Prateep Sengupta

Contagious disbelief spreads its wings
Faith is crucified by the viper strings
Soul loiters as the wealth heaps
Mind builds a hundred skyscrapers
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Those days are now long past
In oblivion those hours lie
When in my garden thousands flower bloomed
When I presented to her bunches of sweet flowers;
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Forty families in each apartment
Seven apartments in the complex,
The houses were mine and yours
The promoter had poetically
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If somebody should love a curtain
We can do nothing but to sustain
You must keep your thoughts confined
Or you do not prove of civilized kind.
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My journey towards you
Started since the day
I was born.
The paths were turbulent
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From the Palaeolithic times
Millions of years have lapsed
They fondly gathered those boulders
Carried them on their shoulders
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Now that you have bade good bye
To sixty-seven summers,
And me to fifty nine
Autumn and spring all alike,
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More it was attempted
Distinct it became more
To further new heights did it soar
Its mute cacophony
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Out of that pond it longed to exit
Trying for a trip
From finite to the infinite.
Caught in the cob-web of
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Time and again the tedious roads
Prince of Denmark treads
Caught in the whirlwind of confusion and faith
The haunting spectre fear breeds.
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Once again a new journey begins
As the earth rotates and revolves
But new idea hardly evolves.
Inevitable as this,
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