Race
Cementing all cracks in heart
an invisible rat runs
in flooded fields, reddish blue…
It shakes off fears from tears
becoming a flame
not to burn the world around
but to turn barren minds
into green fields for future races.
Visibly run innumerable rats in dry fields
to reach invisible goals
to teach indefinite colors of those races
which fold and unfold open secrets of life.
The invisible rat taps my shoulder
to be ready for trips to sight
belling my insight to peep into real facts
easily concealed in winged imaginations.
I become more practical
in noble vision, in solemn mission
than seasonal birds in flight,
and the rat provides me the light.
Bipul Chandra Kalita
I am not an island
While lying on the bed feverstruck,
I was all alone
Within the solitary precincts of my house.
Outside, the din and noise
Of tiny-tots playing cricket on the road
Came pouring into my ears
Regularly; and there was no dearth
Of voices from beneath my floor.
I heard frequently the familiar sound
Of motor vehicles
Whizzing past the curb in front of my house
I also tried music and books
To stave off the dreaded specter
Of boredom and loneliness.
I remembered my friends,
My pals and acquaintances;
But nobody came. Music was there
And books were there; Noise was there
And houses were there.
Encircled by the people,
Yet alone, my heart cried, and cried so often
Come to me O,my dear ones,
I am not an Island.
Rakesh Chandra
The ocean
The ocean with its deep composure
touches my mind.
For ages, it remained floating in its static stage; history changed,
New civilisations came and left,
But the ocean stood its place in
the test of time.
The strength of its silent presence
The depth of its dark water
In the sea of time; thus making it immortal.
The meeting of the ocean with the sky at the horizon; the incessant beating of the waves on the shores
The sandy coastline washed every second by the surf, the birds flying on the top of waves
The fishes riding with the waves,
The shells and oysters dropped on the beach
Demonstrates the majestic presence of
the ocean.
Throughout the ages like the great old grandpa, sitting beside in his cozy armchair,
Looking at us silently with soothing eyes.
Saikat Kumar Basu