Kolkata, India

Black Story

At midnight every moment I wait, I find black is where

there is freedom and promise.

When you see your reflection, what it says-

I dream I can breathe now.

Black is where the brush paints scars and wounds,

heal our trauma, tenderness to come with me.

The only colour my skin accept is black.

it is a release, bursting of rain clouds after being held in,

Maybe somewhere we decorate the starless sky

leafless forest and mountains with black paint.

Black is my face, my soft humanness,

claim space from you, wait for a spark to burn it all new.

Black now fills me with hope, showcases love and light

Weave a tender, ethereal story.

Each Absence

Each absence has an invisible mask

Thus, I enter and you never notice my footsteps.

afternoon invites the heavy breath.

Bareness is brimming with synonyms,

twilight clouds fill the pitchers with fire water.

Let me play with my whistle and a sunbird

awaits on the window grill to join.

Sentences are losing grammar now, words small letters,

love dies slowly on the blank page.

A laugh embraces husky voice, a kiss darkness

I can still hear the stream of memoirs.

Shadows take the silence along with them.

Earthlight

Everything is quiet, forsaken, desolate,

in the middle of night, stars are filling solitude.

I come to you, Are you my amorous past?

weightless shadows sink in the lullabies of eyelids.

The moon sketches the old monument in silence,

it’s you, looking for the paint and canvas.

I can’t even smell, the images sink and fade,

the night birds look beneath every colour.

You still want to live in the torrents of memories,

formless clouds remove the longest thorns.

Let me gather your letters, alphabets, syllables,

until you open your eyes into the light.

I am trying to redraw your mystery, your contours,

each grain, each drop leads us out of earthlight.