Rumpa Ray-Ghosh (Voices Within)

Rumpa Ray-Ghosh is a published poet, a content writer, a blogger and a trained classical vocal singer. She is a post graduate and B.Ed. from the University of Calcutta. She has worked as teacher in St. Thomas School, as content-writer for ‘Pratham’ (NGO) and as Curriculum developer in Vibgyor High School in Mumbai. Rumpa publishes her writings on her blog ‘’ and has published the book “Musical Marvels of Self”. Her poems have been published in international anthologies and magazines. She has participated in many poetry events in India. She is a Sangeet Visharad from Bhatkhande Sangit Vidyapith, Lucknow.


Digressed from the path
Towards my dwelling at the woods,
I flew into a blind alley
Lured by the mysterious darkness.
Captivated in the lobby of labyrinth
Suffocated in the air locked
Snare around me
Entangled in my own escapade
I long to be released
From the confinement of deception.
Soar boundlessly
In the whitest reality of sky
Diverted from my quest for
The concept of peace
An entrapped bird I am,
Defenseless I feel swooping between
The treacherous tall blocks of concrete.

The Undaunted Mountain

Draped in the golden sunbeams in the mornings I stand tall.
I turn host to innumerous green for months
Rejuvenated with fragrant wild flowers embracing me.
I quietly witness the sun
Shifting too close to listen to my whispers,
Parched I feel during this period
Awaiting to get drenched by the gurgling fountains
Originating from my peak.
Soon the falling leaves leave me bear with the skeletal trees.
Covered with dry leaves I appear pale peanut brown.
The dew drops begin to freeze on the petals
While cold wind surrounds with a blanket of snow enfolding me.
Man ought not only aim to explore my peak
But also perceive my calmness and determination
In every storm I confront.

Fate of Stories

In the age long voyage of life
Some stories sail smooth,
Lulled by the rhythmic billows
Along the direction of the drifting waves
They turn into tales of prediction
Eventually touch the shore to settle
In the sands of contentment...

Few stories are hit by the tumultuous storm
Hauled windward, losing the course of flow.
Inconsistently they skim on the face of ocean
Intensely crave to reach the destination
Doomed to drown in the deluged ripples.
In the time to come, such stories

Remain unsettled, incomplete and untold... 

Voices Within-2020 :: Setu, February 2020

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