Friday, 5 November 2021

Patience !


The beginning is mysterious

The end fascinates

I see its flight

The projectile of life….

The own dreams, follies and a few deeds…

It lifts, soars high and touches the top

And descends….doesn’t fall…

A gradual descent…almost flat now

Like the pebble dancing upon

The smooth face of pool

Kissing and flying, both transient…

The end is beautiful..

Learning the best of it….

The silence of life

The silence is signature of patience

Drawing, designing, painting it

In the best for a final go.

Saturday, 26 December 2020


 This is an attempt to translate a beautiful poem written in Bengali by my childhood friend and life partner, Lopamudra...

Candles walk in…arrayed in the darkness

Dumb, deadened, yet aflame in dull habit;

Defeat is not the fire, a social identity,

Yet, the faith is not a piece for all.

The nature is all set to be bankrupt,

Why still is such intense search for lies?

The debt has outgrown repaying strength of life.

In this yellow wilted ancient age,

Sins appear, one by one…candles in hand

Alike baby snakes; venom trickles down the wretched spine,

The mighty curled snake of revelation

Wakes up from a deep slumber in faint light of candles.

Saturday, 31 October 2020

The Fall !

 I can hear the sacred hymns of life

In rustles of those fallen leaves

Curled into uneven memories 

I can hear the whispers of the Fall

Of the end…the end not so far

Monday, 3 August 2020


Have we crossed the path?
In the realm of my noon
Beside the placid pool
Shadowed in the embrace of trees
Where water spiders dream
In leisure of sleeping leaves
Did I meet you there?
Sailing in my slender boat
Through a silver stream 
Bathing in moonshine
Have I seen you alone beneath 
A lonely branch on the bank?
Was it you, in whiteness of black?
The gentle stroke of my oars
Echo the wailing of ripples
Following each other never to meet
Have I touched you ever
On the alluring shore
Between the fading footprints?
The waves kiss the sky
Wings of little gull scoop the mist
For wishes to creep into
Did I see you on the beach?
The path soaked in crimson blood
Believing in colours of love
The dust tells the tale of the last traveller
Who vanished behind the bend unknown
Did I lose into your shadow there?
The night is aging, so is time
So am I, are you too?
Amidst the brown leaves
Some wilted emotions die
Amidst rustles somewhere
Have I heard your footsteps?

Thursday, 30 July 2020


Why to confine you more?
It has lasted for moments
And hours, for days and years
Justice never meted 
Reasons never assigned
Purpose never had mission
The learned raven goes on
Chanting the sacred name
Knowing neither ends of the tale
The path has too many bends
Shrouded by mist, 
Pebbles are nostalgic
Inert is the cage
Passion does no more bind you
Find you behind those bloody veins
Why to confine you more?
They move from space to space
Delight flourishes in flight
Burn the wings of wishes
The ashes shall have no remorse
Between cells, why to shuttle in and out?
The divine gift lies unconscious
In forlorn corner of sky
The golden moon weeps 
Her face loses shine in the wane
Still shining? Still revolving in 
A passion to come closer one night?
The celestial flight leaves a signature
Upon the universe; who knows how
Shall it make me bankrupt soon?
Is it securing a place on the page
Or a dot is just a dot—an aberration
Of thought or pursuit of some dream
Suddenly interrupted by an exclamation?
Why to confine you more?
The night is living
So is the day
Alive is the worm or the rose
The faint broom of light 
Reminds that the dying comet is still alive
Alive is the sun
Burning till the end
A dwarf shall be dark and heavy
With void attracting 
Devouring all in a moment
Will it confine you too
As I do now?
Will there be justice
That you deserve
The liberty that you seek for?
How does it matter for me?
I have only loved you
Encaged, chained to a distant dream
Lying naked, abandoned
I love to see you there
I envy your purity
Like then, I used to hold you close
Loving, caring, like a bud of a rose
It is all a forgotten tale
There is nothing left but the wings
Heavy, unable to flutter it more
I love lying motionless beside you
Folded those wretched wings
I love seeing them idle
Never wished to fly
I love seeing them confined
Purposelessly honouring my company
As you do, unloved in the cage
Only it pricks so often
Why to confine you more?

Tuesday, 28 July 2020


I live in a sepia world
Where the Sun is not a star
And, the Moon in not a satellite

Friday, 24 July 2020


Some faces never fade,
Some moments never die;
For a war-torn life,
Those remain a symbol of peace.

They sat—the man and the woman, side by side;
Silently glow twenty five candles
To burn a few pages of memories
Of a little girl whom the angels brought for them
On one such day to shine on their eyes.

She would lie on his lap
Gently holding her mom’s hand,
With eyes broadened would endlessly tell
What amazing things she had discovered.
Every day, he would dream of a new tale
To tell her, else how would she sleep?

The candles burn
The pages burn
Burns the last glimpse of those innocuous eyes
Burn colourful wings of the butterfly
Burns a new school tunic.

The man dreamt of a new tale,
But the evening dug the grave for it.
The tiny bird was snatched away
From a tiny nest that her parents built,
Not even knowing, why...why?

None could see her again;
Maybe, she was killed
Maybe, she was sold
Maybe, she was rescued
Maybe, she grew up
Somewhere, in another distant moon.

The father still dreams of her,
The mother still sobs alone,
Maybe, she still too weeps
If she is alive; maybe, she’s not!

Maybe, she needs to dance
Amidst smoke and stench
For to carry her father’s dream
Of feeling how precious is life;
Maybe, sleep evades her eyes
For a tale to be told by her papa,
Maybe, she is too tired of tales of life,
If she is alive; maybe, she’s not!

Her papa roams in and searches for
Within faces of every girl of her age,
Ceaselessly guessing, “Isn’t she my doll?”
Maybe, if she is alive; maybe, she’s not!

The dream story lies hidden
Within moaning soul of an old father,
Maybe, to remain forever untold;
Maybe, destiny does not permit
Some promises to be kept...maybe!

(A repost )

Patience !

  The beginning is mysterious The end fascinates I see its flight The projectile of life…. The own dreams, follies and a few deeds...