DARK AND LIGHT

The whimsy of the nirvana brought
me, on the stairs of the Ganges,
before the offering, the sacred
flowers, water, honey, sandals
the flow of the river rejected the appeal,

they wanted to see my egos,
depth of heart, the life s hidden
diary, the verification of shadow,
the shock of exposing the body
and mind, I had no explanations,

the lines of the forehead are crossed
to each other in a such way that
unwillingly, the mission was postponed,
far away in the muddy waters,
the sun was sinking or searching
the way to create the morning in
some other planet, Siddhartha and
Sujata both were looking to each
other, I preferred the middle path,

returned to my beloved world,
as I have to live in my way, loving
to surroundings, it is my paradise,
might be full of miseries, agonies
but the ultimate destination is here, only
among the dark and light faces.
---- SHANTANU SANYAL
(Siddharth is the name of Buddha and Sujata
is a lady who offered sweet rice during
end of Buddha's meditation)

THE UNDEFINED BLISS - -

In your eyes, there's a glimpse of
lost childhood, I again want
to be with you, in your
reweaving of
dream,
among the flock of some nomadic
pigeons, I'm still searching
your unleashing
laughter,
an unbound flight, upwards the - -
sky from the burning earth,
looking for a natural
pleasure,
in your open palm still existed the
touch of colorful butterflies,
in your dream still
inhabited
some swarm of fireflies with the - -
amazing brilliance - -

* *
- SHANTANU SANYAL 

http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.in/
ART Andre-Kohn 1.jpg

BLOOMING DESIRE - -

Whether it's the dawn of a long
crippled night or be the turn
of the desired destination,
every single
moment
of life is to live adventurously - -
nature has its own way,
doesn't care to
anybody,
it's a personal matter that how an
individual fill the colours in
his life! Everyone has their own
way to
look at the dream, be it coloured or
black and white, there
should be desire
for replete
bloom.
* *
- SHANTANU SANYAL

ACROBATIC SWIRL OF DRY LEAF

Here the river loses the pride, ego,
self-deception, gradually mixes
into the sea, goes silently
beneath the massive
waves, accepts
the rendition,
the sky
looks, surprisingly, her inclination !
on the way stony wharf, fixed
vessel, the tree ficus
religiosa, offering
flowers, floating
lamp on the
plantain
stem,
all receded far away as the soul -
left the corporal planet, when
autumn knocked on the door
of nature nobody has
the crypto – lane,
the desires
become
on that
moment of the pale, stale, dry leaves
falling down the surface in
acrobatic way, blues
laughs loudly, the
wind has no
certain
destination, who knows where to
continue the travel of life,
the floating on the
wind, looks too
beautiful,
river now into the dense chest of
ocean, forgetting gradually
the address of origin,
now her identity
has different
look, it's
destiny !

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

© It's subject to copyright. 

SOMETIMES IT'S HAPPENED - -

Do not force me again, to fall in the -

traps of blind chasm, with a 

great difficulty, life has 

recouped just now,

a blue beam 

of your 

eyes goes through the frail emotion, 

a covert stream flows in the inner 

valley of sentiment, a wish 

to touch you, a desire

to feel you, inner 

the chest, 

often 

brings the persona, on the trail of - 

unusual mystery, I'm afraid,

somewhere an unseen 

conspiracy of 

fortune, 

inviting the uncalled storm ! neither 

clouds nor the crash of 

thunder, I do not 

know, then 

why -

before the night, the heart vibrates 

with strange perception - - 

* * 

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

Ioan Popei Angel Painting 

NOTHING ABNORMAL - -

It's meaningless to wait for midnight,
the misty evening has befallen
long ago, now it's time to
be lost in path of
nomadic
dreams, vagrancy of life says, every
flamboyant bloom hasn't the
ambrosial feeling, just
like a broken
promise
which never keeps the scent of love,
again I'm returning toward the
adust desert, again I've
to learn the art of
living in the
thorns,
well done my friend, at least life has
knew, the difference amid the
real and paper flower - -

* *
- - SHANTANU SANYAL
http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.com/
camellia art

THE CREATION OF MIRROR

When the heart is illuminated, the body 
doesn't demand more pleasure, 
it becomes gradually the 
anchorite, denial of 
outer beauties,
peculiar 
self 
identity emerges with hundreds 
petals of rare lotus, life 
searches your love 
somewhere into
the whorl of 
spiny 
bloom, the crystalline teardrops
of self-immolation existed,
in the umbilicus of 
cognition, the 
real 
reflection of character becomes
clear here, soul meets to 
absolute soul in a 
way that mirror 
becomes 
the life, 

- -  SHANTANU SANYAL 

THE QUIESCENT MOMENT - -

Where the life stops for anyone, - 

everything is the matter 

of moment, where 

I'm today, there

tomorrow

will be

someone, respectively, replenish

the spaces, that turning point 

had its own compulsion,

though the mile 

stone has

looked

with hydrous eye, however the - - 

eternal emptiness has 

the short life, time 

maybe fill the

cavity of 

wound, but the feeling of pain will

not get the salvation, it'll

chase throughout 

the ages,

season has its own priority list - - 

I do not know, where is 

that tear droplet 

which fell 

down 

silently on the skeleton leaf - - - - - 

* * 

- SHANTANU SANYAL 

http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.com/
Painting by M Diane Bonaparte 

I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING - -

Neither on the earth nor in the sky,

not near the mysterious 

horizon, but it's

certain,

somewhere, you've exchanged -

the emotion with long sigh, 

changed the life 

silently !

I don't remember where and how,

the dream became true, 

in the desert 

evening 

as clouds emerged and scattered

randomly, neither you've

thought nor the 

waves of 

my heart, predicted the untimely - - 

rain, it had to be, it has 

happened - - 

* * 

- SHANTANU SANYAL  

 

DO NOT CALL ME - -

Go back you all the shadow of the earth,
from here, the solitary journey
begins, expressionless
the familiar faces,
the stranger
look
of moonlit arcade, unknown silvan -
bloom and too long the trail
of transmigration, do
not call me with
nickname,
now no
longer possible to return, do not wait
for me, just lit a candle on the
path of darkness, where
I've been left over
the earthly
love,
a dream to become the infinite scent,
* *
- SHANTANU SANYAL