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Friday, August 7, 2015. Sandipan Chattopadhyay's poem BORDER PROPOSAL-2 ( Translation of Simanto Prostab-2 ). The main perception about death is :. 1) It is an attack. 2) Surely sudden, but not secret; it is foretold. 3) Many people do not die together. Death one by one, attacks one at a time. Death does not have the capacity to devastate all human beings. I shall say, unequal war. Disease. Happens, after cure some people think 'saved myself'. With a smile he should be told, 'it is wrong'. Will come and ...

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who knows? | grasshoppersunited.blogspot.com Reviews
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Friday, August 7, 2015. Sandipan Chattopadhyay's poem BORDER PROPOSAL-2 ( Translation of Simanto Prostab-2 ). The main perception about death is :. 1) It is an attack. 2) Surely sudden, but not secret; it is foretold. 3) Many people do not die together. Death one by one, attacks one at a time. Death does not have the capacity to devastate all human beings. I shall say, unequal war. Disease. Happens, after cure some people think 'saved myself'. With a smile he should be told, 'it is wrong'. Will come and ...
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who knows? | grasshoppersunited.blogspot.com Reviews

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Friday, August 7, 2015. Sandipan Chattopadhyay's poem BORDER PROPOSAL-2 ( Translation of Simanto Prostab-2 ). The main perception about death is :. 1) It is an attack. 2) Surely sudden, but not secret; it is foretold. 3) Many people do not die together. Death one by one, attacks one at a time. Death does not have the capacity to devastate all human beings. I shall say, unequal war. Disease. Happens, after cure some people think 'saved myself'. With a smile he should be told, 'it is wrong'. Will come and ...

INTERNAL PAGES

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1

who knows?: East or west, let the buggers melt...

http://www.grasshoppersunited.blogspot.com/2007/09/east-or-west-let-buggers-melt.html

Saturday, September 1, 2007. East or west, let the buggers melt. Every now and then, I hear some brief mumblings. grumbling about directions. I don't even know how to check a compass. Its not a place, its bloody 'culture' in Bengali. And how wandarful is hower kalchar! The debate must not continue. Its already eating up my own head. Tomorrow I promise, I'll tell you more about East and West.Oh! Not tomorrow, will inform you whenever i discuss it. You kalchar vulture.when will ur tomorrow come?

2

who knows?: Monsoon Bonanza

http://www.grasshoppersunited.blogspot.com/2007/07/monsoon-bonanza.html

Tuesday, July 3, 2007. It’s raining for past two days. Nonstop! We sat beside the window and lit a fag, watching the dripping coconut trees. 8220;You see, they are abundant this side. You get one for five rupees”, informed Ankur. 8220;So you guys must be eating a lot of them.”. I get a few if there’s a guest. The planters sell them for even less. But who’ll go so far? 8220;Where’s your mom? 8221; said I. 8220;She’s gone shopping for the pujas”. 8220;And you didn’t go! Sniff diluter in them? 8220;Please&#...

3

who knows?: Lonely Love

http://www.grasshoppersunited.blogspot.com/2007/06/lonely-love.html

Sunday, June 3, 2007. Lonely love, in a shadow warm. Laid the eggs of dreams. Brooding in the golden barn. The sun would peep, and wake the love. The sleepy, cozy feather heap. And dreams would sing and turn to doves,. Would turn to leaves and snowy sheep. Mother would shut, tight her eyes. Whisper a song for eternity. Pray the dreams could never hatch. And end in a silver cutlery. December 30, 2007 at 9:15 AM. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile.

4

who knows?: June 2007

http://www.grasshoppersunited.blogspot.com/2007_06_01_archive.html

Sunday, June 3, 2007. Lonely love, in a shadow warm. Laid the eggs of dreams. Brooding in the golden barn. The sun would peep, and wake the love. The sleepy, cozy feather heap. And dreams would sing and turn to doves,. Would turn to leaves and snowy sheep. Mother would shut, tight her eyes. Whisper a song for eternity. Pray the dreams could never hatch. And end in a silver cutlery. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). View my complete profile.

5

who knows?: August 2015

http://www.grasshoppersunited.blogspot.com/2015_08_01_archive.html

Friday, August 7, 2015. Sandipan Chattopadhyay's poem BORDER PROPOSAL-2 ( Translation of Simanto Prostab-2 ). The main perception about death is :. 1) It is an attack. 2) Surely sudden, but not secret; it is foretold. 3) Many people do not die together. Death one by one, attacks one at a time. Death does not have the capacity to devastate all human beings. I shall say, unequal war. Disease. Happens, after cure some people think 'saved myself'. With a smile he should be told, 'it is wrong'. Will come and ...

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Psychedelic He(Art): Illusion

http://psyche-art.blogspot.com/2007/08/illusion.html

Friday, August 31, 2007. Here I am, sitting in the shadows. of my own dreams. I am trying to hide in here, hiding from the world, from people, from myself. And thus, from the shadows, I am trying to observe the world around me, and see if it means anything to me, if I mean anything to it. And yet again, a doubt creeps in, is it the world thats an illusion? Or, is it me? Is it that the world doesn't notice me? Or, is it that I am oblivious to it? Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile.

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Psychedelic He(Art): At the heart of the tornado...

http://psyche-art.blogspot.com/2008/09/at-heart-of-tornado.html

Tuesday, September 16, 2008. At the heart of the tornado. Years of struggling within has come to a standstill, questions stirring the turmoil have for the moment faded away, the shrilling noise has dissolved away into a distant silence, that envelopes the vast emptiness beneath the dark brooding clouds, the tornado has finally stopped. With a shriek that echoed through ages, the tornado explodes into a deluge of bright colors. Speckles of dreams drift through pillars of light breaking through the clo...

psyche-art.blogspot.com psyche-art.blogspot.com

Psychedelic He(Art): July 2007

http://psyche-art.blogspot.com/2007_07_01_archive.html

Sunday, July 15, 2007. On a high, I sit and watch things around me. My demented mind seems to be making multiple interpretations of everything around me, right or wrong not being the question at all. The blue light and the songs seem to be augmenting the experience of it all. And as I keep looking at the source of the blue light, I can feel myself rising and drifting. up, up. right into the blue bulb, and suddenly everything around me disappears into a voluminous ambiance of blue light. Loneliness is not...

psyche-art.blogspot.com psyche-art.blogspot.com

Psychedelic He(Art): October 2006

http://psyche-art.blogspot.com/2006_10_01_archive.html

Wednesday, October 04, 2006. I am still wondering, can I remove the black veil, can I fight the darkness and let the light spread around, can I ever talk to myself again? Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). I wish I could understand myself better than I do now. View my complete profile. Rishit Neogi [Of allusions, illusions and delusions]. Rishit Neogi [The Flavour of A Smudge]. Rishit Neogi [who knows? Is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 India License.

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Psychedelic He(Art): My Definition of Life... Revisited

http://psyche-art.blogspot.com/2007/09/my-definition-of-life-revisited.html

Sunday, September 02, 2007. My Definition of Life. Revisited. Sun and Rain and Smiles and Pain,. Nights and Days and Gloom and Glaze,. Quill of Feather and Edge of Knife,. Yes, my friends, That is Life. Sitting at the shrine of solitude, at the bottom of my own heart, I was going over these very lines of mine. Pondering, wondering. what made me write these? Is this really what I feel about life? Is it that I have never been happy in my soul, that I have never smiled from my heart? View my complete profile.

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Psychedelic He(Art): Footprints

http://psyche-art.blogspot.com/2007/09/footprints.html

Tuesday, September 18, 2007. I kept walking,. Away from myself,. Away from you,. Unsure of direction,. My heart and soul blue,. It got darker,. My eyes weeping,. Never knowing why,. My mind sleeping,. Shards of glass,. Cutting me apart,. The pain only grew,. Heavy like my heart,. Howling in my ears,. Deep, like pain,. Moist, with tears,. Cold, distant,. Silent, smiling,. I wept, I cried,. Have you seen the jhony walker liquor logo? A picture worth a million words.:). Tue Sep 25, 07:55:00 AM GMT-7.

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Psychedelic He(Art): January 2007

http://psyche-art.blogspot.com/2007_01_01_archive.html

Sunday, January 28, 2007. Its funny, and clichéd, but you realize the importance of something only when you lose it. I think I have lost something too. I have lost the capacity to feel, I have lost the capacity to be happy, or to be sad. And I miss it a lot. And that dust, will dissolve into the wind, leaving not a trace of my existence, no one to remember me, or even notice that I existed once, and that now I don't. But that leads me to another question, does anyone notice me now? Why is it so powerful?

psyche-art.blogspot.com psyche-art.blogspot.com

Psychedelic He(Art): and so I was hated...

http://psyche-art.blogspot.com/2007/09/and-so-i-was-hated.html

Thursday, September 13, 2007. And so I was hated. Get out, Let us live our lives.". The voices ringing through my ears as I walk back to myself, to my loneliness. I am passing through a myriad tunnel, like passing through time, people swooshing by me in jittery lines of various colors, suns and moons playing tricks with my eyes, feelings playing hide and seek with my heart, and thoughts playing around my mind, and I wonder. is that all I stand for? Is that all that I mean to the world? Is that all I am?

psyche-art.blogspot.com psyche-art.blogspot.com

Psychedelic He(Art): August 2007

http://psyche-art.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html

Friday, August 31, 2007. Here I am, sitting in the shadows. of my own dreams. I am trying to hide in here, hiding from the world, from people, from myself. And thus, from the shadows, I am trying to observe the world around me, and see if it means anything to me, if I mean anything to it. And yet again, a doubt creeps in, is it the world thats an illusion? Or, is it me? Is it that the world doesn't notice me? Or, is it that I am oblivious to it? Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). View my complete profile.

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who knows?

Friday, August 7, 2015. Sandipan Chattopadhyay's poem BORDER PROPOSAL-2 ( Translation of Simanto Prostab-2 ). The main perception about death is :. 1) It is an attack. 2) Surely sudden, but not secret; it is foretold. 3) Many people do not die together. Death one by one, attacks one at a time. Death does not have the capacity to devastate all human beings. I shall say, unequal war. Disease. Happens, after cure some people think 'saved myself'. With a smile he should be told, 'it is wrong'. Will come and ...

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