Hurry, hurry
Give some space to me
Echoed frequently,
Quite mysterious , veiled
Under red-handkerchief
Perhaps a face
Hidden, quite obscure
Got no time to think
Just stepped in that night at train;
A lashing boredom, previously experienced
With a state of mind that still searching
For the ultimate;
City lights were becoming blurred
More it led to the village
Nothing so special but mundane feelings
May be the journey made it so
Absurd shapes and violent barking dogs were
Creating hindrance between sound of train
And me, just stepped in that night at train;
Had I not slept last night?
Why am I becoming so crazy about my sensations?
It’s normal that cool air
Must give me a pleasurable effect
I looked through the window
And found a picture
Made out of crayons of three years old child
I told myself
Am I a foreseer? Or just making myself so:
It made me terribly weak
Because there I found nobody to judge my thought
That night at train
That night never left me alone
There was no ending
No limits, just continuation.
Serene, the word might sound plain
In empty mind I stood in front of a Dargah
Floor painted as chessboard
Defining an abode of divinity
Souls enacted upon those colorful artistry
A gate coarsely hanged and an unnamed pasture seen
Wild grass flowers sleeping in peace
Only one god, only one was their kin
Old baba was no more and had taken a lease
His world might somewhere else
As we could not flee
Hour long waited for him
Standing on a queue
Our apparent dressing got nothing to find thee
Huge arch might have set our souls free
A pond full of water streaming years long
Five times prayer and a true song.
Sourav Sarkar was born in Cooch Behar district , West Bengal, INDIA. Post graduate from St. Joseph’s college Darjeeling in English Literature . Fore mostly he is a poet. His poems so far published in the countries like England, India, Bangladesh, America, Canada, Trinidad etc.