September 10, 2012 in | Comments (4)

4 Responses to “A COLD MAN”

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  1. Comment by simran sonkar — September 13, 2012 at 5:56 am   Reply

    riju basak has inspired me alot…i wish he was alive.. I am a class 8 student of ashok hall and i loved this poem a cold man..i will buy a copy of a bunch of lies..riju basak was highly talented..if he was alive i would ask him for his autograph in my copy of a bunch of lies

  2. Comment by simran sonkar — September 13, 2012 at 5:57 am   Reply

    riju basak has inspired me alot…i wish he was alive.. I am a class 8 student of ashok hall and i loved this poem a cold man..

  3. Comment by Rebel on the Loose — November 12, 2012 at 9:14 am   Reply

    This is a very good poem. It brings out the stark reality of what an average man stands for; it brings justice to the struggle our men and women go through everyday to bring peace in families, hearts but somewhere in each fighter’s heart is the everlasting question of what did her leave behind that spoke about himself rather than his struggles…this is lovely and heart wrenching. RIP Riju Basak…I never knew you but I have seen your pictures and your poems and I wish you were here.

  4. Comment by Gaurav Toshniwal — November 6, 2013 at 3:25 am   Reply

    An Autograph

    He bequeathed this book and said we’ll meet more,
    ‘A Bunch Of Lies’ from the Oxford book store
    His poems in those cultural dark hours acted as a scent,
    My Heart wept,’ I wish his absence was absent!’
    At times I heard Him when He did greet,
    Amid destitute roads and silent streets…
    I could wait no more to meet him,
    Because I wanted his unhappiness to trim.
    This morning I’d walked to my old school,
    Driving His cart of memories as a mule
    His absence quoted,’ He wanted fame,’
    But there’s someone who had played a game…
    Neither the teachers nor his mates knew what had happened to him,
    They only praised and forgot that his hopes and life had turned dim!
    I stood against the Round Chappell,
    Pondering profoundly as I ate my apple,
    Saw them playing happily as nerds!
    But then I remembered Rijhu’s words-
    ‘Why do we cry when someone is dead,
    When afterwards life will keep running for its own bread!’
    Hardly had I stopped seeing his mates,
    When Claude Martin drove through the gates.
    I wanted to have a tete-a-tete with him,
    So that my hopes do not shrink!
    I even knocked the door of Max Muller Bhavan,
    But they sighed- that Day he’d made a last call at seven
    Disappointed… of his friends and gowns,
    I went to the lake where he drowned.
    With paper-pen & his old guitar he was sitting beside the lake,
    Probably for some more magnum opus that he wanted to make!
    I stole in his emotions which I thought that it did fade,
    But all the pictures showed the pacific love for his babes
    Closed his eyes with my nimble hands,
    So that this childish act could lessen his pangs!
    May be short but it was bliss,
    The conversation began like this!

    Rijhu- Hey!! What’s up dude, where have you been bro?

    Gaurav- Shut up, I was looking for you to and fro!

    Rijhu- Ah… I do visit my school but hardly anyone pays attention,
    It’s like I’ve got detention!

    Gaurav- But I’ve heard a lot about you,
    Hearing your name their eyes turn dew!
    They even say they want your autograph,

    Rijhu- But I think… in it there’s nothing a big craft!
    Listen… I’m sorry I’ve to go down the lake to meet the mermaids,
    Perhaps now my only livelihood- to play my guitar and get paid! 🙁

    Gaurav- Before that…I need your autograph in my book,
    And please don’t give me that bullShit look!

    Nodding his head he complimented me ‘Insane’
    And slowly He drowned once again,
    Walking back I recollected his look of a hot frying pan,
    Was dumbstruck seeing his scribbled words reading- A Cold Man!

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