Songs of Silence – A journey to love
By Suhina Biswasmajumdar
Suhina Biswasmajumdar is a writer from Kolkata, Bengal. A life-long devotee of Swami Vivekananda, Suhina is against any discrimination. Two significant life-forces propel her – ‘love’ and ‘writing’. Suhina’s book ‘Tumi’ (you) and Songs of Silence (A Journey to Love), are collections of her poetic thoughts.
To A Lover —
Hey!
Open your mind
And listen to your voice
Listen to your own
The inner one
At least, for once
Then move
And react vehemently
Before this City Of Death crushes you,
Kiss your Whip & Love
Yes … this time…
Oh … now the rest is yours….
Monsoon
Again monsoon comes
Thirsty earth is waiting for her,
The summer gives a warm welcome
With his departing stormy clarinets,
Look, ecstasy giggles in her dark eyes
She comes to keep her promise
Monsoon smiles, life begins to sprout
Energy flows greenery shows how happy
The fields are now
I’m waiting for her in my lonely room
I want to be with her alone
Monsoon offers her dream to me
With the fragrance of Kadam
Don’t you want to enjoy her vibrant colors?
Don’t you wish to be happy?
We get a chance to make more fun
Let’s enjoy her beauty
She gives a touch
That makes canvas forgets its strife
The earth’s waiting for her love, I remember
Monsoon appears, once more in our life.
The Mother
Eternal truth lies in her eyes
Mother,
The infinity that I search for
And wonder
From year after year
Decades are changed into era
Every single particle of the existence
May change but not her laughter
In her smile
I find the universe
Her touch makes me the emperor
She would kiss my forehead and
I’ll be the conqueror of the
Whole world
Mother,
The creator of this mystic creation
Mother, where poor wretched woman
Becomes the face of incarnation…
Love whispers
And they bloom to kiss
The eyes of heaven — the blue is
Flooded
With their fiery passion and smiles
A gleam of light emerges from the darkest corridor of life
Only those hearts know how to believe How to keep faith and their promises…
It’s love they feel
It’s love that immune them
It’s love they make you feel
Let’s celebrate the victory
Let’s feel the ecstasy,
And love,
Love for the rest of your life
Without any reason without any restrictions
Without knowing what love is or how to love!
The Migrants
Nothing has been changed today
Nothing will be changed tomorrow
They are the pawns
No one will change their fate and sorrow
The river still flows beside the monument
That of love or lustrous
Let them talk
Who’re crazy to enjoy the beauty
Of the marbles and walk
But who knows their cry … that of marbles and men
How their toil and sweat could transform the grave —
A piece of art!
Yes ….an epitome of love and frozen tears!
No one knew their name .No one praised them.
No one even got chance to recall those
Youths who had spent their spring and autumn
With the murmurs of the stone
Those unsung artisans whisper
If you want, you can feel their presence and
Their immortal song
They only change their place, their clothes
And time
Still you find them
On the high way they’re travelling
They’ve to cross the borders of time, place, social strata
They’re in the freeze frame of the timeless canvas
Of the society —
They build …They make….They disappear from the pages of the history
But yet they return
Only the ego of the people and power
Had been buried forever under the white marble,
People come to see
The beauty of the tired monument and forget
The engraved emptiness the poor Emperor bears
For the last fifty decades,
And the story of the rest who’re the pawns
None will change their fortune they borrow
Nothing will be changed in their tomorrow….
Worship
Perhaps you aren’t good
Perhaps you aren’t the one
Who you want to be!
It’s my magic
That you look like that god
Others want to see.
Please
Make some more emojis
That I can open my mind
Every single emotion
That could whisper the
Blank verse the man recites in
The deaf ears of the dumb station
Only
The lust remains as a last remnant of life
Those men
Who knows how to use brush and blood?
See no more,
They leave no warison,
The man,
Once who plays his strings and sings
And the sky with the cry of the broken mountains
Bursts into tears,
And the river, the meadows, the dark chocolate-crazies follow him —
No more raises his chocked voice
He too becomes the devotee of Faustus!
And
Me, the poor wretched melancholic frozen soul,
Am
But waiting for r my last ride…
Like
That of our civilization
Before that ―
Before everything would be vaporized
Or mummified
Rehearse to be calm and quiet
Time flows like frozen shots or fossils ―
The man
The train
The morose station
Still
Exchange their feelings
But
None is there
No one has that knowledge
To
Decode
Their songs of silence!
Laughter
Have you ever seen the Parijat
That blooms in the Eden
The heavenly joy that brings
Where pleasure is forbidden
I’ve seen those flowers
Suddenly bloom in thousands
When he asks the gypsy girl
To take a snap but she just swirls
She bursts into laughter
Like the thunder,
Her eyes are dark, her skirt is pale
Though her smile snatches you from the hell!
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