THE SILENCE 

the silence, itself says 

numerous stories,

as the 

beautiful valleys of life,

under the shadow

 of clouds,

unfolds the inner lanes,

passing through the

 lattice light,

persona discovers the 

hidden realities,

the tender 

morning rays, the longer

shadow of trees,

innovative

 beauty of nature, writes

unpublished 

aesthetic 

verse,

between receipt and 

abandoned,

emotion

flows as wild stream, as

recluse monk

walking 

alone 

on the trail of tiny wild

bloom, a 

realization or 

renunciation, the self 

exploring or 

knowing 

the creation of world with 

new thought, 

- SHANTANU SANYAL

http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.com/

oil painting - artist unknown 

THE UNKNOWN VOICE 

never get tired that voice, resonating 

in the valleys, constantly, in the

layer of mist, it's never

linger, that moves 

towards the 

essence 

of life,

creates new dimensions, with the 

definition of live and let live;

it moves through the

 heart to soul,

includes 

to everybody in its persona, that's a 

comprehensive light, that

merges all  the

 darkness, 

a perception of humanism, which 

absorbs all the pain beyond 

any discrimination,

a tiny stream

accepts 

whole disregard of coastal habitats, 

breaks the silence of injustice, 

stir the conscience, 

raises the 

question against the atrocities, 

exploitation of doctrines,

that voice never 

permit me

to seep, 

every night I pledge, that I will follow 

the way of Dolorosa, in each 

day break life wants

to walk on the

foot prints

of that spirit, the Adventist crusader for

the humanity,  

- SHANTANU SANYAL

http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.com/

painting source  - test of time lithograph 

TILL THEN GOODBYE

Maybe recluse for tonight, emotions
are so tired, body and mind
wants a little rest,
please
remove all the pseudo layers, do not
call me, in the infatuated voice,
let me release, myself from the
elusive contract,
I promise,
before dawn, I will come back,
nothing is hidden from you,
my life was an
open book,
as you
wanted, you've read, underlined, and even
highlighted on the body parts
or the waves of emotion,
as a tamed bird
I followed,
repeated your tuning, your music,
sang the unknown lyric, as
a chorus of the life
remained
behind your love, even I forget self
persona, a fear to go in the margin,
a hidden horror of
sidelined life,
despite
wishing I couldn't leave your deadly
indulgence, but now drop -
the scene, though I have
assured you,
to come
back, however, that dawn should be
same with your dream, as
a crystal clear surface
of love, to see
 the real
image, the perfect combination of body
and soul, just wait for that
miraculous morning,
till then good
bye - - -

- SHANTANU SANYAL
http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.com/
Seattle s Painting

  

THE RETURN OF SPRING 

opaque vision was mine, it's not fair

to blame others, not easy to 

differentiate between

rain and fog, 

because

from the window I looked the valley, 

conscience couldn't climb

the stairs of the

shrine, what

was he, 

immortal or mortal heart couldn't 

identify, a mystic love or

personal needs,

what was 

that, 

who doesn't permit to sleep me 

peacefully, though last 

night dreams were

vociferous 

with

attractive colors, but I do not know

why, I couldn't see anything 

other than black and

white, or indeed,

I didn't try to

know 

the life in depth, just watched him, 

returning back empty-

handed, alone

far away, 

however, not depressed; with dim 

smile; he said, just rethink 

colorful - - 

- SHANTANU SANYAL

 http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.com/

wild bloom - by Aubusson painting

THE LEAVING SCENARIO 

it's time or the rapid running train, going

in higher velocity, in mysterious 

way, leaving all beautiful 

halts both sides, 

life is 

steady  or endearment going back in 

the light speed, as acacia trees,

paddy fields, lotus blooming

ponds, the flock of 

sparrow, or 

alone 

kingfisher, wild stream, aren't they in 

their place, or an illusion is 

dragging them with 

dementia, 

maybe 

a dream restlessly searching the lost 

address, in the mirage, isn't

the hidden oasis, who 

knows, the real 

destination, 

every 

lips has unquenchable thirst, isn't, each 

desire has the sparked fire, the

vast desolation everywhere,

every heart is beating

to touch the zenith 

point, to get

the more

than destiny, but time is passing with 

intensity - - -

- SHANTANU SANYAL  
http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.com/

mtstic train 

THE UNEXPLAINED

It's hard to say, who played a role in what way, life is not a digital
arithmetic, not possible
to discard the
crowd,
although everyone is alone, and have
to go away, one day alone,
after knowing everything,
however, we loved
the stage and
perform
beautifully, the glittering audience of -
sky clapped with illumination,
endless comedy, drama,
separation, union,
smile and cry,
some
unsung character, some bright pseudo
shadows, in the negative photos,
or sometimes in the
concentration
of colors,
I have searched the life desperately,
sometimes pin drop silence
and often chortle,
somewhere
between
affinity and isolation, your love has called
me, sustainably - -

- SHANTANU SANYAL 
http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.com/
childhood - by indus ladies 

THE ENDLESS TRAVEL

the smiles aren't the translation of life, I

know, but no choice, commitment 

are thirsty, the reality is that

at every step we have

to be comic;

nothing 

is mine, it's true; but not easy to break

the bonds of love, dying is easy;

living with cyclonic wind,

amid the rise and

fall the protect

of persona,

aren't simple, that's the essence of life;

nothing short tract, continuous 

traveling, every step has

a new revelation,

sometimes 

I'm on the earth and destiny remains in

the sky, perhaps, it's too 

happened, he is 

so near, just

before 

the eye, but recognition was difficult, so 

I forget him just like a beautiful

dream of early dawn,

smiled and

went back on the path of life - - - 

- SHANTANU SANYAL

http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.com/

chinese painting 

THE ADIEU OF DARKNESS

tonight the cloistral soul will wait,

if you can, do not forget to 

come,reconciliation of 

body and spirit, 

between the

earth and

space,

somewhere, in the emptiness of 

transparent ether, I will 

return some of 

belongings, 

some 

poetry written by moonlight on the

chest, few dew drops which

still on the tip of acacia 

thorn, numerous 

crystalline 

feeling

under the process of amethyst

touch, eager tuberoses, 

many aromatic oath,

various dreams 

of early 

dawn, 

some clasp some sweet kiss, the

smile of first blooming bud

of spring, after the all 

warlock body, 

realese 

me 

from the addictive illusion of your 

eyes - - 

- SHANTANU SANYAL

http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.com/

art  - Silent prayer by GILAD BENARI

My pain was very trivial - - - 

probably, you didn't feel, the dumb 

pain, the ambush of killer

night, saline touch 

of moonlight 

into the

fresh wound, because, what you 

wanted, you've achieved, 

but my deep miles

long loneliness 

you've

deepened more,and that isolation 

made me the realistic, to

know himself I didn't

left the

householder life, rather accepted 

the defeat, I learned from

failures, identified

himself, 

learned to walk carefully, whatever 

the definition of Nirvana; but 

that love has shown 

me the path of 

infinite 

salvation, autism mind was narrow;

hence my love has opened 

the gate for universal 

entry, may be 

I haven't

share on the earth but kingdom of 

sky is extensive, no one can

overthrow him, that 

almighty

contained the all-pervading love - - 

- SHANTANU SANYAL

  http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.com/  

Art By Carole Sneddon 

THE BLUISH GRANDEUR 

that hangover remains prolong, though

season had changed numerous

stages, may be spring or 

autumn, someone

holds the 

hands 

in every step, the blues evenings or -

nocturnal loneliness, an 

indirect effect of 

magic or

love, 

remains into the persona, a prison, 

which is reassuring to the 

heart, an empty cage

 flying towards 

the sky,

to fill the chest by blue grandeur, the 

life at any cost; do not want

to accept the 

defeat,

- SHANTANU SANYAL 

http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.com/

Watercolor Paintings -by Maria Barry