Door Poem by BASAB CHAUDHURI
Door
A new door opens everyday,
Overlooked - no one peeps in.
None asks: Is there someone inside?
The door stands in neglect.
Thus we live life - more of a habit,
there is hardly any exploration.
Doors indeed open --
but habit is inhibiting.
Then a sudden breeze
and the doors close,
there were many gardens inside
marigold, butterflies and rose.
Bang, bang on the door
sleep, sleep on the floor.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/20/2026 11:54:59 AM # 1.0.0
