So many years, that it happens for sixty eight years,

Every day, the sun fills the earth with light,

Never knowing it is its surprise, as I see it in my life,

One eye ball, filling the otherness on the earth,

Intended even more time since birth of the sun,

I realize it, re-invented it, like others through time,



The earth,



The earth,




I live in a strange place,


The earth,

The cycle,



The day was 18th September, 2018, Tuesday,

The truth comes just before I am moving in train,

To reach Hyderabad, with purposed, re-purposed,

A divine, an orbit to know the knowledge, as I move,


Language, words, universe move in accordance with time.






Last day, he did not find any flower,

Green sprouted leaves from a sal tree

Nor did he get flowers and newly

Grown leaves from a mahua tree,

To worship in his house for wellness,

Happiness to his wife and family.

Picture of his living place has changed.

He couldn’t let away the day of

Chaitra Sankranti captive of

Non availability of those items,

And, instead he arranged for other

Ways to collect puja items,

What he could purchase from Big Bazar

And collected flowers available in his garden.


This day he has to arrange fish

And mangoes for launch to

Observe Bengali New Year Day

On 15.08.2018, Poila Baisakh,

i.e. 1st Baisakh, in the year, 1425.

This day, he will take holy bath

And pray for all to be nice,

And be happy through the year,

He will pray to God to keep

All people to live in peace,

No one needs to move for earning

And dwelling by hardship,

Caused by uneven pathway

Of allocations or otherwise, and

Even if such happens by the way,

He will pray to God for arranging

A peaceful way to draw a curtain

To close such ill apartments.

He thinks every land is forefathers’

Equally relevant to live peacefully,

And there exists one and only one

Supreme power, the only source

From where everyone comes upon this earth.



Coming out from city life, being

Torn with toss-and-gain-grip,

Everyone haunted with life real,

With war and fear in mind, we stood

On the beach, with hope to have

Fresh respiration, no phone calls,

No daily pasting of photos, no data,

We found the sun, as if it is born to act,

And it makes us think of self and to

Realize we’re not thrown into dissolution,

And it ferries life cycle, but we are living

Aided by desire, ready to work for own share,

For benefit, with power and scroll of toasted words,

We are living for gaining or acquiring

Elephantine chambers with home

Where knowledge has no speech

And people gather for getting chance of

Favors of power and attaining decrees

On material acquisitions, and perquisites.

We’re mesmerized with allusion.

Who is the leader of our mind?

Can we leave this battle zone?

Standing on this space and time,

We want change in belief, in

The reflected sunrays on the waters,

Those hold true qualities of living,

It is thought that water is free

With an identity for soothing of all burns,

And to honor our relieved mind from pains

Of gain, relieved from bargaining of wealth,

We learn first charity to be given to people,

And fathom worth and grace of life, and

The sun reflects its nobility with no weapons

In the vastness of the sea, profoundly.






Coming out from country life,

Tanned with toss and gain grip

Bringing war and fear on the beach

We find the sun, on morning wall,

Everyone remembers dissolution,

That ferries life cycle, as if

We are living in jungle, with home

That has no power to reflect truth,

We’re mesmerized with allusion,

And we want change in belief, in

The reflected sunrays on the waters,

That holds true quality of living,

It is thought that water is free

With an identity for soothing all burns

That we acquire while we travel in country,

And the sea imprints its vastness, profoundly.




“Everything is lie.” was the soft voice in response.


Loss of birth or loss of funeral is not decoded.


What to work and what to eat are pre-loaded

By the congregation where God like representatives spread

Sermons with allocation of food and drink,

Either it may be curse rice, alcohol or pure water.


Every time no one knows the brand name behind,

Every time no one knows what origin it is losing.


Something there is hidden, outside preview of camera.

And as an accident occurs, representatives in congregation

Announces in publicity, “God forgive them.”


Everyone gets weird. Either collapse of construction,

Frost bite or snake bite is placed like volatile syndrome in air

With least resistance to be offered, filled with whispers,

“Everything is lie. Mistake is also a lie. Stress is for us.

We are to be sober at every loss. Obeying is our words.”




Winter dawn, fog and mystery,

Somewhere it is busy time and

Somewhere it is sleeping time,

I am standing awake,

On the side of a bypass road.

Nearby to a village, where

Dwellers are in deep slumber,

Delicately balanced and unperturbed.

They need no necessity to apologize

To God or to the state, because

Beautiful night is silent on sound sleep,

Uninterrupted flood lights and heavily loaded

Trucks are on the road, always running

To carry essential commodities, usually moving

Wheels and engine make echo inside.

I, mesmerized, taking me as myth, and it is me.

I was involved in loving one youngster, and

I tried to help him as care taker for the time being,

So as to looking into matters, in absence of parents,

Of supervising his playing capability,

And I have to stay in the village, and

At dawn, I woke up and stood alone there.

Some learning would come, and I have evaluated

The moment of my performance,

As I have submitted a paper of assessment

On the performance of the little one,

To his parents who would approve or disapprove

Quality of my supervising retrospect.

And I have learnt everything of parents’ judgement,

It was that I did not know the technique,

As I loved my own benefit for money, and

I spoilt their ambition, leaping into hypothesis,

That did not work in practice and

I spent time to live with their hope

For attaining of superiority,

I have made only torque of my desires,

Not benefitting to their little one,

As they did not take me as a party of favorite,

Irony of fate,

And I have to leave this place and to walk away

For another destination for good,

Losing my honor for investing time with them,

Morning is coming and I have to forget

The moment of smiling of that little one

Who once broke silence with his bursting laughter.