Biography of Jyotishman Debnath
Noun Pronoun verb Noun. Pronoun verb adverb adjective, Some more adjective, and a very strong Pronoun with an exclamation mark attached to it...!
You can fill the blanks the way you feel like...
'Me: Did I ever tell you that I always paint my picture red?
'X': About thousand times...'
and the conversation goes on....till the time we can afford words no more...! Don't worry it's just a part of my own fiction...a fiction where everyone is a prophet, a Christ, a sinner...all trapped in a mousetrap.. sadly I can't visit the wizard of the Oz to rescue them but it's equally satisfying that no one can..yet I want to fill the void with colors...and put on my own skin inside out...want to dream a dream of perfection and then wake up like 'something alive'...a happy note a brilliant end, where a caterpillar no longer worries about being a butterfly as it knows it's only a transformation not death...
it has always been a contradiction between being and nothingness, between a yes and a no, between existence of something that is light and heavy at the same time, a probability of getting head or tails....between not lying and not telling the truth...but luckily we always have an escape route....
Decoratively we call it indifference...!
it's a process which is just like an ancient text of alchemy....turn anything into gold....just one touch...dying light! still when the raindrops beat like a drum I no longer want the cold serenity of a monk, but the warm restlessness of a poet.....never ending, never dying, forever new...a celebration, a feast on life...!
'A character is never the author who created him. It is quite likely, however, that an author may be all his characters simultaneously'
And I love to write, paint, create, build, protect me and my characters...whole night long...!
overall Life has always been beautiful in it's own locus...and with the presence of an invincible summer it will always be....!
Come, exchange dreams....!
P.S: If my words are tough to understand be attuned to my silence...
Jyotishman Debnath's Works:
SURREAL RIVER, SALT OF SPRING
Jyotishman Debnath Poems
An Interview With God
And they say they are pilgrims they are doing it for their God's sake
A Lesbian In A Girls Hostel
I) I have always been fascinated by the word antonym whatever befalls me I m just a mute spectator say I'm walking up the hill
The voice of the tree gets frozen and the snow falls on the heart of the winter it has been broken
I wanted to draw a painting on the canvas called life... beatiful, mystic yet attractive..
The Sculpture Of Unfulfillness
who cries at midnight what comes out from the heart of the rock? the thousand years of grief
the candle is lighten up with the mercy of cold angry air. i started searching for myself
I revisited the ailing forest carpeted with autumnal leaves
I M Just A Poet
I am just a poet poor..! I have only my dreams I keep them like a treasure.
for everybody else there is a place to go back to feel the touch of beloved and go back to the land, they belong
Epitaph Of The Lost Sun
the insane night the noise of silence whispering something into my ears the night is a mourn song of lost sun
On Love On Death
death is easy love is easy too..! i donot like easy things!
Song Of The Ocean
there is a song of this vast ocean the sandstone of desire in the seashore increasing like the tides
No Fixed Address
what did I get by touching the womb of life what comes and what goes the tears I cried came back as a mystic smile of life
Please! sometimes somewhere in the four corner a deep rooted blankness hugs me tightly the wind blows sharp
the ailing forest
carpeted with autumnal leaves
our last rendezvous!
missing the gentle touch of her hand
the reckless rain washed away
her footprints in the sand