𝓔𝔁𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓻𝓮

𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓷𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓪𝓻𝔂
𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰
𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓫𝓮
𝓪𝓬𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓾𝓻
𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓲𝓻𝓮, 𝓯𝓪𝓻
𝓪𝔀𝓪𝔂
𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓭 𝓯𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓼
𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝔀𝓮 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽
𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮, 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓶
𝓱𝓪𝓼 𝓲𝓽𝓼 𝓸𝔀𝓷
𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓾𝓽𝔂,
𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮
𝓻𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝓲𝓽𝓼 𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓬𝓲𝓻𝓬𝓵𝓮
𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓼 𝓸𝓾𝓽𝓮𝓻
𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓻𝓮, 🌿
- - 𝓢𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓾 𝓢𝓪𝓷𝔂𝓪𝓵

REAL ADDRESS - -

Whatever the address of genesis,
that's not a matter of discussion,
the whole world belongs to
the same sanctum -
sanctorum, all
humankind
links with
the
same point where the mother's - -
womb exists, the man-made
philosophy doesn't work
here, living creatures
have to breathe
in a natural
way, all
so -
called angelic dogmas are nothing
more than brainwashing, the
truth remains suppressed
beneath the darkness
of ignorance, in
point of fact
two things
are the
only
creates the structure of civilization
and those are the male and
female, but we fight with
each other uselessly,
for the unseen
deity, the
nature
goes
in its way, flowers bloom, and birds
make the nest, living creatures
do not wait for divine
permission,
Whatever
the
address of genesis, that's not a - -
matter of discussion.
* *
- - SHANTANU SANYAL

THE LAST TRAIN

The deserted and isolated platform,
the last train passed before a
few seconds, green and
red lights as usual
on and off in
a graphic
way,
tracks were breathed to relax a long
and hard work, a different feeling
prevailed in the atmosphere
a blank and steady
moments strange
but someone
very familiar
face,
sitting alone with the barren eyes
waiting for the next train,
long grey beard bent
backbones, worn
out body
shattered
soul,
dirty damaged clothes, sleepless
face, decade long dark deep
circle under the cracked
spectacles, lines, and
lines with several
wrinkles dry
and hard
injured
lips
forgotten to smile, died or forced
to die, destiny has the answer,
once beloved, first removed
from the so-called sweet
home later detached
the memories, as
a useless
antique
piece,
since that night, a man's endless
 journey started---a long killer
night never ends to get the
first-morning train alone,
he started walking on
the tracks, slowly
the image---
disappeared into the horizon, to
an unknown destination!
- - SHANTANU SANYAL

Alone Traveller - -

The mirror of the time has
versatile art of rotation,
nobody succeeds
to stay with
fake
farce, often I erase my own
creation, I'm walking on
the glass looking
towards the
sky,
beneath it is a deep valley,
I haven't time to look
down, there's no
option in this
do-or-die
situation,
all bonds were camphoric
attachment, so no
more repentance,
alone traveller
has always
free
infatuation. - - -
* *
- - SHANTANU SANYAL  

MORNING STAR - -

Do not promise to come
back again, many
things remain
enveloped
under
the
sand, at least there should
be some purpose in life,
forgetting is a normal
process, slowly
you, too, will
get used
to it
one day, body, heart, desire
isn't separated from each
other, dried springs
live far inside
the dead
river,
maybe one day it will be
rejuvenated, who
knows? Some -
where in
an oasis,
we will
exist,
maybe you can recognize me,
as a bird or a dim star
in the morning.
* *
- - SHANTANU SANYAL  

THE MYSTIC PATH - -

Didn't get any colour, as - -
my heart desired, I
tried to draw
several
times
the
lost childhood whenever,
indeed, life has its
own limitations,
across
the
transparent butterfly wings,
I have seen you're
trying to touch
me, we both
are now
invincible
souls,
floating with the sacrosanct
flow, from here begins
the inner journey
of the seraphic
world, you've
to go
through the process of
ecdysis, nothing is
for hiding, in
this path,
everybody has to pass
uncovered, now the
man-sized mirror
is before us,
the
self-assessment is the only
way to correct our
existence, nothing
remains across
the zero line,
everything
is in this
moment,
after
that, there are only foggy
paths everywhere - -
* *
- - SHANTANU SANYAL  
 

THE TRANSMUTATION - -

In the pin-drop silence of
the night, life replaces
the darkness with
a slough of
moonlight,
in the
wilderness of naked truth,
all leaves fall gradually,
those moments
never-to-be-
forgotten,
the
swapping of body and soul
with each other, the
nature looks
speechlessly
our
metamorphosis, as a wing
of a butterfly comes
out from the
cocoon
slowly,
in
the moonlit river, waves
write silently Omar
Khayyam's
poetry,
your
love breaks all the man-
made boundaries,
creates new
horizon
of
beauty - -
* *
- - SHANTANU SANYAL

DODGING TO THE DEATH - -

A strange fallacy often brings
me in the blankness of
arid, tho' you were
just near me,
sometimes
life
becomes the wild river, a light
rain of happiness breaks
the piers, whenever
you've
unexpectedly touched me, do
not know where's the
destination of
broken
stars,
in your mystic eyes, I've seen
the origin of the milky way,
the account of life
never ends,
let it be
in its
place, whenever you came,
it looks like you never
separated from
my existence,
as soon
as
you disappear everything
looks like the glacial
era, the earth
freezes,
the
sky becomes the endless grey
smoke, do not know how this
attachment crossing
years and years
perhaps it
will go
in an
infinitive way, even it dodging - -
the death - -
* *
- - SHANTANU SANYAL

NOBODY WAITS -

After many decades of traceless,
I've returned to the suburban
lane of the past, in search
of innocence love,
those hidden
corners
of life
are changed in a big way, once
there was a banyan tree,
a twittering ceremony
of birds often held
there, when
evening
comes
down slowly into the river, the
nocturnal blooms began
to spread the magical
scent of wild
jasmine,
in the
ruins of the ancient temple,
someone waits for me
after giving seduction
to the world, we
haven't fear
the
venomous serpents, beneath
the grove of bamboo
plants, we weaved
dreams for life,
we have
written
endless poetry beyond the - -
boundary of literature,
we didn't follow the
rule of grammar
and crossed
all skylines
of
manmade, and reached to the
unknown world of passion,
tho' that journey remained
shorter but unfinished,
the wind wheel of
time moving in
its place,
everything is changed, suburban
has no more existed now it's part
of the metropolis, I didn't
get your address, it's
time to go
back - -
* *
- - SHANTANU SANYAL 

THE PEACOCK FEATHER - -

It's easy to be a self-proclaimed
messiah, the realism of life
doesn't wait for the
turning point,
the book
keeping
of a
mirror never reflects hypocrisy,
doesn't matter in its eye,
you're a  microbe or
a giant, today
goad is in
your
hands, but don't think you're
sky-high, the beat of time
never forgives maybe
you're a big noble
client, everything
has an end
edge,
nobody is a fadeless creature,
the rifts are part of life
compromise is the
real glue for
joint, the
span
of
survival is the desire of the
moth for some time, just
keep some peacock
feathers on the
pages of -
midnight.

* *
- - SHANTANU SANYAL