Morning Raga

Let us sit down at the bank of the dawn. It never snow in our city Kolkata; The fog thus will hide us, The dew from twilight will wet– The platform where we’ll sit. The shrouded shy sun-bathed breeze– Will sing the morning raga As we will weave silence between us. No kiss. No hand…… Continue reading Morning Raga

Beckoning

The lips, yours, tasted pages Of a new unread book; The breath, yours, flapping of pages Beckoning to explore