Biswajit Basu Poems

The skies are as black, the winds wail a dirge,
The seas below roils in malevolent angry gray,
...

The forest is clothed in green and brown,
Sunrays slant through the leafy mantle above,
As I skip along uncharted paths,
I can see a profusion of colours I love.
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The red shawl frames her countenance soiled,
A beautiful young girl of Pashtun descent,
Her brows gently arched,
Guides you to the twin ovals below,
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In the beginning of Creation,
At the beginning of the very beginning,
Before there came space and time,
Floating free in a primeval void,
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A drop of rain on the window pane,
Rolls,
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It is not easy, and I don't know why,

To bid a retiring friend and office-colleague goodbye,
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I am a mediocre guy and I am not being sarcastic,
I have never done anything spectacular or even mildly drastic.
Of experience I have a lot and it is normal that I should,
I have full experience in failing, having failed every way I could.
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I wander alone dressed in resplendent light,
Through swirling clouds of evanescent haze,
Ghostly and suffused with myriad thoughts,
But they tauntingly elude my grasping gaze.
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Night set in and Kuala Lumpur airport is awash with light,
Milling passengers hurry rushing through the checks,
Some with phones glued to ears, some with eyes brimming tears,
Bidding farewell one last time; heart heavy with unknown fears.
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I went to the office today,
On my table with the papers there lay,
Some bread and some jam,
And half a leg of ham,
...