Parthaproteem Roy Poems

It was that cloudy yet a blissful day of July,
All my years were gone in lullaby.
The roads were cleaned and the houses looked new,
Looking out of the windows, Oh! I still remember that view.
...

In a winter afternoon, sitting in the last row,
A couple was enjoying their bus ride.
Adoring the pendants of different beliefs,
They seemed to have no qualm with that.
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So many wishes, so many rituals;
Hailing you by so many names,
Celebrating your different incarnations…
Praising your glories and your omnipotence
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Quenched my wilted soul, deep inside a dearth;
Counted million drops, in my cloudy showers;
My eyes used to marvel, beholding that silent firth;
Like a white swan, splashing and sailing with her steering oars;
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Little Ben wakes up with swollen eyes, still drooping in the dreamland,
With Donald, Mickey and Tom, running all around in his wonderland;
So cheerful were those moments, but alas! He has to go out now;
Bidding adieu to his friends, he presses hard his bed to plow.
...