DREAM STONE

It is my dream stone,

This image makes me think of sun-rays, focus of those

Rays makes me of thinking of symbol of dynasty

Of past regime of creation, alongside meaning of life

In green foliage, it stands there for thousand years

Pertaining to many evolution of mankind and its dynasty,

It stands straight on my way and I cannot remove it.

I see it stronger than my effort to carry with dreams,

It does not need to be moved as it is not for sale,

Yet human being makes ponderous efforts to buy and sell

Its magnanimity, with price system, for use of ore it holds.

I have not seen its tears, in my life time,

But tears are there, I feel it, and cannot soothe its grief,

I go home, work for mine, quench thirst for me, yet

I do not see its emotion any time, so powerful it is to exist.

On my way, I talk to it, but it does not need to talk or write,

As we are all in its vicinity, we think of it, but do not give

Relax to it, and we read our future here in perfect stony will.

SECOND HOOGLY BRIDGE

As a passenger, I occasionally crossed this bridge

In public bus, with curiosity and fondness in heart,

It comes into my mind to walk down this bridge

With fun, as boyish fun, to view the city

On the river with calm mind, to breath in Kolkata air,

The large space would be highly pleasant resolved

Sense of life, that busy and clumsy city gets some

Freshness inside, and monotone syndrome gets

Relief from relentless running for shirt-button cage

And rubbing hands upon routine workloads,

The way we always quest for living, run on road,

I am not so far as, of my staying, from the bridge.

Hoogly’s bridge has no trick over its passengers

And cannot ask for blood, except eerie riders or

Bus drivers get their return, accidents are fateful

Prey, on every occasion, the bridge is silent.

I guess what fate and rough worldly sin it has

Observed and would witness with moving events

Upon it, of course, of happenings in Kolkata,

One day while passing on it, I remember,

I was accompanied with one nearest relative.

He had to move for dialysis of diabetic kidney failure

He only said, “How is the bridge looking in its vastness?”

He couldn’t seat on bed in the moving ambulance,

So weak he was, while he was taking 84th

Dialysis, it was his quest and jest on the earth.

I made a sincere reply, it seemed my words

Not satisfying him and he heaved a deep sigh.

I looked at the crowded buses and vehicles

And the sun just takes a peep from the cloud,

The virtue and the venture make satire of existence. 

I DON’T DO ANYTHING

I don’t do review

Because

The flower blooms

Contrary to

My wishes.

I don’t react,

As it is time

For its blooming

Neither have I chosen

To walk on its way,

Nor have I bothered

Of its existence,

I don’t do anything

Because

My wishes can’t destroy

The law of nature

The song of life. 

EVERY NIGHT BECOMES NIGHTMARE TO ME.

Every attempt in life has been destroyed by faulty decision,

Plans denied by nearest and dearest ones, as if all my attempts

Are not fit to the whims of their mindwear, those need to

Pass through their mentor section that also vagabonds do

Things of semi-notorious means of waving hands of acting

In more cramping and wired way to life performance they

Do act as their best way of thinking and impacting like

Fireflies splintering short life dancing around that fire,

Burning alongside, even though they has passed through

University education, yet they are galvanized to thinking  

Imperfect monitoring, making cracks in my whole plan,

And lastly I have to abandon it on ground that I am the fool.  

Indefinite way of other meaning of spending time with

Failed attempts like enzyme of rotten mangoes, acting

With abandoned technique, once, more than once

They travel like dignified creatures upon the earth,

Those are wonders and winners of their act, without

Having training from renowned thinkers, and denying them

Instead, taking no measure to refresh their knowledge

They travel with elated attitude upholding all acts

They perform as their victory over old fools who are

Nothing but breathless setting of confusion and illusion,

They very easily drop out old values like spilled water

That was once their life line, and they forget it deliberately.

Every night is nightmare to me; I have to swim over this ridiculous pond,

With the hope that green is there, bird is there, home is there.