THE CITY OF WAR

The city is full of false choreographers.
 The kerosene lamps hunger
and the choppers.
War for existence everywhere.
Nobody bothers about the bloodbath.
You cannot fight with the pen.
Don’t you know?
Pen is painful and the bullet is painless.
Let’s fight with each other and die forever.
Let’s end the war lets end the war.
 

YOUR ETERNAL SMILE

From Aswanadi to Yamuna
from Yamuna to Ganga.
I flow with the wave.
Flow with the darkness
Flow with Your smile.
I pushed your Nandighosh
Only upto seven feet.
This is a smile for you but
This is my pride.
Every moment of my life is
Your smile.
Even my death also.
Although I don’t like your smile
Still I wish your smile to be eternal
Even after the end of this universe.
 

SAILOR OF THE RIVER
 
A poor sailor and his
aged wooden boat.
Cyclone in the mid-river.
Scaring and Screaming   passengers.
Guess the sailor smiling or howling.
Smiling since he saves
his wooden boat.
Not for the passengers.
 

WHERE IS THE TERRORIST?
 
Riots everywhere.
Inside my body,
inside my soul.
Do you think a terrorist?
Staying there?
May be “undiscovered”.
Once I am in god’s campaign
Frightened.
Terrorists are here, there, everywhere.
Do you know?
How to distinguish them?
 
 
THAT IS ME
 
House a glass...
with pieces of dreams
sand of hopes with lots of tears.
Back ..back..back..
at  the end of the row
hoping to be ......
guess! Who is that?
That is me, that is me.

 
A DYING RIVER
 
Some terrorists cut a river
into pieces and
auctioned the rain.
Some people horrified
hue and cry…
Drying and dyeing…
Save the river save the river.
Another group searching the terrorists since.
A man never waits, Cut their veins
filled the river with his blood.
Still horrifying
But now the river is not drying.
The river is not dyeing.
 
 
LOST LOVER
 
Look …
The sky meets the earth
Where…
My village is there.
A small cottage,
bamboos and mud the walls are.
A wooden box in a corner,
some books inside
Of my child hood,
Grandfather’s Bhagvat Gita
and some blank paper.
Someone whispers me a dark night,
Someone a scarecrow,
Someone a jailbird.
But still I feel myself a lost lover
I stay there where …
The sky and the earth meet together.

 
YOUR SCARECROW
 
A series of painful mid-noon
passed away…
still I stand there below the open sky.
Protect your paddy crops and
many of your lost lands.
Laughing like before
As you wish
Inside a black hemisphere.
heading with a painted clay pot,
standing there,
year after year,
never tired never died
you can use or
you can throw
because I am your scarecrow
never tired never died.
standing here,
year after year.