Currency notes crisp…
Flavoury notes, soft on tongue
Delightful Cuppa.
Copyright @ Goutam Dutta
Currency notes crisp…
Flavoury notes, soft on tongue
Delightful Cuppa.
Copyright @ Goutam Dutta
Detached leaves of trees
Vagabond in winter breeze….
Unyielding bonds break.
Copyright @ Goutam Dutta
The child inside him
Dominates despite his growth….
World labels him mad.
Copyright @ Goutam Dutta
Non conformist….
Adding twist
To stories.
Copyright @ Goutam Dutta
https://thesoulsearchersite.wordpress.com/2020/11/28/6wsp-66/
No proof
Only a hunch-
Fishy
Copyright @ Goutam Dutta
https://thesoulsearchersite.wordpress.com/2020/11/21/6wsp-65/
A dilapidated castle. Exactly the place, Descriptions match With what he had read. When moon and the stars Were obscured by clouds And not a speck of light Dared make holes in night's shroud, On such a night In this castle two lovelorn hearts had sheltered and rested. The heavens had opened up that night. Threatening to thwart their plans. Elope they however did and In this castle came and hid. A little distance outside the city This old castle had existed A secret chamber built in its walls Had sheltered the lovers From that night's storm's wrath. Years later, reading the diary of his mother He found mention of this incident. Back he, therefore, had chosen to come; to quench his curiosity And savour the aura Of the place’s romanticism That his parents may have felt that night.
Copyright @ Goutam Dutta
This is a tale of an author, Indian. R K Narayan, whose Malgudi tales are superlative fun. One night he sat up late musing, When he heard on the window pane, some distinctive knocking. Well past midnight, the clock on the wall displayed. The sound to him at that moment didn’t make sense. Morning came with the news about death of an old aunt; She had died past midnight, around the time, the knocking on the window had been heard. The author, in his autobiography talks of this experience and explains- The sound was that of a spirit, his aunt’s, trying to establish connection Before moving on.
This is my attempt to convert into verse, what the famous Indian author R K Narayan has described in his autobiography-"My Days". I have been quite intrigued ever since I read this. Not sure if this is true but since he has mentioned it in his autobiography, I wonder if there isn't an element of truth in his words? Leave it to everyone's interpretation.
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