A few weeks back I spent amazing times in New Delhi with family. It was the annual festival, the Durga Puja, of the Bengalis, worldwide. It is the time of the year I ensure I’m not away from my wife and son. As I came back to my office in Calcutta, I wrote a short poem that was never finished. Here is a line from the verse: “Alphabets gravitate to the boundless.” In all my poems I aim at reaching out to the infinitude of continuance. That I’m writing poetry for past few years allows me revisit the patience I invested in securing a degree in dentistry. Evidently, poetry was not on my wish list. But then, karma casts its spell always. The following poem can help one grasp my point better.

 

 

Screenplay

 

Death suggests how sterile

it is to hold a grudge.

Life has ways to

recommence the soliloquy.