Tale of the journey

Tale of the journey

The remote halt for trains,

Surrounded by mountains, dense -

Forests, wild rivers ---

The last train passed, its midnight

Platform was deserted

Some four-five persons

And a moment crossed the gate,

Before closing the station

He checked the platform area

As a routine before going

To the bed, his bungalow was

Nearer to the halt, big, spacious

Extra large for a bachelor,

He was a handsome

Muscular young man, station

Master come booking clerk –

His desires and lust

Were endless, tribal compared

Often with wild bison to him,

How to trap the prey

And squeeze until the last drop,

He knew very well

Victims always attracted to his

Greek structure of body

And that plus point

Made him sex maniac,

It was pre monsoon, in sky thin

Clouds were flying

He entered in side the home

Stripped and drank wine

As usual –gone to bed

And started thinking for

Next prey, already lured to

Villagers by some money,

Suddenly some knock on the door

A beautiful woman was before him

He dragged her in to the bed,

In the morning, booking window

Didn’t open, traveler were worried

Reached to the bungalow

And found the dead necked

Body of station master

People never seen again that

Beautiful woman

Who often seemed by the tribal

In the past, unfamiliar face with

Extra ordinary beauty—

---Shantanu Sanyal

The dreams of morning

The dreams of morning

All dark sides of the life, assembled -

Near the bed I couldn’t sleep last night.

Every body was insisting, I had to share

Some moments with them,

One personality and hundreds characters!

How to satisfy every one, in a short night?

Infancy wanted to give back the virginity-

As friends snatched the innocent beauty

For experimental fun ---in the rainy nights,

Juvenile days demanded to get back the purity

As adults made them addicted of desire--

Some mature faces were unsatisfied as

Society forced them to follow the false doctrines,

Few old wrinkles were tired, wanted

Fresh wind to live for some more days

Endless catalog, only one thing was common-

All the sides were blank pages.

I failed to answer them, just distributed

The dreams of morning, which was standing

Somewhere in the back of darkness---

---Shantanu Sanyal

The reflection

The beautiful denial by you,

That once you kissed me!

Nothing surprise in that, that’s

Happened, but is it possible to-

Remove the lip prints on the heart?

I do not know, is it easy,

Refusal of reality, flowers and

Its fragrance, difficult to put

Out of sight, just take it normal.

The agreement between the eyes,

Acceptance was unconditional

I filled the colours and you became

The masterpiece, the painter

And his creation, that’s all,

It’s not necessary that image will

Love to her creator.

Rejection has its own flavour

Overlapped by unexplored essence

Just try, whenever you will sit

Before the mirror,

The reflection of love will ask you

the secret of lie.

--Shantanu Sanyal

The Confession

Ignorance of your profound love

I couldn’t recognize the depth-

And roamed through the shallow

Waters, life didn’t satisfy me-

My endless search for cerebral peace

Carried me from one place to other,

I changed the relations, every night

As changing the costumes,

Seasons has executed his role nicely

When I looked my image in to the

Life-sized mirror, found myself stripped

It was to late, grey haired face

Wrinkles lines, dried chest-----and

Half burned cigarettes, empty wine-

Glasses, didn’t want to release me,

I know, the passed moments wouldn’t

Come back, but doors are opened

As I fear to the loneliness.

Some desires never ends-

Some dreams are longer than the life.

---Shantanu Sanyal