Photo and Poetry

Paramita Mukherjee Mullick


Do the crows know who lives in the house?
The house with the bolted windows.
The green shutters becoming grey with age.
The walls in a sorry and shabby state.
Needing a fresh coat of paint for long.
The plaster peeling off in many places.
Once the house was yellow in colour.
Patches of yellow is still to be seen.

Do the crows know who lives in the house?
The house which has stood still for ages.
History lying still in a central Calcutta lane.
The crows hoping and flying on the terrace.
Landing on the cornice to rest their wings.
The blackened water tank with no water.
No sound to be heard, no soul to be seen.
The cawing of the crows the only sound.


In the early morning, when the earth is awakening.,
The trees are awakening,
The birds are awakening,
The sun is awakening,
My mind awakens to a new day.

Silent, tranquil and calm.
A mellow light touching the sky,
Just like the pinkish tinge on a new bride’s face.
The black silhouettes of buildings.
Lights glistening at some windows.

The peaceful hour of awakening.
The household is awakening.
Humans everywhere are awakening.
Nature is awakening.
My soul awakens to a new day.

No comments :

Post a Comment

We welcome your comments related to the article and the topic being discussed. We expect the comments to be courteous, and respectful of the author and other commenters. Setu reserves the right to moderate, remove or reject comments that contain foul language, insult, hatred, personal information or indicate bad intention. The views expressed in comments reflect those of the commenter, not the official views of the Setu editorial board. प्रकाशित रचना से सम्बंधित शालीन सम्वाद का स्वागत है।