Precious Moments

Each day I spend,
Has a very precious moment,
When I lie down each night,I know it's the end,
One more day has went.
But do you know what gives me happiness?
Those little, precious moments...
Class bunking with friends,specks of naughtiness,
Kicking and hitting each other,criticizing our mother.
I want to fly,I want to run,I want to fall,
But I do not want to stop,because,for anyone,time doesn't crawl.
I want to live my dream,I want to have fun,
Indoors with friends and out in the sun.
All these wishes fulfilled,makes me happy,
But that's nothing compared to the fun I have when chilling out with my friends,having an Appy.
So I decided,I will live every precious moment of my life to the fullest,
Everything has its time,now it's my time to enjoy and I will,
Being bored to death by studying, this thing I will kill!

POEM BY ASHMITA DASGUPTA INSPIRED FROM THE BOLLYWOOD MOVIE "YEH JAWAANI HAI DEEWANI"

My Dream

My dream is to be a girl, who is perfect,

In anything and everything and every aspect.

My dream is to become a fashion designer,

Partnership with beauty, dresses and eye liner.

My dream is to become an author too,

Writing away interesting stories, with princes and fairies and “I Love You!”

My dream is to have infinite friends,

Watching movies, having fun and shopping for trends.

My dream is to have popularity and fame,

Everyone would admire me and know my name.

My dream is to fly like a fairy,

I would fly past everyone, my head held airy.

My dream is to be someone who can be loved,

Rest is p to the people to realize my worth.

My dream is to live long forever, till the end,

And ‘the end’ would come only when a message I send.

My dream is to have whatever I wish,

But it will always remain an unfulfilled wish.

All of this is just a big, an adorable dream,

Which will gradually flow away with life, like a stream...

                                                              --ASHMITA DASGUPTA

This Is Life

Dreams are nothing but illusions stretching till infinity,

The dreamland seems like the largest city.

Dreams will come true if small steps are taken everyday,

And you are sure to be happy and gay.

But sometimes a dream will seem like a precious gem, you will never get,

You will just cry silently and then you have to forget.

Sometimes you will soar into the sky,

As high as the birds fly,

But sometimes you will be so low on yourself,

You will feel that among the giants,

You are a poor elf.

Sometimes you will be too proud,

You will be someone distinguished in the crowd.

But sometimes for yourself you will not care,

Being present, you will be lost everywhere.

Sometimes you will have happy emotions and will be on an emotional ride

But sometimes you will just be hovering over a fight.

But whatever happens just take it light,

Because this is practical life.

                                             ---ASHMITA DASGUPTA

Murder Day

Usually I would stay inside today.Well, usually I would stay inside everyday, but today,on this day of all days,I would normally want nothing more but to stay out of the way-to stay safe.

This year is different though.This year I've finally decided to take part in the celebration.

Celebration....ha....that's what they call it anyway, but we all know the best word for it is horror.

I remember last year, after I'd locked my doors and windows, as i sat alone and terrified,trying to block out the screams and disgusting laughter that came from the street.

"My sister! My sister!" One man screamed.I could hear his sobs but knew nobody would help him.

I listened to music, I painted still lifes of the things I owned and practiced my yoga.I did everything I could think of to keep my mind off of it, the horror, the celebration.

As I struggled to clear my mind, my arms opened wide for yet another sweeping sun salutation,I heard her.Agnes, the old lady from upstairs.

I don't know what she was thinking.The old bat probably forgot what decade it was.She was always telling me about how it used to be...

As she screamed I ran to the window just in time to see it happen.The blood spurting from her tattered neck, like a fountain, the man responsible revelling in his misdeeds.

Like me, he knew nothing of the time before Murder Day, he grew up knowing that evry year it came and went like any other glutinous holiday.Unlike Christmas,Thanksgiving or Easter though, this day was meant for feasting on violence and death.

I sat in my window and cried for Agnes,I imagined reasons for why she would go outside and wondered about the man who killed her.Was he an avid Murder Day participant?Could he be found out in the bloody streets each year, taking part in the celebration?Was Agnes just another hole in his belt, or was she his first?

This year, things are different.This year, there is no music, paint or yoga.All I can do is think of his face, bathed as it was in her blood.Though in my mind it's his, in my imagination the red stained fountain comes from his own exposed and ripped open arteries while I'm the one dancing in the bloody rain.

And so I suit up;good running shoes,dark clothes,an old rusty knife from my rotting kitchen drawer.

This year I will celebrate.

I'm quiet and limber,I keep to the shadows.Alleyway to alleyway,I ignore all else.Men and women everywhere are screaming and rejoiciing in their bloody violent revery.

I notice the people peering from their dark and covered windows.They aren't watching me though, they are looking at the streets.Some hide looks of excitement,fear or contempt while others show their smiling children what waits for them in the years to come.

No matter what emotion's showing though, I know what's deep inside; a hungry curiosity, a thirst for blood too frightening to quench.

I hear a scream come from the street, a woman flails and bleeds.I see his face and run for him, my blade held high above my head and just before I make it-BANG!

I didn't see it coming.A sharp pain and then I'm down.Warm blood pools around me and before I know it..................

I'M DEAD.................................

The Silence-Part II

Sequel to THE SILENCE

THE VICTIM

Amongst the cold valley,

Lies something unknown to all,

The Victim of innocence...

Is dragged slowly, painfully,

In the darkened depths

Of its very soul.

Its teeth;

Like those of a venomous snake,

White daggers, glowing mist-like in the darkened tunnel.

Piercing its fangs

Into the new Victim; The Innocent.

Poison courses throughout the body.

Excruciating pain.

Cries of anguish,

Lost in the grey skies of a storm.

Numb.

Rain falls heavily,

And the innocence is washed away,

Along with the victims of blood.

A cold corpse lays lifeless.

Defeated.Dead.Gone.

Innocence was given away to Darkness.

That cold, dreary day.

                                        ---ASHMITA DASGUPTA

The Silence

There's no doubt she's coming for me.

The eerie silence is deafening.

Her footsteps, loud, drawing near,

I muffle my cries.

I run off into the blood red dawn.

I feel her presence,

I can feel her dreaming of me,

Falling to my death.

She finds me,

Coming closer.

Inside my head

I'm screaming and trying to run.

I find myself frozen in place.

She draws a knife,

Piercing it into my side.

She kills me slowly, letting the blood drip.

My feet, soaking in blood,

I begin to fall onto the cold ground.

Immense pain clouds my thoughts.

Suddenly, I'm staring into a mirror.

There is a girl, clutching a knife

Her eyes meet mine,

They hold me like a distant light on a winter's night.

Familiar, does the light blue eyes look.

The silence; the pain,

Driving me insane.

The mirror cracks; shatters,

Into pieces....

Pieces that will never be put back together.

                                                                                     ---ASHMITA DASGUPTA

I Am

I am the one who is the key to your heart,

Always choosing the perfect path.

I am the sun, I am the moon,

Whom you are trying to reach very soon.

I am the one to guide you way,

I am the sunshine to light your day.

I am the one who makes your day,

Whether in cool December or in hot May.

I am the one who is never noticed,

Always in the crowd my name is missed.

I am the one who helps you to reach success,

But do you ever remember to confess?

I am the one always giving you hope,

When you are trying to win over opponents rope.

I am surely the ultimate one,

But in the crowd I always remain as someone.

                                                         ---ASHMITA DASGUPTA

Dedicated to a person named Aishwarya, my best friend, whom I love even more than I love myself, but who never realizes that and the fact that she couldn't live without me....*sigh* SOMEONE PLEASE TELL HER!!!