Tuesday, 30 July 2013


What is mystery in the sky?

The sunlight itself? Or a small bird?

Your eyes caught into aerial visits in surprise,

Rainy clouds do hide shining and shifting

Of spreading sunlight, as little it is seen,

As little you are in search and invent

Time of the earth’s flowering season.

You are child to know the speech

That God has created for your nascent eyes,

Life is breathing, yet your childhood thinking

Does hold curiosity, first to know, then to follow

And find all things with clarity, then as a man,

You will dwell in a new world, appearing splendid.  

Monday, 29 July 2013


You are travelling inside a moving train,

And it stops at a place,

You will see it is a station that offers you

To step out of train compartment and go destination,

The valid trip of going your home or working place,

Travelling through passage sphere with patience,

Your infant mind and curious eyes are overall delighted

On finding new things,

That you are now in great thinking that is opened

On your journey, and you are perhaps preparing to understand

Life’s twining and singing.


Sunday, 28 July 2013


Simpy is a young lady
Awarded Honors degree  in English Literature,
She is wise and beautiful
She is preparing for building her career
Esteemed all over within her heart,
How she will see her future,
To get a Masters Degree,
And she has a good affinity in cooking food,
For making palatable Bengali Dishes,
It is her past time.

One rainy day, I was with her family,
As if I was in a tin shed home in a rainy season
Forty years back, standing alone on the corridor,
One young girl that time suddenly arrived and
Took me inside her home and give temporary shelter
To protect me not being wet in rain, and when rain stopped
 I returned home with a great memory on young age romance.
This day Simpy, a daughter of my friend, makes
Dishes of Hilsha fish curry with her cooking experience,
She blushed red when I praise her for taking cooking adventure,

She is curious to make everything  right in order,
She is always in curiosity to know the unknown,
From the great world, it is still full of new things,
And her mother is feeling proud to hear praise of her daughter,
She feels mirror image of her younger age of time
When she was like her daughter thirty five years back.
The world is retrieval of fanciful happening repeating every time.


This poem is for Miss Riya Bhattacharya                                                                                        

It is raining, my presence and my thinking
Move along evening singing, with rainfall sounds
That make echo and come in room through window,
A clear falling sound of rainwater from rooftop outlet,
Making ground resonate, filled with water clogged,
My friend, being nostalgic, turns to gossip of our old days.

Then his daughter, a research scholar in Economics
Comes forward to have hot tea and hot snacks,
And wearing a rain-coat, goes out like an angel to the market,
Her footsteps sound in rhythm of rain fall, with resonance,
As she is digging clogged water to place feet firmly on ground.

After a while she returns with some food stuff firmly closed,
She is covered  in rain bubbles, looking beautiful in face,
She buys some puffed rice, hot and crispy potato chops,
And she serves lovingly hot tea and hot snacks in this rainy evening,
This makes us stay in gossips and the young lady hears us patiently,

She makes this rainy evening beautiful and charming episode to remember.

Saturday, 27 July 2013


Leaning on a train-window the baby looks on river flowing,

Its water is always muddy in raining tease,


Small waves, muddy water flowing, sunlight is not in full color,

The baby losses curiosity to see reflective derives.


His eyes pick curiosity, looking for sunlight,

It is baby’s bad luck not to find magic,


Curiosity travels into his eyes to see the New River Bridge,

Balancing is a rose test of accuracy.


The baby looks forward how long river’s wide stream can

Hold silence, when flood situation fills the air.


As the river flows with its body towards seashore to mingle with

Great course of oceanic mystery,


The baby does not think it, yet he looks forward for the wave

That the river does create its speed inside.


The baby is in balancing mood not finding the spheres of life,

Neither he examines it nor does he understand it.


His gesture and attitude is innocent, spiritual, cradled realm,

It is his baby insights; it is his looking for throne inside.



Innocent eyes

Behind the sunglass, looking

Through a train-window,

As mirror reflecting life,

Childhood eyes of dream delight.




Tuesday, 23 July 2013


You have a beautiful gesture,
like little Krisha,
The man-boy
wandering the world,
Where childhood,
beauty, mind,
keep us cheering up
Moving round
your growing eternal light,
You are beloved man-child,
Singing like song
of Kshina’s flute