Tuesday, 22 December 2015

YOUNGER SISTER (In commemoration of my younger sister)

The moment this embroidery Kantha stitch came before my eyes,
It comes to my mind it was once shown to me when my sister was alive.

So many years she passed away, my poor younger sister, I never
Forget her, and for so many divergent works, she performed,
Either in parent’s house, or in her husband’s house,
She became curators of all happenings around her, and we
are mare observers on her destiny, leaving behind one daughter
And one son, who are perhaps suffered harsh terms of living
With life, in their father’s home of loneliness. 

I get hurt at every event she suffers,
Introduced one lie, about her death,
I believe something; do not believe many things,
She is no more, but covers surroundings,
In my mind she is an idol of sorrow,
And for that I roam places of
Importance where she moved while alive,
Only seemingly feeling of missing links arrives,
I do not want to hear it, and leave the place,

This homemade Jessor Kantha embroidery makes me
Remember, catastrophically remember this world
Lonely and nostalgically evidence of my younger sister’s past
And present latitude of message of her pain stitched.

Tuesday, 8 December 2015


In autumn morning,
Village path, vibrant sunlight,
Dancing with mist,
Symphony everywhere,
Euphoria with time and rhyme

My mind goes with scene
Nature speaks with words and mists
Sunlight in delight,
Mind dances with freshness of

Rising sun and morning shine. 

Sunday, 6 December 2015


Vision unbound in harbor passage,  
Water responsive from dream spot,
Too vast for a voyage, we begin,  
Quest starts back from school days.

This December my attempt starts
From street, from rout chart enigmas
One way, crossing it by steamer
The river gets elongated fiesta in port.

A singing motion, envisioned catharsis,
Shrills of walking on mud, sediments,
Salty taste of water, are stages with
Thrills and penance, vision is charm.

On the journey, we reach nearer to
Deep whims and sacrifice of existence,
Our foot prints and home are presents,
All attempts in reality carry our dream.


Tuesday, 1 December 2015


Night, fog and lens,
River, greens, light, coolness,



White morning mist cuffs
Hands of nature’s cycle,
Harvesting time,
Red sun peeps on paddy field,

Emptiness filled with love.  

Wednesday, 11 November 2015


I walk to the construction site
Soil is prepared, r.c. column tries to grab the sky,
Rubbish, building materials scattered everywhere,
Metro railway on the foreground with sidewalls,

Buildings crab to get architectural beauty,
That fits to the new town’s appearance.
I want to search lost field’s greenery,
It is bounded with fencing at some places,
Either it is a mall premises or lawn to sit-and-eat,
Having one big sign-board, “Multi Cuisine Restaurant”,
Cosmopolitan town just takes the shape,
And sign of purposeful commercial intent,
Living here is a boast for those who can afford price,
Cemented whims is established with no grudge,
We need not think of the past, exposure is there
Just to walk beside the glimpse, edge of dream.  

Friday, 6 November 2015


I walked too often to find roots
Of quiet place – away from home
And many times, I am plunged
Between two roads, striding away
In a long and strenuous journey.
Instead, I have to wash away dream
From my mind, dry pathway makes
Me frustrated, restraining me from
This wild journey, and excesses
Have been done upon my mind,
Sweet home is the prince,
Filling peace in everyone’s mind,
Rescuers are not at red soil or metallic road.

From daybreak to evening,
I learnt to stay at home, even if
I am dried out with thirst
Or melt in agony, none has loving tongue.

Thursday, 5 November 2015


Narrow stream
Riverbed almost dry
People’s plunder
Down to flowing of water

They place pieces of bones. 


See those small flowers in the garden,
Whose blooming has pride to molten
Aggrieved mind with enshrined chants
To resume work for life, tearing wrenched
Fragrance of strained mind, to see abode

Of life’s journey with love and innocence. 

Sunday, 1 November 2015

Short story slam week 32: Unexpectedness

image credit: http://bluebellbooks.blogspot.in/

His mystic appearance is mystery again,
And wings appear preparedness very much,
Classic forbearance dominates edge of
Entertainment, without disgust or pity,
It tells something, scatters humor, and
Background is filled with argument of the unexpected.

When observance wane solitude,
Situation turns into merriment,
With signs and wonders of cosmic change,
Children love it to play with this outline of drawing.
This lends something believing love has no ending
With proceedings of creation that recreates it every time.

Sunday, 18 October 2015

Short story slam week 31: HALLOWEEN at DISNEY WORLD

Disney World,
It looms in
Mist of Halloween,
Illumination turns mystery,
As if it is dancing in the air,
Bending body in fairy light,
People will stare at those
Imagery tomorrow’s plan.
Fantasy becomes
Consumers’ song,
It happens like ghost.
Yet dream consumes man,
Happenings consume fate,
Shadow consumes color.

Need changes definition. 

Friday, 16 October 2015


Yellow response of
Autumn, eyes of Devi Durga

Fills mind, sacred space.  


They speak in the night
When light plays fairy glimpse
On places abandoned in garden.
All friends wear pale costumes
Ghostly eyes in the skyline mist
Amid dead souls standing around.

All gather in clean weather
Just about to knock the door
At the stage to make themselves appear
With outrage romp up,
Rolled out towards stony eyes,
And they are Halloween players.

They make something vague
That makes room for more scared whims.

Thursday, 1 October 2015


Over the glass window
Raindrops trail watery path

An escape route down. 

Thursday, 13 August 2015


Torrent descends first,
Muddy water dissolves the passage,
You cannot go on boulder-path,
You cannot choose river bed
As your choice of precedence
To go for upstream tour, for love,
It’s not secure; here is story of wrath,
Rain-water goes violent, stone wall
Succumbs to its reigning, its force-strain
Pertaining to impressions of regrets, 
The river has to obey flowing chart,
Calling you for running away
As water does in its turning back
To rock-way from descending enclave,  
Triumphant we are not always. 

Note: Earlier poem is published in Facebook and here is the revised poem. 

Sunday, 2 August 2015


Water, it is sometimes reflective, sometimes it is destructive,
None of its nature does care for living, it moves with freedom,
While flowing in a river, or in water pipes, for human use, and
Life is still here, domiciled, or imagined staying of solvency.

In my last tour, you just carry sun-rays in your reflective swirls,
Boulder-road is built, silent wave thread, pedestrians moving
Alongside vehicles, river bed works as platform for road,
Water not making whirlpool, water makes whole decision for

Human being, it does not tilt basins, or break shore, peaceful,
In my today’s tour, you have built a chasing universe, stresses
Within water drive, along past-present asymmetry, and
It is always not to be seen, it is yours pattern, not in

Accordance with fanciful, radial pattern, and there is
A chiral revelation of water molecules, central growth,
It repeats in every rainy season, and it becomes more
Excited when water released from dams, to protect them,

Water, it is your transportation, I do not mix it with legend,
And the river does not leave from here; it does not make fossils,
Wave after wave, it transverses life, carrying certain
Capability to move us for living and doing something exciting

Saturday, 1 August 2015


I see you grow near this home,
Its owner gentle one to pluck
You for offering his prayer to God,
And he will protect you all time.

You know what to say before God,
Everyone takes you home, that is
Why prayers are worldly and your
Submission by donors is heavenly

Bliss, something we have to learn
From your turn of pristine values,
We want to have this on the earth.
Perhaps you know it best to offer.

With all your otherness, devotees
Create an image, with flowers, for
Blessings and good happenings do
At least come for them following time.

It is hard to arrive at conclusion
How far your favor can bring auspicious
Days over exposed evils, yet
Colors does motivate in your presence.

Wednesday, 29 July 2015


I first went to this garden,
Green greets me, I respect it,
Coconut and betel nut trees are in queue,
With attention, I moved into it.

In its singing blitz,
Pets are also inhabitants,
A symbol that reveals continuity,
Translating truth in reality.

Assimilation, a trait inside,
A kind of morphemes of life,
Consciousness being present,
A dream turns into congruent fullness.