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(17/07/1955 / Midnapur)

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Stream of wisdom flew with time,
Calm and quiet, pure, unstinted,
With sweetness infinite,
Which I never cared for,
Nor I drank a cup of it even.

In me, there was a brute,
During the prime time,
When energy was brimming,
And spirit undying.
Saplings of venom plants
Grew in my field,
That troubled and panicked
The people of my world.
They cried, I laughed at;
They groaned and I clapped.
The savagery, the brutality
What I only loved for.

The wise said,
'You are a hell personified.
I argued,
'I am the gale epitomised'.

In solitude, still I see
The stream of wisdom
Is flowing with time,
Calm and quiet,
with sweetness infinite,
In the form of the moon-lit night,
The radiance of the dawn,
The stillness of the woods,
The rose fragrant breeze;
Like the majestic Himalayas
With ego-less elegance and
The fathomless ocean of magnificence.

Hungering and thirsting,
I am eager to have a little of them,
But the energy is dipping
And the spirit dying.

Now, with a long sigh of remorse,
Often I say,
'This life has gone astray'.

Submitted: Friday, August 19, 2011
Edited: Saturday, August 20, 2011

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