Monday, 3 October 2022





It is a moment of magic and music. The horizon lets the sun enter above the vast ocean, with sunlight pouring down the earth, allowed for our eyes’ vision, that extends towards rich inner happiness, transparently shining, and I want to see it till my last breath. Two monuments of two great men, Swami Vivekananda Memorial Rock, and Sculpture of Tamil Poet and Philosopher, Thiruvalluvar, are architects, seen like natural span of human creation as hopes and treasure for world peace, visible in the sun-rise.   




I look in the sky, I do not find the sun, but see the outer line of the clouds that is illuminated, like wings of a bird,  showing that the sun is behind the clouds, as if the sun summons the clouds to hide its body, meaning that what is beauty is sometimes to be hided, for broader ambition, different from region to region, at different times, so as to breakaway a territory in nature’s whims, that has already sometimes created by us, and now we are on the threat of climate change, that we cannot avoid, but we feel it is not the heaven’s brilliant act, and yet we live in belief that we are moving on the path of God. Here it is real clouds, as here all are living in natural life, preserved like old Lake in watery vibes, not with extreme duress around the Lake with big roads like four lane, six lane, or eight lane formula till date. A little Kashmiri boy takes his little boat and an open oar in his hands to go on Lake Water, to buy bread for morning breakfast, heading for a grocery shop which is stationed on a boat on water.

-          ©  Asim Kumar Paul 02.10.2022

Tuesday, 14 April 2020




Remember it. Wall on the hill. In 2019
I travelled near Rajgir, with a search
For natural heart in scorched daily life.
I feel a challenge to find a place with valve
That changes mind, as it is turned to stone
So long with my burdened shoulders, not
To respond to love, and to flourish it, by
Going at a place outside the crowed that
Created a stony dictum amongst us, it is
To be cracked by a little social distance.

Today it is a reverse plight, four walls
Confined me, flattered by bricks, and
A virus crosses all limits many times faster,
Rocking us to shift at home, not sparing
A single moment to find ourselves own
Outside home, driving me to stay on
Home-stage to perform, sharing and
Breathing with people of own relations,
Not to escape from own cradle of early sky
That created love at the very time of birth.

© Asim Kumar Paul



He wants to find a cure
Not through Burning Ghats,
But through the bright blue horizon
Of hope with blessings of God,
And in a most photogenic way,
The announcement was made.

He made huge arrangements
For peaceful passages to a cured
Journey at right point of
Tall words, no confusion,
Silver images do astonish eyes,
Streets to home, mirrors besieged.

Then a pale blue wave danced down
On the sea beach, nothing can help it,
Down with dream, a new story arrives,
Bringing all things in a line is insulting,
The wave has a belly,
It cannot be glued with head, all is shut.

Air is locked, whisper is bounced
With the lobby, and the wave roars:
“You are strong, love is everywhere.
Look at the wave in front of you.
It tells something beyond you.
Think about another part of the
Same ocean beyond the horizon.”

© Asim Kumar Paul



For days long
On city along
One poet writes
Loneliness bites,
And longing strives,
Grey pages thrives,
Another poet sings
Rabindra Sangit.

For home alone,
On living stone,
One friend thinks,
The brighter side blinks,
Wants to go away
As finger tips sway,
To live separately
In a cave remotely,

Home is succinct,
Living is precinct,
Not to go away
To a tea-stall far away,
To a Adda with friends
At regular days’ end,
At a road crossing bend.
A friend thinks so.

On the home front
Some news comes up front,
One friend reads
Available research bids
On virus and makes
Friends aware of new marks.

© Asim Kumar Paul

They tell all to remain locked in home,
To keep up four-mitre distance between
One and another while moving outside
Home in urgency. A long journey, unfamiliar,
Roots and cause of virus shock everyone so long,
Fear begets fear, pain brings smoke, half-killing.
Smear gives the mood that detaches all,
All those episodes try to reveal a truth that
It has some wake up call for change where
There is some link of desire of acquiring
The huge left over assets those are denied
For those who never think of such vast treasure.

These are not adventures of people in
Burning Ghats or of gravediggers, but some
Sort of mischievous space between civilizations
And human control saga, motivated with
Luster of steering wheels of management and win
Over all resources of the earth that has to be proud of.  
It is time now for commons who are victims of it
To work for their benefit by the core of heart, benevolent
Research work under minus 100 degree Celsius lab
To combat hand-in-hand to throw out those who
Pervade peaceful region of common man and the nature.  

After then will begin simple living with food and shelter,
That will be movable and immovable assets, and dream
With blessings of God with air and water, without fear of
Mind, pronouncing everyone is the form of other one.

© Asim Kumar Paul

Tuesday, 7 April 2020


Something remains untold.
Something remains unattainable.
Something remains hidden.
Something remains unexplored.
Something remains not addressed.
Something remains unsung.

Something remains untold,
This summer someone walks on beach,
And jumps in the sea wave,
Flood of sun rays on beach is not his food,
He has to cook some stuff to eat. 
He finds some unpleasant object in water.
His displeasure is not photographed with it,
His way is not like that of others,
No balcony is there to print his footsteps,
All his stories have chance not to be told.

Something remains unattainable.
This evening someone walks past
Roads, buildings, plazas, hospitals,
His strides stop somewhere on earth,
He cannot keep glaring in social sharing,
He has no wings to fly in Disney land.
He is not stardust to be regarded attainable,
He will get loose, and stay in one corner. 
Long after he goes vanished of sight,
His stories are shifted to unnoticed blur.

Something remains hidden.
When trees are planted on earth,
Someone is the pioneer to prepare
Ground for garden and harvesting,
Fruits and corns are sources of knowledge
Of living and social bondage,
The reaper creates dream,
One day field mice, worms, ants eat away
Everything those are reaped, then onlookers

Smile, even being beneficiaries, do watch
The fallout from hiding, lending no message
That they can judge, and honor rewards,
And try to hide the fact instead, and his
Presence in his world remains hidden,
The knowledge he explored becomes property
Of others who steal it in range of
Propriety, this trick is highlighted as origin.

Something remains not addressed.
Fomenting zeal bounds someone to attend
The long line panorama with all like him,
Their status are mentioned in the resolution,
And finally when work has got progress report,
Total address of him and his clan has not been found
In the right place, not even mentioned
As stakeholders, so phenomenal evidence ignored.

There are performing heroes, can’t utter the story,
They cannot tell their breakthrough in streets,  
Their names and work-styles are at the controls of 
And gone by the heady plights of superiors,
These heroes live in rogue surface sliding out
From protection, not paid up by values, and
They are treated as citric, not allowed to speak,
And forced to reside as manipulated stratum
Like dust under fabulous carpet maintained by people
Living upstairs, those who cannot be brought down
To hear voices of dust, but can walk on sand beach.

Stimulation progressed on soul bounding vehicle
Windows are not always open to nurture freedom.
Disorganized things melt in bad arguments, and
Power bullets mascara never says all are well. Size
Of population maneuvered on size of business
Table and dinner on it causes for trampled commons.


Tuesday, 31 March 2020


They are waiting down, 
Stuck to self alienation, 
Miles away from ICU Unit
Where their loved one lying in hospital bed,
Because they cannot be visitors,
They are family members, friends. neighbors, 
They can’t come down to hospital,
They are staying at home,
They follow restrictions.
From distance, they look at each other,
Thus they let things go, space between 
One and another, just here to live in repose,
Crowned with social distance therapy,
Not getting warmed by touch, and
Looking in the sky is only to take breath
In this solar system, Mostly in home isolation,
Praying to Almighty God is the only way
For living and spending time on this earth, 
Turning and defying the fear of pandemic virus,
Anxiety is in their eyes, tears,
Murmur in silence they are in home.
They cannot go in to see or say good bye,
They cannot assemble in the act of farewell.
They are not detained, they are helpless,
Lung clogged, cough, and fever are the barrier,
They know it. And they do not go near.
Their words are on loose, cannot touch to feel,
Distancing is self quarantine, they can sail
With stars in night breeze, not with family
Closure to wards that means they have to choose
The way that they feels heartache,
Blue sky or blue sea doesn’t leave pride and purpose, .
Human teaching is wrecked.
Syllables of blessings are dethroned,
As if the world changes its realm
by meeting eyes and reading the face. 

The attending nurse sobs, and helplessly,
She guards the door all night, watching the patient,
She gets up on feet to see the patient at every
Sound coming from the patient’s ventilator
In a glass cabin of an isolation ward.
Almighty God is the rescuer.
Only turning up to hospitals, 
People do share gratitude
Showing their support for incredible
Work of doctors and nurses,
May Almighty God bless and
Protect to you all health professionals
Who are fighting against death on front.

Sometimes migratory birds chase
After lurks of fragile promises,
They stroll on higher orders,
No white robe they wear to protect,
They put fingers in the mouth,
Pandemic becomes their living curse.   

Material world is missing.
What we build so long is meaningless,
Losing strength for living,
We are at the mercy of spoiling habits,
Better to worse, step by step,
Then epidemic to pandemic
An unbroken chain,
With its link to invade human cell boundary,
With our nose towards exodus
Of morgues, we straggle as a pebble
On the sea shore for thousand years,
We hang upon frenetic trade balance,
And we cling to broken knob,
The door is open, to dive in death trap,
Hopefully, truth is not lost,
We will begin to ask questions,
Remedy and rescue will be in our arsenal.
The answer will not be demurral.

Saturday, 28 March 2020


I believe in nature’s pride,
Because it doesn’t act and
Pin its creation wrong way,
Flowers are in full bloom,
And not drugged to stone,
Universe is not breaking.
We are breaking, without
Touch, being confined in
Quarantine, as we denied
Our existence, so absorbed
In distancing ourselves,
Our activity somewhere
Collapsed, we are terrified.

Being captured in flowers’
Soothing soul, I find a big
Entrepreneur, nature is the
Castle that brings hope
And confidence of our
Survival in silent answer.