far as visible the bottle coming to their spot like a pet bird hopping on the rhythm of waves ...... Somidh grins => Just see still you've propertunity—if u like leave a note for somebody in the bottle and cork up it to release in the current. Protit shows no interest only laughs off.

The tramp bottle approaching them as a dancing pet bird being offended for not getting any reception food or attention from them this time, bids them adieu in sad sadieu for ever and leaving them bon voyages towards far and afar away........the duo gazing at the receding magnum as if their departing friend being dragged by currents of drifting time to fade out into oblivion being a point toward the river mouth......in the perpetual transcendental horizon.

Anybody awake for you?

.... To think of the river mouth—Mohana — Somidh's one-time confidante's face zooms in the radar of his nomad mind. Now he can perceive, due to recedence of mutual needs he has by now gradually reached out to such irrecoverable distance from her as the far off river mouth...... This time Somidh + Protit = the duo has evolved out of talking to silence. Only burbling of water. After a while they rise and amble. Find out cut out dry branches of tree to make their stick. Raising sticks like baseball bats they whip in the air to rule the now-lone riverside ......

Who goes ......... who goes there?? Somebody goes there really? Who wakes? ... who wakes at deadnight?? Really somebody wakes? Really somebody is qui vive. on this side and that side?

Does anybody wake for you?

Is anybody awake for you?

Then your life gets to fulfeel

You've nothing better

to expect from anywhere

The Yoga of Times Viper

.... Babu, babu —. Anxious call. Worried face. Protit's sleep disrupts to look up and decipher the face: O Adhir you! I've slept here! oh it's morning already. we have to track back. where's Midhda? we were here at night. gosh, he's gone to catch the moon in the water? and conk out like the olden Chinese poet Li Poe?

== Hi there, 1 body lying there! Let's check out. If bitten by snake then finished —

== Oh s-n-a-k-e! Protit shivers!

Before Adhir's reply Somidh jump rises up

== Where's snake, whose snake? Somidh quires.

Without laughing or saying anything Adhir retreats a few yards back taking them. This is approximately that place where yesternight they saw their junk bottle to be finally carried away by the currents to be faded like a black dot into the horizon of times. Now in this early morning like that same place a few hands distance from the water a giant viper lying whacked to death. glowing blackish ash colored. its slither, hiss & swash silenced. forever.

== Destiny Babu destiny. Only due to the piousness of your parents it couldn't reach you. Venomous viper. It's touch means death. Two-faced? Who killed it? It would live if it could touch water. They watch. Somidh reckonciles..

S

All is like the 2 faced serpent.. S

< 1 face is toward the dead past

the other is toward the future >

to fare forward

.... Somewhere sounds the cock's crow. How far the drifting bottle has reached by now?

To know more call Helpline: 000111222333

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C o s m o s p h e r E 1 D e a r s p h e r E

1.21

Chapter 21: Rearsphere Dearsphere

Shifting Times

.... The same fare forward. That same cockcrowing early morn version like everywhere. In that odd time Adhir's cordial farewell to the duo leaving from his holiday inn, feeding them lukewarm fresh milk arranged from where who knows? His reluctance to accept any payment from them. Adhir's request to Somidh-Protit duo to come here again. Chatur and Subol ferrying them to the other side of the river. Again asking them to come here again=> Come here during the fair it will be fun.

In spite of repeated requests to them by the duo, their denial of taking any money — all these are not boiled but itself thick & tepid like the milk offered to them warmheartedly by Adhir to drink! The Somidh-Protit duo reaches the Abas hostel.

Jump cut

Sarol => Yesterday Swaha Shrotadi & Lipi were looking for you.

Protit => So aromantic time you spent in funtasy with the jeune filles I presume. How far u've progressed with Lipi?

== If u were here you could also have womantic hour in bon heur with the women....

Proscene

.... They are waiting beside the river Dwarakeswar after visiting in and around places near Ekteswar temple. The Sarol-Protit-Somidh trio stationed at a roadside tea stall. There is still sometime more to wait for the bus to arrive at this stoppage. Somidh is scripting his vade mecum. Before that they have visited to weigh the option if the king's depleted palace at Ambikanagar could be a location for their etude. It is just as any old palace. by the riverside. ruining for want of care and preservation. burdened by gorgeous history and hardened by it's current mistory. dysphoric. scanty water. only foot-deep water to ford over to the other side of the river. Protit is now jotting down the expenditure. abruptly a glint of noise. from a speeding a la mode car—

== Stop stop the car. yelling child-voice. Ulki's.

== What for? The other riders ask.

== Can't you see yr boyfriends sitting at the shop?

.... Back gearing from her driving directions a bit, Swaha stops the car near the shop.

Protit orders tea and singara for them and sweets for Ulki. But she denies taking sweets and demands singara too. Then she arrests Sarol red handed: Eh uncle, you promised me to cruise on boat this afternoon, and now you 're fleeing to dodge?

Promistic Sarol tries to bribe her gifting a chocolate from his pocket to appease => What can be done, we have to depart now. So I'll cruise you when you come to Kolkata.

== There is this river in Kolkata?

== This is now just a dry river. There's bigger river in Kolkata — Ganga. Haven't read?

== There's boat on the Ganga?

== Bigger boats. Ships. I'll cruise you surely when you come.

== Promise?

== Promise.

== Where would u go now? Swaha lobs the ball of query to the court while eating to Protit.

== Paanchmura, there we plan to see the handicraft of some clay potters. Protit's reply.

== Oh whatta funnatic time u while away. Your tournival so many places. Cruising on boats.

== Ah ha, do you have lesser funtasy? You're hovering by car wherever whenever u wanna go?

== Ok come with us now we're going to Bishnupur. The car isn't so small that u 3 can't be accommodated. From there u can go to Panchmura?

{Somidh silently snapping everybody and premembers the previous time they went to Bishnupur that was dark night due to power-cut, when he was seeing the terracotta art on the body of a temple. Then Protit showed him the terracotta art works in the faint pale light of matchsticks. So the viewing that time was incomplete. But now they can't afford time. They have to comply the roadmap as per transchedule}.

== We'll very much like to go. But —

== Then where's the bar? Swaha.

== Yesterday an astrologer at Pareshnath warned me at least today if I ride on a car driven by a novice girl wearing blue distressed jeans and tees, it might be my last ride, even causing my end in 3black viper yoga. Protit's jeu d'esprit.

== What, me a novice driver? Ok I will be giving you a befitting reply going to Kolkata, Swaha encounters as she is the only girl in that apparel.

== Well why don't you go my bros? In that case there are other drivers. I'll drive instead of Swaha, Boudi's call sitting in the car with Ulki. Lipi plays avatar => If necessary I might also drive, but not licensed as yet.

Sarol teases her to excite => Hey babe, don't gonna drive. not legal for non-adult— to be booked by cops if found drivin'. Better you play takin' the Barbie doll from Ulki. And drive toy car. (Oh, I've missed the charming tantric mantra to tame Lipi! He premembers suddenly.)

== What, me play with Barbie! U a tomfool teddy bear, missiles Lipi and boards the car beside Swaha, just wait let me go to Kolkata then I'd show u who's what, Lipi's girlic guns.

Ulki delightfully claps and quips => I've understood, he called you baby, whatta fun, Aunty, if you wanna take my Barbie I can give.

.... While boarding the car opening the backdoor, Shrota pins somidh in a low tone=> Hey Esprit, where were you yesterday afternoon? (Then raising her voice audible to everyone) You snapped our photos very promptly, but remember so that we get our pics. If we don't we will raid ur den when in Kolkata.

== Ok, okay u'd get. Rest assured the pics will land in your rovile before u touch Bishnupur. {...Somidh wonders how far the bottle has reached by now?...}

== See let that happens. Bye —

.... Here everybody is to wave hands and-bye bye / untie.

Infinitimes

.... When the car speeds ventre a' terre, Shrota in the rear seat looks thru the rear door window at the tea joint wherefrom Somidh waving her + them..... Amazing, whom she didn't know even a few days before! Yet it seemed deja vu! That abrupt rendezvous... that like being a primeval man + woman duo nighting on worlden riverian wonderdom...... what a thrilling sense in her mind and body even now......as if that revealed mantastic loving limb still atouched into the appropriate region of her body ===> which can not be detouched ever..... which happening hath no memento with her. Because that happening hath already becometh past from present tense. Moreover if any skeptic raiseth eyebrow:

.... Did it really happpen? Or was it a part of the script?

She will not be able to answer that justifiably. Because there remains no timeless or all-time validating memento for anything or manything that happen in the cosmosphere. It is as if writing in chalk on the space. No colorful engraving sustains for long in the sursphere. Her introspection continues to go further to farthest.

.... Bon heur hunter cosmozens will veer towards various planets. They are looking for the minerals, favorable climate, earthmosphere, signs of life and water. If there were water there would have been living objects. And if there were living objects there would have been the possibility of development of civilization. In that case thither could have the rule of those creatures. And that clan could have been under plausible leadership. In that case the question ariseth where melted all those limbos? Whence and how they faded into oblivion? As a result of the human misdeeds the present world will face some doomsday like that someday. That type of extinction did or did not happen in the past that can not be said for sure. And if this world dwindles away then aliens from the other worlds and netherworlds shall fly over here in this world and pry when the earthmosphere evaporate.

How the revolving planet's vast shoal

enters into the grab of hot ocean of inferno

Where melteth that dusty ever earthmosphere?!

.... Thence the aliens from other worlds from different directions have to crack & find out that in the past thither was water in the earth. Thither was life. Thither was the rule of a high yielding variety of life called wo/man ..... amongst who/ where thither were power monger maharaja/rani, leader, actor hero heroine songster songstress icons, artist architect sculptor, thief, agent, business honcho, poet writer dramatist jester, assassin, priest, sycophant, cowboy, farmer laborer, player, scripter, swimmer, killer, wrestler, memoir, history, wealth, factory, graveyard, crematorium, palace, architecture, sculpture, city, cornfield, public, garden, bridge, museum, library, forest, tree, amphibian, carnivore, mammal, beast, bird, creature, bacteria......where they all vanisheth?

.... Why the pious leaders of different religions and the traders of god/s were not able to save, if not all of the world but not even the followers of their respective own great holy & sacred religions? Where doomed those big guns powerful rich sharks, the direct sons and daughters of god/s, those fierce unrivalled conquerors, faithful greats? None is there? Those greats, truths and myths? Where dissolved that dismal shady ever amphisphere DearSphere? Nowhere?!

On the cosmic sphere the eternal truth

is the continuous change of everything

including truth and myth

.... But to blank out that distant gloomdom, Shrota likes to return to the immediate regular way / sitting alone in the rear seat engrossed / roving & moving in rhyme and rhythm. Her dreamagination has touched so indefinite, faded and jaded, that to find the demarcatory signature between the immediate and the ultimate is very difficult to find out — as all are just tiny parts of the everquest of the infinitimes. RearSphere becomes DearSphere. front goes to rear. present becomes past. the past is dear to us. As ever

D e a r S p h e r e

Myriad ways at times are on reverse lookup

Path still there but gone the signs of past trails

Place time people alter morning evening noon

Primitives made up weapons set up fire

Fire still persists but no trace of the primevals

Pensive eyes haunt: where're you yore afternoon?

Once fragrant wind of puerility and youth

merry wind smeared pollens of bon heur

Morning wind aspiring renaissance ceased sleep

Those hopes & haps light & shade ego motion

when so many unsung tsunami typhoon razed?

It still storms but those tempests detraced

Eagre eyes haunt: where're you yore afternoon?

Those days reigned this very sundom O

cloud amassed thundered rained !!!

((0)) flower blossomed. fruitiled

manimals cried. looked. laughed. played

* s*t*a*r*s* splintered. moon eroded (

wind thawed roared o~c~e~a~n

Wind blows but those hi winds winded up

Fond eyes haunt: where're you yore afternoon?

Remiss this time in course of infinite infinitimes

When body pulverizes to dust tomorrow

rests no sign of yester shadow

no sign of today's dust

no sign of today's tryst

no sign of today's crust

no sign of today's lust

Hypnotic eyes haunt: where're you yore afternoon?

Yet endlessly creating & recreating

bending on unending spheres

There cannot be the end

of the end in the end

Perpetual times never sever

Unseen to anybody

my silent stint to ever haunt

beautilization in dear sphere

What where nowhere

spell in cosmosphere

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Afterword to Universion

.... Reading a foreword is often a test of one's perseverance. Yet since i've no other chance to connect with the readers, so i could not afford to squander this once & only propertunity to share with them some of my musings in the backdrop, at least as afterword. Had it been just like any other fiction, i need not write this Afterword to reach you.

.... Since my earlyhood days i had been wondering if i'll be ever able to attempt to do any such thing, which taking the cue from the past and contemporary times, will probably strive to linger at least a little longer out of the contemptporary bubbles, yet not easily fading out— even crashlanding away in the the future's nutritious & futritious field. In the beginning, i had neither any idea what it would be, in which way and how, nor any knowhow, yet the irresistible will to do somehow, did not totally die out. It slowly had been churning within me over the years which slowly culminated into Cosmosphere. In fact—

Cosmosphere is the whole being

i venture to adventure

my presence in absence

and bet for my pet life

.... Conversely, after my tad wanderings to the different parts of the world—some of where some parts of the Cosmosphere i had chanced to have touched, i wonder often—

Is it i who composed the Cosmosphere?

or the cosmosphere composed me??

.... Previously unknowing what Elliot said, if we cannot go too far we can't know how far can we go; probably i've gone a bit far, at least that might seem to manybody. But if anybody minutely observes the way of going with the times, the seemingly meaningful and yet meaningless, positive at the same time negative, interconnected as well as nonconnected ways of momentary life, matter and sensible worlds of the cosmos, as i've sensed and infiltrated a little, s/he might be able to stay tuned to cosmosphere — the waves of cosmic times, as =>

The natural even & uneven fusion

harmonizing in rhyme & unrhyme

as the rhythmic blowing flow verse

is the verse of the universe

.... Thus conceived Cosmosphere is in fact a prakalpana, = formally meaning an informal fusion of prose poetry drama essay and ideograhic graphics with my newly coined mostly portmanteaux words— all in one fiction of pro imagination. Prakalpana is fact turning to fiction and fiction returning to facts. It is factitious diction, rotating with friction on space in fraction of time, superseding superficial barriers separating the domains of the children's, travelogue, detective, romantic, horror, fantasy, science fiction...... the integral intertweened moments of which the humans have to pass naturally sometimes or other times— which they may like or not, notice or not.

.... The essence is essentially bechancing the human sense, or chetana, proimagination, in fusion, collision and diffusion with the universal interactive and inactive systematic avyas or habit, rotatingly rotating, making, breaking, remaking, rebreaking and refurbishing as in chetanavyas of temporal, forever, always allover times. As—

Perpetual times never sever

Unseen to anybody

my silent stint to ever haunt

beautilization in dear sphere

What where nowhere

spell in cosmosphere

.... Any life is the tiny, trifle part and particle of the momentum of the eternal present continuous times, followed in Dearsphere—as time passes to surpass me /into a passé of the past time. i'm aware =>

May be i've worked for the time

while i live never to come

May be—

The flowers will bloom i shall not see

Nomore shall i see

.... Cosmosphere 1: DeaRSpherE is the first Sphere of the trilogy of the complete Universion of Cosmosphere.

Let Cosmosphere be time-tested allwhere

Let it be tasted by people the illuminator

Let them bless chandan the interluder

Vattacharja Chandan

88°30´ E longitude, 22°34´N latitude. Earth. Meghalaya age. 50th Prakalpana year 2018

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About Vattacharja Chandan

"As the creator of the movement, Vattacharja Chandan envisaged an innovative literary form that tackled colonial forms and grew out of the surrounding organic reality", about him observed the New Man International Journal of Multidisciplinary Studies.

Being the exponent of the international Prakalpana Movement, a bilingual writer in Bengali & English, he has visited many countries. Edited PrakalpanA LiteratureE and kOBISENa. Performer of poetry with songs & music. His mail arts were shown in several international mail art exhibitions.

Yet his journey as a writer has not been without challenges, as the Wikipedia noted:"Chandan's work, theories and role as a harbinger of the experimental and avant-garde ...literary movement in India have surrounded him with controversy."

Discover Other Books by Vattacharja Chandan

Byabiloner Shunya Bagane (poetry)

Porimandal (prakalpana)

Upsurging Prakalpana (Edited prakalpana anthology)

Atiprithibi 1 (prakalpana)

Chirochorachor (prakalpana)

Gournodite Vor

Sarol Karo Valobasa (poetry)

Posha Paakhi Hobona : I Won't Be a pet Bird (poetry)

Prakalpana Aandoloner Istahaar (Manifesto of Prakalpana Movement)

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