IN DIARY

In diary folds you will find,
one letter each for you a day.
That would tell how my mind,
choked on feelings I desired to say.

Feelings painted on true canvas,
with brush of love and faith.
With colours and tears alas,
made so the painting sayeth.

Some castles are built in air,
while some on love so very pure.
The letters are fading, so unfair,
and a broken heart has no cure.

Prasenjit©1997-2012

LEARNING

Life is playful like a child,
wanting to go up just higher.
With free thoughts running wild,
and lively spirits put on fire.

Joyous like colourful valleys,
mind hovering like a butterfly.
While enjoying childish follies,
a matured mind thus comply.

Learning from the mistakes made,
with time made mistakes new.
Doing what elders did bade,
in future stood among unique few.

Prasenjit©1997-2012

REFLECTING BACK

Back in the seasons of youth,
I see and fondly remember.
The days of love did soothe,
embedded in my heart forever.

We picked up coloured pebbles,
and etched our names on it.
Threw it back in rubbles,
and doing so fondly repeat.

Rivers with colours of its own,
become one with nature's doing.
Now they to each other known,
destined to meet even before knowing.

Now embark on a journey new,
together with a renewed force.
Lucky are those so very few,
who define life to take its course.

Prasenjit©1997-2012

TRYING

An uphill road he took,
a tiring journey all along.
Spraining spine at every nook,
while merrily he sang a song.

Thus the lad upon his way,
knew goal was close to him.
He can rest, as he may,
but his heart did not seem.

The sun burning on his face,
and his soul was warmed up.
He reached his goal with grace,
and victory filled his life's cup.

Prasenjit©1997-2012

TIDES OF TIME

Through the tides of time,
as we have come to know.
That once a king in his prime,
will have an end to say so.

Great ideas and lofty thoughts,
and actions loftier them all.
Raging war of have and have nots,
in times they have stood tall.

Even today thru' the pages,
we come to know of days old.
Endless war those kings wages,
is etched in history we are told.

Prasenjit©1997-2012

FOR PEACE

Monks in the far off hills,
go in search of solace there.
One with nature, one feels,
bliss profound and joy so rare.

The lap of Mother Nature,
is wild, mild and yet free.
That teaches us like a preacher,
amidst beauty dangling from tree.

Out in serenity they chase,
the search of peace within.
Pondering thru' an unsolved maze,
a little better it cud' hav' been!.

Prasenjit©1997-2012

CHOOSE RIGHT

In the garden of Almighty,
are colours of different hue.
To smell and adore the beauty,
made with His power for you.

Colours that change with light,
like that of night and day.
Heavenly aroma seems so right,
that holds our beats in sway.

The white lilies grow in mud,
and red roses have thorns.
So pick beauty from the bud,
and leave aside rue and scorns.

Prasenjit©1997-2012

DARK TIMES

The dark times are here,
to put a test to us.
The grey clouds here and there,
to frighten and make a fuss.

Light that flashes and brightens,
and the spark hits the ground.
Struggle, glory, pride thus heightens,
which makes our world go round.

Prasenjit©1997-2012

THE GYPSY

A gypsy sings a ballad true,
out in the hot desert sands.
Of the past full of rue,
with joyous and happy bands.

He plucks the melancholy strings,
and the feelings flow on dunes.
Past is now alive as he sings,
touches the soul with his tunes.

His robe flutters like his mind,
as moon rises in the heavens high.
The song with his soul does bind,
as moon on the horizon passes by.

Prasenjit©1997-2012

IN RAIN

Those who cry in rain,
will know it for sure.
Eyes with tears of pain,
does not have a cure.

Those who with wet eyes,
in a mirror saw their face.
The sun will one day rise,
wash their tears with grace.

Prasenjit©1997-2012

JOURNEY

I think, I have been moving,
for centuries on these roads.
The road is not forgiving,
for sinners burdened with loads.

They who do not bend,
while on their goal's way.
Will surely get to the end,
though like a bough they sway.

In each step, I discard a sin,
made through follies of mind.
In memories, I have been,
visiting childhood as I unwind.

Prasenjit©1997-2012

CHILD LABOUR

She draws a pail of water,
her golden locks shine in sun.
No time for her kiddish loiter,
unlike others, she has none.

She does the chores daily,
while gets the usual scorn.
Though it is undeserving really,
as she works from night to morn.

She wipes and sweeps the floor,
with her innocent tender hands.
Bonded to work door to door,
as is the fate of miserable bands.

She neither laments nor wails,
as she does not play her pranks.
Till today fetches water in pails,
and remains neglected in all ranks.

Prasenjit©1997-2012

HONEY BEE

Oh! How I saw the bees,
dances and together sings.
Joy of being at ease,
is what happiness brings.

Those wings speak of joy,
and eyes the desire to share.
Caress like a prized toy,
and exist in harmony there.

Nectar of thousand flowers,
they together bring back home.
Team struggle they term as 'ours',
thus unending miles they roam.

Prasenjit©1997-2012

THE PAST

We often think of the past,
and lose the present so good.
Collecting betrayed memories - at last,
spoiling present in useless brood.

The past is a fountain dry,
of which no love springs forth.
The present is not to lament or cry,
which in future is of no worth.

The past like old stones,
crumble down to the earth.
Like the futile sobs and moans,
which die readily after birth.

Prasenjit©1997-2012

CHARACTER

Our dear ones does leave,
all in this one life alone.
We unveil what life give,
and remains of what we own.

Like the petals that unfurl,
one mask opens after another.
We do into ourselves curl,
and keep our souls closed rather.

Let new ideas water the soul,
and give birth to happy flowers.
That should be our life's goal,
so that we get what is ours.

Prasenjit©1997-2012

THE VENDOR BOY

Once in a village far away,
there lived a family of three.
The boy worked during day,
their house near a banyan tree.

He lived with his old mother,
and his sister very small.
As a kid lost his father,
his sister was not like rest of all.

The sun, rain, wind or moon,
didn’t at all stop the boy.
Happy days are nearby soon,
his dreamy eyes filled with joy.

Across roads, field and lake,
he gave news everywhere.
Even before people would wake,
found the news at doorstep there.

One day while he was late,
in hurry took paper from racks.
He unaware, crossed the rail gate,
and was running on the tracks.

Along the route he whistled,
from far, the train did the same.
While crossing, the rails rattled,
ending a life with unknown name.

Even today, the mother weeps,
whose girl is unlike rest of all.
In her heart, the hope she keeps,
till today with every tear fall...

Prasenjit©1997-2012

NAMELESS ECHOES

Thru' the passages so dark,
I kept on walking still.
One day to leave my mark,
on 'the time to come' - I feel.

When after many springs,
a youth laden with dreams.
In freshness of youth brings,
caskets of hope, with golden rims.

Maybe he would walk like me,
and in darkness trod the same.
Listen to echoes, that there be,
that I have left with no name.

Prasenjit©1997-2012

FINDING LOVE

Flowers that bloom today,
in future will not be here.
Bees that will hover in day,
hum and buzz beyond compare.

Coloured pollen on its legs,
roam from here to there.
As if nature for love begs,
asking for its soulful pair.


Prasenjit©1997-2012