Bidyarnab Das Poems

This page almost died.
Crossed out lines like scars.
Three false starts that went nowhere.
One angry scribble that tore the paper.
...

The north wall of our building
Never gets sun.
So it grew moss instead.
...

Brahmaputra wakes up slow,
Misty hills in softest glow,
Umananda floats alone,
Crowned in green, a quiet throne.
...

The river does not hurry to the sea,
It knows the sea will wait.
It bends around the stubborn rock,
It learns, but does not hate.
...