A slice of smile
Can cast thousand lights
Over the shadow
Of snow-clad pain,
...
Lord Krishna had told long time ago-
Grave words like the sea not hollow:
'In the time of industrial & modern age,
People would be the birds in a golden cage:
...
No pen has sufficient ink
To dig into the mother;
No writer has enough brains
To attribute upon her the beauty
...
The stars of my life never
glitter like before,
today life defines me a dry flower
without dew of love,
...
You'd embroidered the Inferno
sewn with the thread
of supple beauty,
endowed Ganguria
...
Life is as tear drops of the morning.
When the sun throws its warm kiss
Away to the drop,
It becomes an invisible entity.
...
A dry leave reminds us the past
glory of the tree,
in the same way a lonely heart
tells us the days of love full
...
On a spring morning the sweet
smell of newly clad blossoms
coated with dew and honey,
I saw a maiden tugging
...
That night the moon was not distinct.
I had to stop my cart in the forest,
not enough light to run.
It was then midnight.
...