Puskar Sikdar

When desires arise, they know no bounds,
Chasing dreams, leaving kindness behind in rounds.
From birth, a cry of longing springs,
Awakening a mother's love that eternity brings.
...

What veil covers those restless eyes,
Where only fear and doubts arise?
The mind is no child to wander astray—
Only patience and toil light the way.
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As soothing ice touched the scorched earth,
A wondrous creation took its birth!
In the steaming broth of life's first dawn,
Oxygen surged, the world was drawn.
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Behind the veil of a thoughtless, weightless mind,
In shattered dreams' unyielding bind;
Even yesterday,
Along memory's fragile, meandering stream,
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In the restless dawn of life's embrace,
I gathered fallen mangoes filled with grace.
One by one, they slipped through fate's cruel sieve,
Lost in an alley where shadows weave.
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Two flowers sway, side by side,
Drifting gently in life's tide.
Our joy once set its anchor deep,
Yet now, it melts in silence steep.
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You once stayed close,
Deep within my soul,
Yet as time slipped by,
Man left you far from whole.
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In silent serenity, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth,
Bound by a pulse, an irreplaceable bond takes form.
Soft whispers of love, a cradle of tender embrace,
A newborn's arrival fills hearts with boundless grace.
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You have returned once again,
Don't leave in such haste.
If you don't share a word or two,
I might sulk in silent protest.
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At the silent window of a weary soul,
Today, I stand alone, lost in a hollow gaze;
Counting the drifting, restless clouds,
A tangled mind sketches dreams in shades of despair.
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Beyond the hollow laughter of a dreamer's realm,
A silent spark of life ignites within;
The echoes of agony, the taste of salted tears,
Are all forgotten in love's embrace, deep and serene.
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The little boy crawled on the ground,
Hands and knees, without a sound.
His father lifted him to his chest,
Filling his heart with dreams, the very best.
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When the newborn took its first steps,
The home lit up with endless delight.
But amidst the city's crowded streets,
One call rang—and father vanished that night.
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Unknown invitation letter—
Receiving, reached the place.
A garden of tulips;
There's a girl sitting.
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The polished consciousness of ignorance's wall,
A voiceless heart, lost in its silent call.
A gentle bird's harsh yet sweet refrain,
Wakes the slumbering soul again.
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Dust has settled on the black-and-white screen of my colorful life,
The call of distorted dreams stirs a deep, aching strife.
Thorns of this battle bind my hands and feet so tight—
If I could be a bird, I would escape this plight.
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In the hazy glow of whispered pain,
A fairy-tale boat drifts in ebbing rain.
Muted defiance bows to fate,
As barren clouds mourn at dusk's gate.
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In shackles of fear, the wounded lie,
One by one, they fall from the sky.
Blindfolded reigns in a crimson age,
Life is naught—while the wise stay caged.
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Uncertain life, shrouded in mist,
The soul trembles at rain's soft kiss.
In shifting rivers, thoughts set sail,
Yet bitterness lingers in love's trail.
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Scorched dunes bathed in painted stone,
Dawn's hush brings a bird unknown.
Alone, the heart hums a distant tune,
Reviving rocks with dreams of monsoon.
...