Brownian Destiny

​She beholds 'em in awe,

the falling leaves of spring,

the Palash bloom who,

in jest,

tapped her left shoulder;

made her turn right,

towards the right hues of life,

bright red, dreamy yellow.​​

We too,

I sigh and smile,

live our Brownian lives,

swaying with the mystical laws...

Of physics, blessings and fate,

our dreams and destiny.

Pic: Sreetama Bagchi

The Hatchback of Notre-Dame

As I reached
the climax,
as the cadence of
my sonnet picked up
for the final yards,
I could see the

insignificant cabinet ministers, 
honking and coercing
their hatchbacks to work; 
in sorry solitude, 
moored in sombre delusions, 
secluded from the love
only an early morning
spring sun shares.

Hunched over a

wheel of less fortune,

towards Notre-Dame,

from Tuglak's ruins,

towards false promises...

The forgotten

ugly bastards

of a Millenium City.

Pic: s13.zetaboards.com

The Dying Winter

The clearing fog...

The receding moisture

from your eyes;

the sun, occasional,

playing a heavenly hide n seek.

The small drops of passion...

Dew in the morn,

sweat at high noon,

whiskey at twilight,

and sleepless at midnight.