PURPOSE

There is a hanging pot outside my grill -

had no plant but has its own thrill.

Roughened by the sun, water and dust,

it aged like a man, as it surely must.

A blue Robin out of nowhere came -

the empty pot was never again the same.

Leaves, twigs - its own home it did pave;

gladly collecting all that Nature gave.

The cradle of nature took time to sway -

'Baby's chirps' were heard from day to day.

The empty pot was now full of pure joy -

knowing that it was Nature's fine ploy.

Each of us, an unique purpose do serve -

as we make roads, smoothen every curve.

Prasenjit©2023

THE LAST ADVICE

"Always be like the flame, it's burning -

just like the wheel, it's always turning.

Doubts will creep as a flame will flicker -

rise above the common and never bicker.

Never be a dealer in pride and lies,

as it leads to downfall for the unwise.

Follow your heart and be it's master,

like an unique gem show your lustre.

Moments may come, you lose your cool -

let time, truth be your shield and tool.

Accept your fate as your only boss,

who may dictate your life's win or loss.

Friends like blooms may stay or be gone;

just cherish them and do not hold on.

As you read these lines, my darling son,

I would be gone, while you alone run.

Let my last advice be my eternal touch -

Remember, that I loved you very much."

Prasenjit©2023

AN IDEAL

A boat tied to a strong, fixed pole

can batter every turmoil or storm.

One in life must have a goal,

a disciplined life is the norm.

Like the poison ivy temptations come,

where a devil's life may seem better.

Be capable of removing sweet scum;

let our conscience not be a traitor.

Waves will lash against the shore,

water will recede beneath the boat.

So, stick to an ideal all the more;

a class apart, others may take note.

The troubles like tides - high and low

will lash and pound our life's boat.

'Follow truthful path', one must know -

legends are born, thus historians wrote.

Prasenjit©2023

POISON FRUIT

A nation stands on the brink of destiny,

had good choices to make - so many.

Instead they planted the poison seed,

hoping for good, to fulfill their need.

Poison branches spread towards the skies,

while deep in darkness, the roots of lies.

After five decades came - 'venom flower';

Its sweet toxin finally did overpower.

Pollens of mistrust flew in the breeze,

affecting the healthy bordering trees.

It bore the much awaited toxic fruit -

fed on tears, ignorance - making it moot.

Prasenjit©2023

MONSTER MONARCHS

They came to take what we did reap;

money, gems, freedom stacked in heap.

Pride like a gown the whites did wear -

the devil in hiding did good news bear.

We couldn't from them, our country save

but slowly took it to destiny's grave.

It's not that they had a greater might

but that divisive politics was the plight.

On weak mind and men kept up 'the chew';

on paper some broken lines they drew.

The weaklings were sure that all was well

and thus it was how a vast country fell.

Egoistic minds, sweet talk, treacherous eyes -

sadly our own acted as the whites' spies.

Thus, they slowly, surely brought all down

as they worked thru' town after town.

By snatching lands, covered the globe -

ego, pride displayed on bloodied robe.

Fake Highness pretended good intent,

cooking poison in the future parliament.

Looted, slaughtered from nature to child -

sent back to England the riches they piled.

What they thought was fame and glory 

was in darkness a bitter, shameless story.

The dark clouds parted and the time came -

our own flag flew over rebellion's flame.

Prasenjit©2023

EXODUS

Some empty handed in darkness fled

while the ones stayed, to death did bled.

Child 'n' man rotted in blood soaked field

while the women were forced to yield.

The call to threat came from the mics

while bodies dangled from poles 'n' spikes.

A once sweet brotherhood now forsaken -

lives, trust 'n' modesty forcefully taken.

In darkness the hideous monsters creep -

cursed eyes wide open in deep sleep.

The 'shriek', the 'horror' and the 'cry' -

none heard, none saw, they didn't even try.

Even the cloud came down in tears

but couldn't erase the trauma or fears.

It was evident and needless to say -

humanity fell off the cliff that day.

People were killed by their names -

left to rot, sans giving to the flames.

The filth from both sides of the border,

shook dirty hands and gave the order.

Heaven submitted to the fires of Hell -

Lucifer sat on the throne, one could tell. 

They forgot, that the wheel was in spin -

bodies lived no more but curses have been. 

Spineless leaders; the rioters went wild

as the country was ruled by devil's child.

After three decades, tho' it stopped burning -

there's hope, as the wheels are finally turning.

Prasenjit©2023

NATURE AND MAN

I stand on the riverbank and watch

the radiant setting sun's magical touch.

A day that outshone all in bright

to welcome darkness through the night.

Grey to blue those clouds and skies -

fulfills the mind through gifted eyes.

The cool drops from heaven: A surprise

that kisses the warm earth in its guise.

The roaring thunder with clap and beat -

it is unruly Nature's splendid feat.

The lightning blazes like clanking chain -

thus showing off like a lion's Mane.

The wind blows harder to be a breeze,

lashing over ripples and thru' the trees.

Flowers of vines like garlanded wreathes -

silently spreads fragrance as it breathes.

As I see, I feel and I am inclined

to thus question Me and my mind.

'Each creation of nature is an art

and each thus plays its own part.'

"Then why is it that men do jeer,

its own kith and kin or even peer?"

I know not what is in the mind of man -

surely capable for more, they can.

Words like spears dart through air,

not thinking how the man would fare.

Surely this was not in the creator's plan -

A human cud' be greater than just a man.

Prasenjit©2023

BACK STABBED

THE KARGIL WAR WAS FOUGHT ENTIRELY FROM

OUR SIDE OF THE LAND. WE NEVER CROSSED LOC

TO WIN THE WAR IN A SHORTER TIME.

A timid, blue gurgling, shimmering river

from atop the mountains it gaily came.

Mysterious and silent the snow-clad giver

was witness to deceit, loyalty and fame.

It glowed like sapphire with crystals' hue -

far above the tricolour proudly hovered.

The peaks were taken by a deceitful few;

their dark intentions were all that mattered.

The sons of the soil went up the posts

but came back home hideously martyred.

On higher terrain were those devil's hosts,

but our sons on moral grounds chartered.

We lost too many but at last won the peak

while some played god in veiled shroud.

The brave moved up, situation was bleak - 

they laid their lives and made us proud.

Yes, blood was spilt in this brute fight

and air, water, soil were the true witness.

Victory came to steely resolve and pure might

while our sons from true path never digress.

Prasenjit©2023

LOST IN TIME

I remember those days of fairy tales

when dragons came out of magic wells.

The fairies with one wave of the wand

would turn the barren into a fertile land.

Three-eyed demons and bony witches

preyed upon kids in rags or riches.

Twists and turns with plots in between

a flying carpet would rescue the queen. 

We knew frogs turned into princess

which never seemed to be in excess!

Out of the mirror breaking the ill-spell:

Done by prince charming one could tell.

Fiery dragons would thus wrath bring,

only to be tamed by the destined king.

How a glass shoe could Cinderella fit?

Enthralling minds, a delightful treat.

Dwarves, elves, phoenix and mermaid

ruled a lost world that nature made.

Where are they - centaur and unicorn?

Roamed the lands where dreams were born.

Even today now we have namesake wars;

deceit, loyalty, bruteness breaking all bars.

All characters are the same, yet no fun -

Well, that world had magic 'n' ours none!

Prasenjit©2023

NOT GROWING OLD

India mourns it's martyrs from land to sea -

they have fallen in flesh but in spirit free.

They made their mark in every spheres -

their glory always flow through our tears.

The bugles are sounded, it's a music still -

how pride swells inside, the families feel.

They died young; that's how they stay -

while commoners will grow old, they may.

True to the heart, their eyes had a glow -

they fell with bullets in, faces to their foe. 

They will stay young and not grow old,

while we would as the seasons unfold.

They are past praise, age or any condemn,

while with sun and moon we remember them.

Some get their soil while others outside home -

our homage and respect the martyr's dome.

They are deep within us, a volcanic spring -

which gushes joys and tears as they bring.

We can't see them as they are out of sight -

like the sun can't see stars in the night.

We know this, since by nature it is a must,

that with time we will return to dust.

Those young stars will look upon our plain -

as they sail eternity, so they shall remain.

Prasenjit©2023