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  • mainakbasak 2w

    What frightful fiends stalk us day and night?

    Their mannerisms are uncouth;

    their bodies are skeletal, emaciated.

    We have tried our best

    to distinguish ourselves.

    Adopting a different tongue,

    and an indifferent ear.

    We have surrounded ourselves with books,

    furnitures, faces, clothes,

    and assorted baubles of vanity.

    We have even acknowledged the fact

    that their existence is necessary

    for us to prosper.

    But listen, here they come

    crawling down the streets,

    those ungrateful wretches.

    The lack of love has driven them mad.

    Read More

    Frankenstein

    ©mainakbasak

  • mainakbasak 3w

    Absent presence

    The wall clock has been stuck at 9:45 for

    several weeks now. Still, twice daily, I find

    myself looking at it.

    This room, the voices in the street,

    the distant sound of horns, this incessant

    ideological warfare; they are as real as the

    lifeless body of my friend

    sprawled on the sofa.

    My hands cup a face in the air,

    six inches below my head;

    and my body turns

    in the general direction of your existence.

    I quickly survey my surroundings, making sure

    no one is watching.

    ©mainakbasak

  • mainakbasak 4w

    Simulacra

    I summon all the seasons in my tiny room;

    summer in the east corner, autumn in the

    west. Monsoon I confine to my ceiling,

    and allow winter to wrap itself around me.

    Spring arrives late, much too late;

    wanting to occupy all of me.

    Thus, I am compelled to make copies of myself

    and this tiny room.

    ©mainakbasak

  • mainakbasak 4w

    You are always the last person to forgive yourself.

    Look, how the blanket shares its warmth

    with you. How the tea cup keeps the heat

    away from its handle, just to be held by you.

    Do you remember that time we talked about

    forever and how it doesn't matter that things

    don't last? I was lying when I said I didn't think

    about the end of the tunnel. What do people

    really mean when they say it is meant to be?

    I meant to get some work done, a few minutes

    ago. But look at me now; prostrated by the

    weight of my thoughts; listening to the

    footsteps down in the street. The tea should

    arrive any minute now.


    ©mainakbasak

    Read More

    Evening Tea

    ©mainakbasak

  • mainakbasak 5w

    Junk food

    I want relatable things

    I want funny things

    And I want it now

    My shoulders droop

    My brain turns into mush

    It demands content

    More content

    Instant gratification

    No buffering

    I laugh to the sound

    Of others laughing

    In fear of missing out

    ©mainakbasak

  • mainakbasak 6w

    Can love survive deconstruction?

    Sometimes you must sink your teeth

    in your own flesh;

    Tell yourself it's alright,

    you can take some more.

    Tell yourself it's just loneliness,

    or misfortune;

    this sensation under your skin.


    Fuck honesty, honestly.

    If I were an honest man, I'd be alone,

    living with a cat,

    that comes and goes,

    much like the effervescent spell

    we call happiness.

    It's alright

    if I'm a fool to some.

    My folly is the pillow I rest my head on.

    ©mainakbasak

    Read More

    Cooldown

  • mainakbasak 11w

    It is a perfect day

    for doing something you hate.

    In the evening I shall head out to the sea.

    The seaweeds shall cover my hair

    as I emerge out of the water.

    I shall find a quiet spot to lie down,

    under a coconut tree,

    and bury myself in the sand.

    Deep, deep beneath the ground

    I shall go

    until all the sounds of the universe

    are reduced to a soft murmur.

    One by one, I shall peel the layers of my skin.

    Mother, Father, friends, lovers

    all leaving my body and merging with the sand.

    What a sin it is

    to drag others down with you.

    ©mainakbasak

    Read More

    Unravel

    ©mainakbasak

  • mainakbasak 12w

    Things that tend to get stuck in odd places

    My mind in my 25-year old body

    Your slightly plump fingers in my hair

    The pregnant cat in the grills of the gate

    The worn-out pair of earphones in the grooves of the bed frame

    A flying shrapnel in a child's forehead

    The moon in the water

    Our hopes in a far, far future

    ©mainakbasak

  • mainakbasak 13w

    Red is the colour of clarity

    Dust displaced, then replaced

    Ashen faces press against each other

    Standing on a pile of debris

    The pig softly plays on a spiderweb

    More, he wants more

    Swallowing the universe will not suffice

    He wants unquestioning loyalty

    A billion faceless people

    Looking up at him in admiration

    More, they want more

    Having their faces ripped off their skulls

    Will not suffice

    They want a sea of spiderwebs

    And the same melody

    Played over and over again

    Read More

    But what about them

    ©mainakbasak

  • mainakbasak 16w

    A small incident

    A newborn kitten scampers out into the road

    The sound of screeching tyres

    Pierces the silence

    Splattered against the asphalt

    The tiny remains

    White hands gripping the wheel

    Fizzy liquid all over the backseat

    What is swept away and gotten rid of

    Has a way of crawling back up your feet

    ©mainakbasak