Clouds in the valley...

  I stare at carved panels And wonder - Is this how Sanchi would look Trapped inside a hall? Two thousand years of history At least some have been preserved The surreal work of the Sungas A lost world carved in stone   But most people rush by - They don’t even know what these ruins are, Like any other debris Gathering dirt in a showcase But if you touch a piece of stone Perhaps the lotus, the wheel - You will get transported To the Bharhut of golden times   A large stupa, ornate gateways And the Buddha’s last remains - Maybe you can see its birth Piyadasi’s dreams, a Hellenistic touch; But careful - one wrong breath, Or a grumbling whisper And they all come crashing down; Bharhut reduced to ruins   But wait, do you see it? A reliquary left behind Its path hidden in these very rocks Breathing life, whispering the truth The treasure visible to those alone Who can touch the lotus blossoms Of a long-forgot...

  Winter’s Kolkata Full of restfulness On the Memorial’s greens; Some are active, Busy clicking - The marbled wonder Wrapped in Makrana, Victoria Memorial – our eastern Taj (The professionals seek its reflection In the Memorial tank)   But you fixate At the very top – The wings The trumpet, The laurel Ah, the Goddess of Victory You understand my curiosity ‘She alone was allowed To disturb the illusion of symmetry’ Angel wings moving with the wind   ‘But once in a while Even the goddess is stuck Against the whims of the universe’ I could see the angel reflected In your shimmering eyes ‘But she stays – Wings spread out, Ushering hope in the metro ’ Perhaps, the seraph smiles That only few of us can see…   14 th March, 2026   The Victoria Memorial in Kolkata was conceived after Queen Victoria’s death in 1901 by Lord Curzon, drawing inspiration from the Italian Renaissance style and the Taj Mahal. ...

At Rabindra Sarovar You wonder How is it, That this vast lake Has no sunset birds?   This expansive lake - With lily pads, lotus ponds - Yet no flock at dusk Perhaps they need no closure But I don’t voice my words   The sunset came and went Like ourselves - Blazing only to dim, Yet, those missing silhouettes Stirred your inner restlessness   In the dying yellow Of the skies You have given up When I smile And point up to the last of rays   And you stare Eyes wide open In disbelief Not one, but three Large ‘V’s of cormorants fly   All at once One above the other. Unlike me, my city succeeds As we silent fade In the last rays of a sunset sky…

  Toc-a-toc Toc-a-toc Toc-a-toc Mid-day’s heat: Somewhere, In the midst Of the city’s din If you pay attention You can hear Above the hawker’s cries Beyond the truant kids A coppersmith at work   Not bidriware But the barbet Tinkers an old dream Reminding faintly Beneath this veneer There is another city Of Mango trees A kingfisher in the shadows And Chatim’s delight, The sepia city seems to stare From an old photo left behind In a musty book from yesterday   But all of this Clouded by the gasoline Of tomorrow’s Kolkata Still shouting: Cholche na Cholbe na Receding softly If you sit up and listen To the coppersmith’s world, Awakening us anew Toc-a-toc Toc-a-toc Toc-a-toc… 12th March, 2026

  Cloudy days - How long will they keep painting my Sky? Time and again, they come Bringing the smell of wet earth From the past, As much as unseen memories From the future   But what if, They are not here to romanticise? Rather to get over with: The red earth saturated so much That the inland seas from yesteryear Arise once more To enrich the land not our own   Let it bleed Let Eromanga rise again Let the fossilized memories Come to life again That we are set free To roam the desert sands Where a new adventure awaits…   8 th March, 2026   The Eromanga Sea was a vast inland sea that existed during the Cretaceous period, covering much of what is now inland Queensland and South Australia. At its height, it stretched hundreds of kilometers, creating a rich marine ecosystem that preserved fossils of marine reptiles, ammonites, and early dinosaurs. Over millions of years, the sea gradually receded, leaving behind...

  Clouds come to the hills Not to the seas, Yet your cloudy eyes appeared On Nagaon’s sands   ‘Who comes to the beach On a rainy day?’ You could have said, But you too were lost   In angry waves, howling winds The foam of lashing seas, Under inky blue skies Bringing waves of rains   Redemption, indeed In that deluge above, In that flood below Nothing for the eyes to hide   And then, you smiled You realised: It was never About the hills or seas One could be either   It is the rains that unite Dissolving all emotions Until it’s just you and me, Left behind on a cloudy day…

Purple lights Of the Howrah Bridge Ferry caught in the rains And we, in our nor’wester That first kiss Without the kiss While dancing in the thunder And hoping the journey never ends   But summer’s storm brings short relief. At the busy Howrah Station I turned back And time split, a part of me still there On the ferry Tasting rains, looking ahead The other me, awaiting clouds Under purple lights that fade away…   4 th March, 2026