tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-167966552009-11-08T17:11:40.975-06:00Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.comBlogger90125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-20135394184040138112009-11-01T10:41:00.001-06:002009-11-01T10:44:29.767-06:00

You thought, with one blow, You can take away my innocence. I thought, with one dream, I can build my defense. You thought, with another, You can take away my dreams, I thought, that my faith, Shall mute their dying screams. You thought, You can stab At the heart of my faith, I thought, that in living, I shall not see its death. You thought, You can be As God, as You wanted to, I thought, I

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-52696946008187888592009-10-28T20:40:00.000-05:002009-10-28T20:40:20.933-05:00

I was attending a conference in Chicago last week. My first one too. It was quite an enjoyable and somewhat productive experience. And then there were those rare bloggable moments, here's one of them. I was in the poster display area, and as usual too much science and too many scientists make me crave coffee (I think that is a universal property of scientists). I kept my badge, which I was

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-55176389918637100612009-10-15T21:02:00.001-05:002009-10-15T21:06:48.767-05:00

I wish we, Me and you, Would sit up late into the night, Tell some tales, some stories old, Whisper in the dark, some secrets true. I wish we, Me and you, Would race up the hill, in frenzied rave, Would fall panting on the glowing grass, And watch the heavens blissfully blue. I wish we, Me and you, Would make a snowman, out of the storm, Catch flakes of wantonly drifting mirth, In a winter cold

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-44913220197059416572009-10-13T22:29:00.000-05:002009-10-13T22:29:54.321-05:00

It was a great morning today, bright, shinny, a bit chilly. You could comfortably bundle up in 2 layers of warm clothing, with your cheeks and nose getting cold, I like that. I was waiting at the bus stop, my mind full of newfangled poetry, about summers and springs and winters, of hope and pain, of songs and dances and then I saw this written in yellow and pink chalk on the side walk, where I

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-18366188462582169182009-10-12T04:44:00.003-05:002009-10-12T05:13:41.054-05:00

Almost a year ago, I had written this. A wish, long cherished but never fulfilled. But finally, someone did end up writing a song for me. Yeah it is my same mysterious friend (he thinks being mysterious will make him interesting to my female friends and readers) I shared my little secret on versifying with him. I would like to take credit for making a poet out of him, if it were not in direct

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-17465592716973638312009-10-11T03:43:00.000-05:002009-10-11T03:43:08.595-05:00

Long nights like these, mess me up. Long nights, cold nights, dreamless, locked inside a closed door and shut up window. Long nights mess me up. I want you come knocking on my door. I want you to stand out in the cold and say "I am sorry, I messed up. I know I was wrong, and you were right. I know I should die, and you should live." And I want to shut the door on you then and leave you out in the

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-30495255263060164702009-10-09T23:57:00.002-05:002009-10-10T00:06:28.546-05:00

It's time to move on, For a vagabond I am, and shall be. So now I embark on a new journey. This post is to announce a new blog, that I will be writing in, Cuentistas. I am collaborating on this project with a friend (who does not want to reveal his identity at this time). It is going to be a strictly story blog, where both of us would try our amateur hands at story-typing err... writing. This

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-58303285848328850562009-10-08T01:50:00.001-05:002009-10-08T02:37:32.606-05:00

Give me a dream, For the night is long. Give me a tune, To thread back my song. Give me a heartbeat, So I know, that I belong.

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-66711049452342310382009-10-05T01:17:00.000-05:002009-10-05T01:17:35.027-05:00

Now that I call myself a neurophysiologist, I have gotten into the habit of analyzing everything on the basis of what happens in the brain. So I noticed this peculiarity about myself that I don't pursue an interest or hobby with as much dedication as I would like to and I always give myself reasons for not doing so. For example, I like to read, but I am not, what they call a voracious reader. I

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-91810960440292110272009-09-28T16:14:00.002-05:002009-09-28T19:34:59.343-05:00

Mad winds, what do you say ? Mad winds, on a wintry day. Mad winds, what do you sing? How do you make the wind chimes ring? Mad winds, what do you play ? Stop doing that, it's just my hair. Mad winds, you are getting too bold, Don't blow off my jacket, it's a trifle cold. Mad winds, it's overcast, You bring the smell of rains from past, Mad winds, I like to fly, Let me get my wings and try, Mad

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-69623685566256557252009-09-25T23:23:00.014-05:002009-09-26T09:35:12.420-05:00

I like the days, Not because they are bright and sunny, But because they are all different. I like the wind in the trees, and how it makes them sway Looks to me, like they are sharing some joke Falling over each other laughing. Sometimes I can even hear them play a symphony Or dance a ballet, Even when I am on the other side of the glass. My apartment has a little patio, There is a little potted

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-8684258955279619512009-09-18T22:20:00.000-05:002009-09-18T22:20:20.698-05:00

I have left my door ajar this night, For you. Let me dance this last time, And then you can thrust your icy dagger In the hollow of my chest. No red shall stain your white garb I promise And as I die in your arms, Do sing me a song, For Love, Have you not lived, In my heart for long ?

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-80422440599333770512009-09-17T14:31:00.000-05:002009-09-17T16:35:32.364-05:00

Today I met with an accident. I was biking back from class and was hit by another bike coming perpendicularly towards me at the intersection. It was a crazy construction area, no sidewalk, no signals, weird traffic. Anyways, I fell, I could clearly see  it in slow motion. Before falling I remembered I don't have a helmet on, I saw my bike tilt, I saw my glasses fall off, and finally I felt

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-10250876956608930162009-09-11T18:28:00.000-05:002009-09-12T02:30:23.974-05:00

This is the ode, I have been so wanting to write all these days. I have done a really bad job i am sure, and it is not even a proper ode. I wanted it to sound a little archaic, so that is intentional. Though originally I had planned to write it with Thee's and Thou's, but discarded the idea.Beautiful they are, but vain and evanescent.The expensive accessories of the spring,Are lost soon, when the

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-88643690827631189502009-09-11T18:23:00.000-05:002009-09-11T18:27:26.949-05:00

I pushed it out of my belly,Almost breathless,I picked it up, a bloodied mass,Turned it over, looked at it from all sidesI twisted it, stretched it, crushed it,Does it grow ? Does it shrink,Is it warm, is it cold, soft, hard?Then I tossed it out in to the sea,It was my child,Fathered by Love,I called it Pain.

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-5037034014994194652009-09-10T13:53:00.000-05:002009-09-11T18:34:13.113-05:00

So-and-So just woke up,So-and-So is sleepy still,So-and-So has to pay his bills,So-and-So just just arrived at work,So-and-So : My boss is a schmuck,So-and-So is oh sooooo bored,So-and-So is about to explode.So-and-So is now single,So-and-So is ready to mingle.So-and-So has posted new pics,So-and-So saw some hot chicks,So-and-So likes the video,So-and-So is looking out of the window.So-and-So

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-23276470891758887552009-09-10T13:18:00.000-05:002009-09-10T14:26:41.198-05:00

I thank you, for the gifts you giveI forget to thank, for what you do not,I thank you, for the sunlit days,For the cloudy ones, I thank not.I thank you, for the times you stand by me,I forget to thank, for the lonely seasons.I thank you, for giving me, a life to live,I forget to thank, for all the reasons.I thank you for being the God I pray,I forget to thank you, almost always,For being me, at

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-25476952608932192302009-09-08T21:47:00.000-05:002009-09-08T23:17:56.785-05:00

The title is really pompous for what I am going to write. I am just about to rant for a bit :). For the past few weeks poems have taken birth and died in my mind. I have been feeling the writer's block or whatever you call it. I am feeling this uneasiness, a feeling of incompleteness, like a futile attempt to reach out to my soul. I know this feeling will not go till I write something. But the

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-78297302984218324092009-08-27T21:17:00.000-05:002009-08-27T22:30:16.911-05:00

As you can say from the image, it is a collection of short works of Richard Feynman. But this post is not a review of the book, it is about the pleasure of finding things out. This was my birthday gift from Erina, and luckily it arrived when she and Kabeer were here in Madison, so that I could share the pleasure of finding things out with them. I am a person who keeps misplacing things, and

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-70582516165333685812009-08-23T23:50:00.000-05:002009-08-24T00:49:06.895-05:00

I am happy, really really happy. And today suddenly, I don't understand, what was it, that I was so sad about. (Thanks Kabeer and Erina). I had started believing that there are only two emotions I can feel, sad and not-sad. The not-sad part was a numbness, a throbbing sore that you ignore because you can't deal with it any more. But over the last weekend, I realized there are more feelings I can

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-49349417875723282422009-08-16T21:49:00.000-05:002009-08-18T16:03:02.013-05:00

It's late, but it's still Freedom, isn't it ?He cut the thin paper in shape, Like one would cut a diamond.With a sharp saw he sliced the bamboo,And made a bow and arrow for the kite,Armed it with strength, So that the wind cannot tear it apart.He bought a long long string, so long,He will pay for it forever.He glued a tail at the end of the kite, So that the burden keeps it steady,When the wind

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-75438406939701654472009-08-11T14:01:00.000-05:002009-08-12T01:14:45.870-05:00

"Change is the only constant" - Heraclitus. Though I do fight and resist change but at the end of it all, I am always thankful for it. This post is all about stuff that changes or are changing around me.Season : Fall againThe leaves have started changing color. A little flutter of excitement stirs my heart as I see a little tinge of yellow here, a little red there, and anticipate the blaze in the

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-70994237721717671842009-08-04T20:57:00.000-05:002009-08-06T00:17:44.715-05:00

People have a very strange reaction soon after they get cheated, "How did I not see that coming ? Why did it happen to me? Why did I not know it then ? " Well err... without the element of surprise cheating is not exactly the same thing right ! But whatever be the response, being cheated is not a happy feeling. You place your trust on someone. It is a big thing. Trust is an expensive commodity,

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-28631284562709927452009-08-02T02:30:00.000-05:002009-08-02T08:58:25.344-05:00

The Phoenix lives for a thousand years,And then jumps into the fire to be born again.The bug molts, discards its old unfitting ugly skinAnd wears a new garb.Why does the Phoenix immolate himself ?What is it that he wants to wipe awayFrom the memory of four hundred thousand days?What does it want to forget ?And what is the point of being born again,If you cannot use your experiences ?If you have

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16796655.post-50486572160034367622009-07-26T20:42:00.000-05:002009-07-26T23:24:12.634-05:00

I wake up from sleep, with an old memory,Of a woman I had seen so many years backAbandoned at a railway station,She was complaining to an imaginary audienceHer face contorting with hate every time she spoke of someoneProbably the one who stole her home,Or the one who turned her out of it."Was that a premonition?Was that a warning?",I ask myself a summer morning.I brush off the memory and go to

Vaga Bondhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17475774794439578705borna.ghosh@gmail.com5