A Mother’s Lament


I thought I was

your rural landscape, your sanctuary-

to my dried up branches,

you’ve tied glassy words

with an evil of their own-

the world hears

sweet tinkling and jingling

of their sound-

yet deep inside

their torque twists my sinews-

my failed leaves sigh-

I am so burnt up-

can I be your home again-

like this burnt up earth

I am forever athirst





Posted for Fireblossom’s picture prompt @ Sunday Muse #91


Also shared with earthweal open link weekend #3

Bring Them back


When high-rises loom

like apparitions

house sparrows become

shadows and dream-



my ears thirst for their chirps

eyes for a glimpse

of this passerine bird-



twigs and straw are my words-

this poem an empty nest-



is this how the sparrows end-


[Factors leading to the decline of house sparrows are; rapidly changing cities that are inhabitable for the bird species, modern infrastructure that does not account for space for the sparrow to nest, and the sharp rise in pollution levels, caused by microwave towers and pesticides. In my hometown, Balurghat, West Bengal a house sparrow is a rarity. I can’t remember when I last saw one]



Posted for earthweal weekly challenge: Ghosts


This year begins with the ceremony

of darkness-

I can’t sleep. I come out

only to find you rising-

am I able to touch the end of the world then

is it that close-

for I see your eyes leaning on us-

a volcano erupts in your eye-

in one eye-

turning the sky red

while the other one is all ice-

so it is your night

and we are all lemmings?


whatever you are

be my poem

and life-





Posted for Sunday Muse #90



This maternal river doesn’t go

her own way now-

she’s come at my door step-

we leave

letting our swaths of dream

spanning generations,

to be lapped up

by her once benign tongue-

I hear her sighs

broken into gloomy words :

I am looking for my way lost eons ago

when your barrage came about-




we both


one another’s kill-


[Malda district in West Bengal has lost huge swathes of land to the fury of the river Ganges, and thousands of families have been deprived of their homes and livelihoods.]


Posted for earthweal open link weekend #2

Tied Up


“Take Me Up”  by Lauren Withrow


I am tied up to the thoughts

lifting me up towards a dreamscape-

yet I wish to break free

to return-

I cannot look up

for my home

is being consumed

by water





Posted for Sunday Muse #89

Kindness is a green word


Kindness is a green word

of strong roots, serene branches

and massive shades

for your weary soul-

to grow for you a Maldhari* heart

to befriend lions of Gir-

you walk away restored,

pure and buoyant-

even if love becomes an obsolete word

and all mouths talk in tongues of blood-



*The Maldhari community is a tribe of herdsmen in the border state of  Gujarat, India living in harmony with the wild Asiatic lions of the Gir forest. They have been instrumental in increasing the number of this big cat, almost wiped out in the 19th Century.

Those who are interested can check out this link :





Posting for the first open link@ earthweal

Year’s End


This year seems to be happy

as it nears its end-

I heard its golden oriole voice-

saw its marigold-dance

in a crazy North wind-

it still retains the carnival spirit-

on stilts

it walked past me the other day

looking at the pale sun feather-

throwing me a misty smile

it whispered of its return

in a new look-

I now treasure its breath

of fresh oranges-



Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Year’s End @ Poets United



I am my winter poem

without the alphabet of

snow men or snow whites-

all my letters

are an oxbow lake hallucinating

whistling teal, jacana* and egret words-

a warm winter stifles me –

         yet my phrases freeze-

         for your** sunny words

         have forever ceased-


*jacana is a winter bird of Bengal

**‘your’ refers to one of my favorite Bengali writers Dr. Nabanita Dev Sen who breathed her last this 7 Nov.


Nabanita Dev Sen



Posted for Pantry of Poetry and Prose @ Poets United

The Moment


School kids running in elementary school hallway, front view



The moment the bell goes

there’s a spurt of joy

gushing up like a geyser

from the school house

that has just opened its cage door

letting out

thousand little birds

feathered in red and white

to take flight-

their chirps and twitters float in the air,

the banyan leaves, the Atrayee* water

hear their freedom song-

while I have captured them again

in my words-



*Atrayee is a river that flows through Balurghat where I stay


Posted formy prompt ~ A / The Moment@ Poets United Midweek Motif