Excerpt for Bleeding Heart by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

Bleeding Heart


By Hiranya Borah

Copyright 2019 Hiranya Borah

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank You for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favourite authorized retailer.

Thank you for your support.


This book contains few poems based on different topics including love, heart breaks, heart burns, jealousy, social problems, environmental problems, historical tragedy, mythological tragedy and cultural evils leading to criminality. However, most of poems has an underlying tragic feeling of bleeding heart. Some of the poems have already featured in some of my earlier books.

Hope some of you will like some of them.

Thanks to my esteemed readers for their constant support to write something usual and unusual. I love them all.

I am always thankful to all my friends and relatives for their encouraging words. But without constant support of my family members, I could not have written anything for which I shall remain grateful to them.

However, this book is dedicated to my mother, my wife, my daughters and other beautiful ladies who directly or indirectly inspire me to write something.

I am also thankful to Ms. Julie Dutta Nath for providing her photograph as the cover page of the e- book.

Thanks to Smashwords for publishing this compilation of poems along with my other books.


An Elusive Husband

A beautiful lady of seventy something,

Lying on her bed,

Counting her days;

Looking at her ever-busy husband;

Told to herself something with an inaudible voice.

I never loved you dear;

I loved my dream husband,

Who used to carry me in his arms;

Putting me on the saddle of a galloping white horse!

He was the prince of my dreamland,

Who would cuddle me like a pub;

While sleeping, would embrace me

Like a bear of soft fur!

I was after the elusive husband,

Who would forget everything in my arms;

Ready to dump everyone for me.


Nothing happened like that in my life.

You could not arrange even a bike of my choice;

In our married life of long fifty years;


About riding on a galloping white horse,

Embracing you on your back,

Keeping no space for even an ant to move in!


I felt in my life;

You have been busy with your works;

Never spared few seconds for me;

Never dumped your friends and relatives for me;

How you could be the prince charming of my dream!

Many a times I saw

You are partying with your friends;

With full flow in their niperkins,

Forgetting our anniversary day.

Now I am dying;

Counting my days to say a final ‘Good bye’,

I have seen you weeping alone for me;

You have been nursing me day and night

For months together;

Without food and water on time;

Without proper sleep at night for days together;

Embracing me like a father,

To his little fearful daughter

At the middle of the night!

I am dying with a few drops of tear;

Full of gratification;

But not willing to come out from my dry eyes.

It is too late to tell you;

You are better than the prince charming of my dream;

By a thousand mile.

Now, I am happy,

To die with a flowing mind;

I was married to a man;

Lived with a man;

Who worked day and night only for me

And only for my children;

Who sacrificed all his comfort;

For the sake of happiness of mine and my children.

I lived with a man;

Who fought with me;

But never let me down before others;

Who scolded me many a times,

But never allowed anyone to scold me;

Not even by my own parents.

I married to a man,

Who loved me and cared me;

Protected me like an umbrella from a scorching sun;

Or from a drenching rain;

For long fifty years.

I am thinking now,

Why I could not find,

The charming prince of my dream;

In my ever-busy husband!

Life would have been different for both of us,

Had I told you long back,

In a foggy winter,

Or in a dazzling spring,

That, I love you,

My love, my charming prince.

An Elusive Wife

Wiping his tears on his eyes;

Looking at his frail wife;

The seventy plus husband;

Looked back their journey of Fifty years;

With a remorse in his mind.

I never loved you dear;

I loved my dream wife,

Whom I want to carry in my arms;

To put her on the bed of red roses,

Spread over a snowy valley of mountain!

She was the princess of my dreamland,

Whom I would cuddle like a soft pub;

While sleeping,

I would embrace her like a new born baby!

I was after the elusive wife,

Who would forget everything in my arms;

Ready to dump everyone for me.

My dream lady would not nag me on my bad habits,

Would not retort me back at any time;

But would cook best of the food.

She would bestow

Unconditional love without a whimper.

She would be a mother when she serves my food;

She would be a friend at my jolly time;

She would be like a sister,

While playing a game of cards.

I wanted to see her giggle;

At the slightest funny talk of mine;

Never wanted to see her frowning eyes.

But alas!

Nothing happened like that in my life;

You were nagging me all the time;

In our married life of long fifty years.

You had never served my food as my mom;

Nor you were playful like my sister;

Nor enjoyed my company like a friend of mine!

Always I felt in my life;

You have been busy with your household chores;

Never lose a single chance to scold me;

Never dumped your parents and friends for me;

How you could be the princess of my dream!

Now you are dying;

I cannot stop but weeping alone for you;

I understand what you are to me.

You are the mother of my children;

Whom you brought up without any help from mine.

You have been nursing me day and night when I fell ill;

Without food and water on time;

Without proper sleep at night for days together;

Embracing me like a mother,

To her little son at the middle of a winter night!

You are dying now;

My tears are flowing like river Nile-Blue and White;

Full of gratification for you.

I want to say you something,

But words are not willing

To come out from my dry throat.

It is too late to tell you;

You are better than the princess of my dream;

By a thousand mile.

Now, I am the unhappiest man on the earth,

To lose the best friend of mine

For the last fifty years;

Realization is too late:

I was married to a woman;

Who loved me

And cared for me for long fifty years;

But whom I could not love at a proper time;

Whom I could not tell,

‘I love you’ few years back.

Life would have been different for both of us,

Had I told you long back,

In a foggy winter,

Or in a dazzling spring,

That, I love you,

My love, my crowning princess of my heart.

A constable

Dancing long curvy hair might be of my lover’

The boy sat and said.

I saw, dew disturbed his eyes;

Twilight of a story or dawn of a new chapter;

I could not fathom.

Dead cannot say;

So the dancing hair could not say:

How beautiful was the possessor of the dancing hair!

Hope this is not her’

He could only hope.

I never saw her;

But possessor of the dancing hair might be awesome!’

I sighed.

Dusk had descended;

Nobody noticed.

Dancing hair is going to be invisible!

Tide may be coming;

In the eyes of the boy.’

Tide, please do not come’

He might have told to himself.

I had a duty to wait;

I wanted to see the possessor’s swollen face.

The eyes of the boy also wanted to see her;

Beyond the curvy dancing hair.

Had she broke her promise?’

He has asked to himself.

She promised to show her face;

Hiding under the veil, on a specific day!

Coming from a place of teary eyes for rain;

To a place fearful of pouring of water from the sky;

Far off from a society;

Torn between class, caste and religion;

Is he going to lose his heart?’

He thought and thought for hours.

I was told;

Wait till the dawn arrives for a new day.’

I could not see the eyes of the boy;

Nor I could see the dancing hair any more.

Darkness engulfed my mind and my eyes.

Both of us had to wait for a new dawn,

With different reasons.

I had to wait because my boss could not wait,

His son had to celebrate his birthday on that night.

My ailing mother wanted me,

To be with her on that night,

As she had to leave this earth forever on that night itself.

The boy had to wait

To see the swollen face

Of the possessor of the curly beautiful hair.

We did not know each other;

Neither had we wanted to know.

I cursed my luck,

Even he could not do that,

Because he had a slim hope,

Dancing long curvy hair might not be of my lover.’

Bleeding Heart

After a lonely evening,

I could see from the corner of my eyes

Darkness was crawling to my small room.

I searched for the switch board;

I forgot;

Where it was;

Over my head

Or on the side wall.

I was about to hit the stool;

Someone carelessly must have placed on my way;

Or I was on the wrong path!

What science has done for us!

Light becomes available at night in abundance;

No need for moonlight to touch;

Your skin and mind.

At the twilight,

You do not fear for darkness;

You need not have to fear for loneliness;

If you have resources to buy;

Light in abundance!

Far from civilization,

Far from science;

Far from artificial resources;

Even now a child cries for light at dawn!

I was drifting away from my dark room;

Still searching for the switch board;

Somewhere on the wall or on the overhead!

Suddenly my room was illuminated;

Through the open door;

Sweet and soft light entered slowly in to the room.

My mind and spirit were enlightened,

With sweet smell of evening freshness!

I raise my head;

To see the source of the light;

To know how far it was!

It was a full moon day;

Or it was a full moon night!

I did not know;

But my mind and spirit was full of evening freshness;

The freshness I used to love from my adulthood!

The moon was not far away;

It was at a touching distance.

I did not dare to touch the moon;

Fearing for losing it.

Moon smiled at me like my mother;

Or like my sister,

Or like my daughter!

She kissed me on my forehead and told,

You can touch me;

You can love me;

I am yours.

Darkness loosened its grips;

From my room,

From my mind and from my heart!

But moon light vanished all on a sudden,

Someone switch on the artificial light,

To drive away darkness from my room.

My heart started bleeding once again!

Cacophony of a Mammal

I do not know;

From where I came from.

I was told, I was born,

As a child to a human couple;

Like any other mammal,

Through a natural process,

Starting from a simple mating of two adults.

I was inside the womb of a female body;

Later on I came to know;

She is my mother.

I also grew

After taking first sip of milk,

From my mother’s beast;

As my first food;

And I began my journey of life;

Like any other mammal on this earth.

After few years,

I was told by someone, I am a Hindu;

Few years later,

I came to know about my caste,

When I was abused by a classmate not from my caste;

But studying in a metropolitan college.

I met a girl couple of years ago;

I did not know her caste or religion.

I fell in love with her for her beauty and honesty.

My love was true for her;

She also reciprocated,

Without knowing my caste and religion.

Her love for me was as pure as mother’s milk.

We also wanted to reproduce;

Offspring like any other mammals on the earth;

You call them children;

I wanted to call them;

Only offspring to keep my lineage;

For reproduce another generation of mammals;

We call them Human;

Without caste and creed.

But her parent thought otherwise;

She was thrown out of her home;

My mother told me;

‘She is not from our caste’.

I took her to my father’s home;

The home,

I all along thought to be my home, as well.

My father kicked both of us out of his home;

Without even asking where we would go.

Both the family accused us;

We brought disrepute to our families.

Someone from her family killed her;

Someone called it, honour killing.

Now I want to join her,

I do not know where;

I do not know,

From where I had come,

Two and a half decades ago,

Without clothes, religion and caste;

Not even with repute and dis-repute.

But I want to go to the same place;

Where probably still now,

There is no caste, no religion,

No honour and no honour killing either!

A Father, a Daughter and a Beast

He told me to remove my frock.

I recalled,

Two years ago;

My father used to remove my cloths;

For giving me a bath;

Or to change my dress.

I cherish those days of mine;

With my deceased father.

He kissed on my bare body.

That reminded me of my deceased father;

Who used to kiss me on my bosom,

I used to giggle on his every kiss,

He used to place on my small body,

A body of three year old daughter.

He forced me to spread my legs.

That reminded me of my deceased father;

Who used to spread my legs;

To clean my private parts;

And to dry it by using the best of the powders.

Still I used to recall,

Powdering of my whole body;

By his tender hands.

But he left me alone;

With a selfish mother a couple of years ago.

My mother loves only herself;

Not her deceased husband nor me,

Till his death or till I am alive.

After taking control of

All the properties of my deceased father;

Kicking out my grandparents of their own home,

She married her secret lover of years together;

Within a year of my father’s death.

She introduced her newlywed husband;

As my new father for the rest of my life.

Yes, he became my father for the rest of my life;

A short life of only one year.

Instead of drying or powdering;

He inserted his finger in it.

I cried aloud in a piercing pain.

He laughed aloud

Which sent a simmering fear in my heart.

I stopped crying,

In fear

Or as I lost all sensitivities in my tiny body.

I lost my sense when he abused me thoroughly,

Blood was oozing out from my private parts;

To see me collapsed;

He became a worried monster.

He strangulated me;

Before he smothered my face

Beyond recognition;

With a hard object.

He dropped my lifeless tiny body;

Inside the septic tank behind our house.

I could have thanked him;

For sending me;

To meet my deceased father;

At a place where tranquillity and peace;

Rule the minds and spirits.

But I could not thank him

With a second thought,

Even the rampaging lion,

Who kills the offspring

Of the erstwhile leader of the pride,

Never abuses sexually the young females.

He killed my father treacherously,

Then abused me sexually before killing,

How can I thank him for my death?

My father was waiting at the golden gate,

Of a small cottage;

By opening his arms to receive

His beloved small and tiny daughter.

Now, there is no stain of blood;

On my white cloths.

There is only fragrance of a perfume

Of pure love of a father;

On the white dress, my father had given,

Two years ago, on my third birth day.

With a smile in his face,

Hugging me in his chest,


This is the place,

Where a daughter can live

With her father forever,

With her head high and without any fear.

Last Wish of a Mother

I knew,

I was ugly, I was rustic,

I was blunt, I was powerless,

I was money-less, I was worthless,

I was less

Of good and appropriate words

With appropriate meaning,

I was hopeless in all aspects of a modern life.

Even then I was priceless

For my family and friends

A few Years ago when,

My husband and young children

Used to love me.

I was always positive

To face any eventuality in those days.

I always tried to use a positive sentence

Even after realizing,

I was in a hopeless position

Or at a hopeless situation.

At all times,

I used to laugh at myself more than others;


Whenever I looked at my families,

Whom I love, for their support;

Financial or emotional,

I was sure to get.

But time has changed.

I am reminded by my near and dear ones every day,

I am ugly, I am rustic,

I am blunt, I am powerless,

I am money-less, I am worthless,

I am less of

Good and appropriate words,

With appropriate meaning,

I am hopeless in all aspects, of a modern life.

Now I am useless for my family and friends.

Few Years ago,

My husband had left me

To face my changed children

Who used to love me once upon a time,

When they were young and vulnerable.

Time has changed,

People are changing,

Minds have been changing.

I have been also changed by time;

I am no more positive,

To face any eventuality now-a- days.

I no more try to use a positive sentence

Even after realizing it may invite trouble for me.

I forgot to laugh at myself any more.

My children think,

I am a burden

And I should make an early exit;

From their life and from this world forever.

As my death refuse to come at an early date,

They decided to abandon me to die,

Without any medical aid.

Even then my death refuse to come.

One of them suggested;

I may be sent to an old age home.

Who will pay?

There was a deafening silence in the room.

Another suggestion came from another child,

‘Can we keep her inside her room?

Without food and water,

Till she dies.’

Finally, I called one of them and told,

‘Drop me in a river,

At least I shall not die,

Without water for days together!

I shall think;

That is the Ganga Jal,

You have forced on my mouth

Even before my death!’

Modern Definition of True Love

What is love?

Is it sharing of good days and bad days alike?

Is it standing by you when you are depressed?

Is it just sharing a bed?

Or just sharing a bank account?

Or just staying with you without sleep;

In a hospital when you are ill?

Or roaming in a mall, hand in hand?

Or just eager to know your welfare?

Or just to wait for your phone call at night;

After everyone goes to sleep?

Hugging in public,

Or saying I love you in public;

Is that the ultimate love?

Putting your name as a joint owner,

On all the immovable properties of mine,

Will prove my love for you?

Or sharing the locker in the bank,

Will ensure love for you?

No, my knowledgeable friend told me;

With a whisper!

Sharing of your pass word of FB accounts;

Sharing of your pass word of your mobile

And sharing of your PIN of your Credit card;

That is the modern definition of Love!

If you can share these three with someone,

You love him or her;

Without any dilution;

Your love is eternal;

Your Love is heavenly;

Your devotion is complete!

My friend confided

If it is so,

Please do not love me;

I told to my sweetheart;

She released me from her arms;

With a smile, void of innocence;

Void of love.

She extended her hand for an amount;

That I had promised to her for that evening;

For some intimate time with her.

I found no difference;

Her with the lady staying in a house;

We conveniently call it as a ‘brothel’.

Birth Day of a Father

A cute baby becomes a murky old man;

Still he likes and waits;

To hear the three letter sentence;

Happy Birth Day.

Still he likes to hear from his near and dears;

Many Returns of the Day.

Still he enjoys;

When his elder says;

God Bless You.

He still returns every wish;

With a ‘Thanks’

Or with a ‘Thank you’

Or with a ‘Thanks a lot.’

Still he recounts how his mother;

Kissed on his cheek

Remembering her pain of ecstasy at the time of his birth.

Still he recounts how his siblings;

Fought for little more milk-rice prepared by his mother.

Still he recalls,

How his father gave his stoic blessings.

Even few years ago,

He used to get birth day wishes;

From few youngsters;

Whom he considers at par with,

His son, daughters, brother and sister;

He used to enjoy their wishes with same enthusiasm;

What he enjoyed as a kid few decades ago.

A small kid still lives inside his old body;

Who loves all the importance;

Bestowed upon him by his well-wishers;

On his D day.

Some of them were elders;

Most of them were youngsters;

Some were as young as

His own grandsons or granddaughters;

He used to enjoy their best wishes;

Like a small kid of ten;

Even after crossing sixty-plus springs of his life.

He loves all of them,

Used to thank all of them from his heart.

All these have stopped,

For the last couple of years suddenly.

Actually for the last couple of years,

Nothing had happened like that.

He suddenly realized,

None has time now to say the old man

A ‘Happy Birthday’.

He got up from his slumber.

He was waiting the whole night for a phone call,

From his only son,

To get a Happy Birth day wish from him,

Staying thousands of miles away,

In a country of dreams.

Probably, his son forgot to wish him,

Due to other important works in his hand.

But even now he hopes to get another;

Happy Birth Day wish and some Blessings,

From someone he loves,

Just only after 364 days!

The Last Birth Day Wish of a Husband

Few decades ago,

On this day,

A rich man of a big city;

Was blessed with a baby girl.

Everyone one was happy

In welcoming the new 'laxmi' of the family.

But they never thought,

This baby girl was destined to face,

Lot of hardship in her married life.

She was brought up in a family,

Where the main lady was dependent

On few domestic helps

For her daily chores.

To move around,

There was a car standing along with a driver for her.

Though there was no dearth of good matches for her,

She opted for a young officer

With rural modest background.

After her marriage,

She had to leave her studies mid-way;

She had to bring up three children of her own;

Practically without any help from anyone on the earth.

Her husband bought his first car,

After long 16 years' of their marriage.

She had to move around the country with her husband,

Who could afford only

One room set in most part of his life.

With all the difficulties,

She stood by her husband

In his struggle to afloat in this world.

Happy birth day

To that brave and beautiful lady of my life.

She is my friend, philosopher and guide;

She is my lovely wife.

It was the last birthday wish of her husband,

Before he left this world forever.

None has wished her

Happy birth since then as passionately as her husband.

She looks at the last birthday wish of her husband,

On her every subsequent birthdays,

Just to shed few drops of tears,

Searching his smiling face,

In the deafening darkness of her loneliness.

Terrorists and Brave-hearts

Clad with a pyajama,

Sitting on the floor,

Reading a letter from his pregnant wife;

Lakhan yelled to his friend;

I have to go home;

Gita is expecting in the next month!

I too want to go home;

My mom is still not well;

Irfan also echoed Lakhan.

Why you are silent Subedarjee?

Any information from home?

Nothing special, son passed 12th,

Going to college regularly.

They were just gossiping;

In the early morning;

Taking a sip of coffee.

Some were yet to discard;

Lovely morning sleep!

They were not aware,

A group of cowards;

Approaching their tents;

With lethal weapons.

Lakhan, Irfan or Subedar;

Never worried for death;

Nor feared for a battle;

But they were talking;

About pregnant wife or ailing mother!

The cowards blasted a grenade;

Near to their tent!

All of them were ready to fight back;

Picking up their arms;

But fire engulfed the tent;

Closing their exit!

They could have fired back;

But they preferred to die,

Thinking their bullet might hit;

Their own men fighting with the cowards.

They died, but they did not use their weapons;

Thinking they may hit another Brave-heart;

They preferred to die!

Death of a Scoundrel

That scoundrel has died;

The young girl commented about her former boss!

Do not criticise the dead man;

Her mother advised her!

Why I can’t?

She asked with an irritation in her voice!

Dead man becomes dear to God;

Mother explained to the young girl!

Then why every year Mahisasur is slayed?

Why Duryodhan is still condemned?

Why Ravan is burnt on every Dussera?

Why Hitler is criticised for his deed?

Why we criticise the colonial rulers;

All who died long long back?

Why we call General Dyer as Monster?

Even Mahatma is not spared for some of his decisions!

Even God is not spared,

Apparently when he does not hear to us!

Then why I cannot criticise;

The person who molested me?

Only because he is a dead man now?

Should we follow the politicians;

Who fight tooth and nail when alive;

And then place a wreath on the dead body;

And pay their last respect with some photo opps?

Then they give few articulated speeches;

In the honour of the deceased?

Mom, I am an ordinary person;

Made of flesh and blood;

Having a small heart;

Which bleeds when it is hurt.

Let me criticise the dead man;

Who gave me so much pain when he was alive;

When he was in power!

Those who were not victims,

Can give a long lecture on,

Forget and Forgive!

The victims, whose hearts bleed;

Will never forgive and forget!

Even death will never cleanse;

The blood that flowed from the hearts of the victims!

Mom, do not show your greatness;

By advising me not to criticise a dead monster!

On Saying I Love You

Nobody is an expert

On saying, I love you,

More than I;

He claims before me.

He is not surrounded by beautiful babes;

As I expected, as per his claim;

When I met my friend at his den!

You are joking;

You Bl—y B—d;

I said with a laugh.

He took me to an orphanage;

He embraced all the kids,

One by one and said;

I love you my dear sweetheart!

Then he took me to an old age home;

He said every lady;

Hi Sweety, looking very beautiful today;

I love you darling!

He told the old man,

Who was looking to the sky with a dejected face;

Hey, old f—g boy,

Why you are so upset today?

I love you, old bl—y hack.

His presence in the orphanage,

In the old age home,

Illuminated hundreds of faces!

All look forward to his next visit;

Then my friend took me to a Gosala;

He talked to the cows;

Everyone with a different name;

Saying ‘I love you, black beauty’ to one.

I love you, red monkey,

To another one and so on!

He took me to a garden,

Introduced his friends in their best attire!

In the forest,

He talked to the trees;

He uttered the same sentence,

I love you, my friend,

Darling, Sweety and Sweet heart or Honey!

Everywhere he was acknowledged;

With an open heart,

With open mind and arms!

He goes always empty hands;

But with a smiling face,

With a sympathetic heart,

To all these places.

At the end of the day;

Purchase this book or download sample versions for your ebook reader.
(Pages 1-42 show above.)