THE CHERRY BLOSSOM

The hundreds cherry blossom
crossed the casement frames,
out spreads the branches
let it encroach into the heart,
you are silent but indication of
passion flies through the blues,
i peeped numerous times from
the dense window, you called
again and again, unfurling the
handkerchief, embroideries of
seasons on the heart, made you
restless, how to meet you, the
distance between us, not only the
flowers, some hidden spines of
weeds, waiting vigorously to seize,
on the street, under the gulmohar
tree, please write the meaning of
love, by the twig, on the wet soil,
i would be reached on moonlight
its promise, wait for me on the
abandoned fort of city end, just
try to recognize my soul, in the
wall of castle written in riddles,
decipher somewhere my address!

-- SHANTANU SANYAL

I DID NOT SAY ANY THING

i did not say any thing on that
evening, swear by you only
before the anonymous herb
rosemary or basil i do not
know, fragrance emerged as
a perception of temple with
numerous aromatic flowers,

fumes or miasma, in the dark
touched my lips with breath,
i did not say any thing, the chest
felt sensation of humidity or bliss
difficult to analyze, an earthen
lamp seemed far away under the
century old banyan tree, exhaled
last feeble flame, night invaded
or forced by desires, i did not
know,

the hanging river bride on the
vast river, trembled by passing
high speed train or the passion,
i did not remember, my friend
i did not say any thing to cyclone
though in a moment planet was
changed, or catastrophe the dream
i did not say any thing, i looked you
far away,

disappearing slowly the
image or divine vows in the gloom
i did not call you, because it was too
late to run after the shadows, i did
say any thing, you played the game,
on your terms, won, pleased, gone,
whatever, i reconstructed the life
in my way, i did not say any thing
about the compacted tale of the
twilight, because i loved you only,
it s true, that never oath for that ---

---SHANTANU SANYAL

MIDNIGHT MASS

in plum blue night, a procession
passes bearing the auburn light,
they sung remembrance songs
towards river from the height,

flamingos fly above the saline
lake, whispering prayer all night,
emotions become the tiny stars
shines the eastern sky with bright,

on the church walls flashing hopes
midnight mass, harmonious joint,
stranger man, wearing miseries, all
along,stretched arms with delight,

angels scatter peace, beautiful sight!

-- SHANTANU SANYAL
self painting

THE SHADES

the shades of life were so yawning
brain swirled, heart drown many times,
did not get the bottom, i looked you
sleeping underneath the blues, with
enclosed tender lotus, hundreds of
petals covered your body, glossy face
as the ceramic flower vase designed
neck to base, the coral net embraced,

gleaming your beauty touched the
surface, emerged the dream on the
waves of colors, rainbows born from
the sea, splashed to sky as spring
blossom, in the museum the marble
statue of David began walking stripped,

brushes feel like feathers of soft emotions,
Michael Angelo, Leonard De Vinci, Hugo
unknown some faces surprised after
looking you on the ocean waves as the
young twilight surfs on the high tides,
moon sprinkled the tiny crystal slowly,

-- SHANTANU SANYAL

THE WAITING

the glossary of sentiments
sometimes amazed to find
the way in affection, lips, eyes
become wordless, arid land
the wrapped twilight in to the
peacock feathers, i looked you
far away in the rosy clouds
getting down slowly from the
crescent moon, perfumed winds
fascinated in a way that i felt
walking on the oceanic surface,

in this moments heart becomes
the distinct land of beauties, colors
in the north eastern sky the flock
of emotions makes the milky lines,
somewhere two souls appear like
the couple of swan, flying to infinite,

in this magnificent evening i feel
i am waiting for you since the
creation of cosmos, gazing the sky
unblinking the eyelashes,
do not remind me that i am
on the earth, i love stay forever
in the dream of your adoration,

--SHANTANU SANYAL

BUNCH OF ROSES

avalanched desires does not wait
for longer, you submerged my
persona in the circle of adoration,
a crystal blaze graphed up to vision,

trees, flowers, branches, twigs, bud
whole the world filled with romance,
we walked on the surface of lunar bliss
wild blooms were burgeoned in soul,

the cascade of mystic colorful flow
curtained our moment of compliance,
we have no hesitation to exchange the
body, heart, emotion, passion, desires
we looked our glittering faces on the
reflection of moonlight, a graceful glow,

drop drop fragrance was dripping down
on the surface hundreds lotus bloomed,
we were no more considered as mammals
in that junction our soul had been the
fire birds, flying far away, touching to the
prismatic rainbow, later we renewed
the physical look as a form of magnificent
bunch of roses dipped in the dew droplets!

--- SHANTANU SANYAL

THE THIRST

midnight passed, moon dissolved
a profound silence across the vales,
a painful violin still reciting the old
melody, reverberation goes through
heart to soul, in the concealed
moments, body becomes senseless,

just crushed by someone mercilessly
the sound pierces in to the muscles,
mind, chest, everywhere quick as the
laser beam, the tune has some mystic
effects, we feel uneasy, nervous, as deer
runs consistently to save the life, though
in the vision no any predator is existed,

unexpectedly life cries for liberation
the planet in second looks a big zero,
actually, physical desires go to saturation
the subversive thirst wants new creations,

here the violinist grows itself,perception
starts mourning songs, we roam
disparately to search extra bliss, and
we overlooked around us, some eyes
have still adoration, we did not think
the exploration of pure heart, might be
those eyes have dim light, but they glow!

--SHANTANU SANYAL








PAINTING BY JONE BINZONELLI

THE VOLCANIC CHEST

i did not get the path in the
interweave of you adoration
as in the solar eclipse, birds
confused to find the way
between light and darkness,

the profound, unsolved dialect
of your eyes made the moment
mystified, as bees sometimes
becomes speechless after looking
the beautiful paper flowers,

i do not know the final touch
creation, heart has been changed
an abstract art, caption is hidden
in your mind, the thirst is ocean,
the fidelity has grown, as ardent
feelings want to bloom, flare- up
the beauty of concealed sweet flames,

life moves in the orbit of your
persona, own axis is worthless, futile
in your reflection only my planet
glow, without you life is moonless
dense night, the thread is in your
fingers, breathing turned kites,
blinking eyelashes have influenced
the up down waves of heart,

my life is existed only in your smiles
the chest is the valley of volcano
your consent has the endless rains,

-----SHANTANU SANYAL

WET FRESCO

miles and miles the brush
painted the colors of life,
emotions did not agree to
sleep for a while, in all the
pigments, devotion inhaled,
i created dreams on your
soul, it s not only a portrait,

when and how we became
the mixing liquid we do not
know, unusual shades derived,
i sat hours near the window
thinking only for you, a color
of divine, delighted in a way
forgot the face of blue sky,

far away a tiny wild river flows
in th full moon night, your
liberal smile scatters the aroma
weeds bloom looks more
silvery,a magic grip the heart,
in this moments, feelings
becomes genderless,Krishna
and Radha fuse in different
image, the rare persona , just like
an unisex flower creates the
itself the new generation, an
extreme level of love here denies
the myth of science, theories
become the blind hypothesis,

whenever you appeared before
me, i found the dreams are
converted into the gorgeous
fresco, all charms of planet fixed
on your body, i afraid in this
moment to touch you, might be
some dreams are wet, i do not
want the eternal beauty to be disturbed,

--SHANTANU SANYAL








painting- Jayant Mukherjee

THE REJECTED RING

A hushed trail in th freezing night
sings the last, some love songs, do
you know the notation of breathings,
paralyzed rhythm want new lives,

emotions relaxed on the chair of the
garden, alone looks the falling snow,
spectacles of affection, multi cracked
dreams hide in the cozy warm corners,

as a kitten, memories try to enter, by
the half unfolded mosaic glass doors
you looked moments eagerly, few
drop of tear might be appeared but
hand shivered, you didn t lifted them,

the old fragrance of beautiful flowers
freeze on the branches, twigs, willingly
or not, you could n t remove ice layers,

in the morning stripped tree had no any
word to complain the tale of last night
as ring is left over on the velvet clothes
gem is lost, its  now hollow black spot,
fingers have rejected decade ago to it.

--- SHANTANU SANYAL
picture - painted by JONE BINZONELLI