Friday, 8 February 2019


Fifty years ago, this bridge was lonely, approach-road was being constructed, no high rise building was there, and sound of the flowing water of channel can be heard.

One day I find a girl used came to this bridge every day in summer, and summer after,
Who drew attention as fuel to see her and to arrange a situation to talk with her,
She might be from a nearby village, now a part of city. One occasion, I ventured to speak rapidly, with syllables quivering with the sense of nervousness, and I said,

-  “Hi, I think you live nearby.”

She did not answer. She stood still, and looked at me with her beautiful eyes, As if I could not stir her silent kingdom for the answer. After a little while, she turned towards her way from where she came. To me, she was interesting and loving.  And I kept my way continuous with my attempts, and she used to come daily, as usual.

One day I went inching closer to her body and immediately after she opened ANCHAL of her sari and swung upon me and I stood like stone draped with beautifully crafted cotton art work of Anchal.

-          “Use this perfume. Then I will talk to you.”

I stood inside her ANCHAL as if I stood on her condition that insisted me to honor her request, that to be saved privately, As if she would give me all her heart if I did perform exactly what she asked. The smell of her body, perfume, beating of heart – all gave me a feeling of love, excitement, newness of young change, desire to stay in this way many a day, a true way to think about, to live about, to touch around, to hold about, to sink within, to dwell with, to obey her words, above this place, this region, and overall above this hemisphere to the universe.

My speech still remains in my heart.

Tuesday, 15 January 2019


Poush Parbon Pithe (Bengal Cuisine)

My childhood around SUBARNAREKHA
Not vivid, I forget its vastness,
Its voice of flowing water,
It was for three years, sixty years back.

Like moving waters, like disturbed banks,
Unexpected floods in rainy days, wake me
Up around beetles in clogged water, in field,
I was eager to announce I am not capped cave,

Rather I am living like images of flowing water
That gives way to possibility of survival
And existence making tracks of wellbeing,
I spend sixty years, outside of glowing SUBARNAREKHA.

Today, in search of childhood, its breath,
A painting just arrives before my eyes,
Quiet arrives with a long beautiful bridge, almost dry riverbed,
Melancholy now holds me in breath.

It is like sight of nature’s game, and also journey
On vast way of my struggle, like water current,
As if I am still listening to the song of flowing waters,
As if love lingers all in heart of my attention,

And I want to say
Love me more,
Comfort me more,
And I want to listen to the echoes of forgiveness. 

Sunday, 13 January 2019


Now looking at you
In this morning, I open
My heart to you for
Love, like flowers, to get feeling,
In the warmth of breathing.


Mind filled with love,
Sun-rays move into colors,
I see the leaves,
Hopeful shore, as a man,
I breathe in the nature.

Friday, 4 January 2019


How much you see of the world from your glasses?
Can you see what it is lie?
Can you see what it is anger?
Can your eyes see a lot of beautiful things?
Alas! Your tender and delicate eyes are poor in sight.
Yet you want to see whole of the world from window,
You want to see the world with joy on the new year’s arrival,
The courage you hold to bridge the gap in new dimension of
Love, and I pray for you in this new year-eve, no trouble
Touches you for your journey, just all things may create
A beautiful triangle - your spectacles, the world and the vision,
Towards full recovery to fall all the three in a straight line,
And you will know you overcome the test
And make farewell to your spectacles, your glances are free.             

Monday, 31 December 2018


First New Year day 2019
I pray, not to morn for complexity,
It is the day to hold truth and dream.
Everything that touches truth turns to gold,
And everyone who stands with dream
Finds comfort in golden touch of
Surrounding and one feels the Bliss,
No thorn is there to sting when
Everyone has to walk upon the land
That is to be more insisting to stay cool,
And travel upon the sea and the sky
To be more free, not cordoned with
Match box living, windows shut, but
With imagination for sailing to the sun
To bring components of atom
To master over grief, to create
Worthy citizen to know complexity,
To win over clumsy chains of unworthy
Exodus narratives, the mob exhibits.
Everyone has to carry desire, not as burden,
But with laugh, a new approach for love,
That comes from this New Year that loves to honor.

Thursday, 8 November 2018


Over the Chilika Lake, and
Boarded in a train,
On the way to home,
I am passing by the Lake,
To get soil, grain or a doll,
Or to find loved one.

Two boats through waters
Oh! How beautiful it is
In the autumn morning,
Blue sky, sparkling sun-light
On surface of water, I go,
Jingling with childhood days.

Over the Chilika Lake, and
Through morning delight,
I never thought of wood
To draw a curtain over
My journey, certain hope
I know holds the wind.

Over the Chilika Lake, and
Through the fishermen’s dream,
I can move to get fortune,
That may play a role
As far as I can stay on this earth,
This earth holds the birthright.

Over the Chilika Lake, and
Through the smile of sympathy,
As I have grown up old,
I am searching for loving faces
Of those who can drape me
With love and let me not to wait.

Over the Chilika Lake and
Through the colors above water,
I feel fascination with loud wows,
No blur, sharp focus, luck and elegance,
I will say, my love,
Don’t quit joy, let me enjoy.

Tuesday, 6 November 2018


One who is not a poet is a poet,
Diwali, night, darkness, light -
Simple likeness over darkness is
Whispers of dryness of illumination.

Life is whisper, light is a break and beginning
Of prize that keeps things shaped in life,
With time, events and manifestation of
Purpose, known or unknown, brings  

To receive colors of night to burn in
Illumination, above darkness behind shadows,
Lineage of truth that evolves breaks
In the night, creating morning, inside.

A rose cannot argue, glamour of light can do it.