The Strings of Puppet

during birth, new born cry everyone smile

during death, death smile everyone cry.

comedy of life all call it,

I call it beauty of life.

during marriage, she cried everyone smiled

during night, she moaned he laugh.

fullfilment of love all call it,

I call it enslavement.

how beautiful the string of life pull by time

(Almighty many may says not time)

making us dance on the stages

design by moments

a group smile, a group cry

a group booh, a group yeah

a group laugh, a group growl

a group wrinkle nose, a group spit on it…

but at the end they just mixed up

to write the comedy.



I was suppose to be hiatus, but, sometimes what we want or desire can not be achieve. This poem I’m dedicating to Meenakshi Di to whom I had confess the self-impose hiatus and she doesn’t reply because she knows I cannot remain without writing a day. Thanks Di for believing in me and pushing me.

Another reason to write this poem is an event that disturbed me. I will talk on it later because it is an issue that I think I shall speak on.

Feel free to comment.



Author: Sangbad

A published poet. Avid Reader. Favorite authors (few) are Satyajit Ray, Saradindu Bandyopadhyay, Bankim Ch. Chatterjee, Jhumpa Lahiri, O. Henry, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, etc. Music lovers. Love to hear Rabrinda Sangeet, Anjan Dutt, Enrique Iglesias, Mozart & Beethoven (though can't say which is who's symphony). Dislike to get clicked. Love to be self (introvert).

17 thoughts on “The Strings of Puppet”

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