Neela Nath Das

Root - Poem by Neela Nath Das

Had he lived here? My grandpa?
Mother told a colossal building!
But the faded, wornout door no color.
Was that my father’s own house?
Hello, are you there? Mom knew the name.
Caretaker Hari? Yes.
None came, only the wailing wind shivered
The leaves leaves of the Mango tree, Rubber and.
The roots rolling down from an old Banyan tree
Telling of the saga ancestors'.....
I have got to know their language.

Topic(s) of this poem: roots

Comments about Root by Neela Nath Das

  • Kumarmani Mahakul (10/28/2015 2:37:00 AM)

    Deeply envisioned and nicely depicted. An intensive poem I like most. Thanks for sharing. (Report) Reply

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  • Life Sparkles (10/26/2015 9:07:00 PM)

    perhaps Earth has been aware of us fully, always
    all of the history here

    is there no history out there]?
    and freedom in that]?

    I've spoken their languages
    and only hear of pain and sorrow
    so let's change today for a brighter tomorrow!
    (Report) Reply

    Neela Nath Das (10/27/2015 12:12:00 PM)

    Yes, positive thinking helps us think for better tomorrow.Let's hope for the best.Thank you.Mr.Agape.

  • Jasbir Chatterjee (10/26/2015 5:39:00 AM)

    very good poem; you are lucky to have a big house where you can explore... (Report) Reply

  • Sanjukta Nag (10/26/2015 2:08:00 AM)

    The feeling of a descendant very touchingly expresssed through this poem and it is realistic indeed as we all look for our roots. Thank you! (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, October 26, 2015

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