As I lie on the age old bed drowning in darkness I feel I need to grasp a whole lot of the air. Breeze is trespassing pushing the curtain Bringing the yellowed halogened spring Evening & splashing it on the chiaroscuro wall. This is not the autumn I look for this's 'nother spring. As I … Continue reading Imagination or…
Verses untold remain posit Like my oatmeal in the bowl. Morning has come when it was to Ascending of afternoon has started. The lorn lonely words finding sentence Like the dotted butterfly flying over leaves. বাটির তলানিতে যেমন পড়ে আছে ওটমিল চুপকবিতারা পড়ে আছে সে'ভাবে। সকাল এসেছিল নিজের মতো দুপুরের অবতরণ আরম্ভ হয় গেছে। রঙিন … Continue reading Lorn/নির্বাসিত
Dedicating to Sylvia Plath, one of my greatest inspiration.
Just a set of scribbles in Hindi (Transliteration).
the existence of silence can be found in depth of-- the stars; dead sparkling light enchanting. the life can be found throbbing in the bell jar; light, pale golden silver, of moon is hazed blue (from here). memories of past, bygone hoods changing shape with times--sometimes fireflies, sometimes shapeless abstract figures... the bray of heart, … Continue reading Fireflies
Breeze drenched... Dashami night caress the wet silence. The oil lamp at the pandal flickering Weak it is, 'lone it is; a subtle beauty. The tired soul of emptiness sighs soft Despising self; crowd, chaos it now wants. The halogen, lights of banner cast light- On pandal. Festivity sussarate leftovers. P.C. Gaganendranath Tagore My first … Continue reading Silence of Festival
A different pattern of poem writing I tried. There was a silence I found self lieng in. A silence that was rising from the waking up Sunday drooling bypass below, running infront house; A silence that was loiterring over the vale of Sweat soaked long-used mattress or is it this Monotonous humdrumed life that's basking … Continue reading Affair of a Trivial Sunday Morning