Having long lost it,
Each trial towards recognition
Is met with deafening disaster,
Leaving me breathless and bound
To the rusted earthly body -
Naked and Numb!
And I find the grip of my hand
Slipping away silently by the second,
And the ship of my hopeless dreams
Sinking slowly in the sand,
Where the only pool of water
Is by my drenched face of tears!
Hence, I stare now, looking for a shade,
And I see two paths that lead to a tree -
One with a thousand thorns, but is shorter,
And the other one paved, but tedious and long -
Which one shall I choose
To save my burning skin from the sun?
This world of lucid lies
Made of Beautiful Butterflies -
Thrives on leaves of tender olives,
Resembling the hope as it dies,
So, shall I travel for a quicker gain,
Or, embark for long with lesser pain?
They say, Timeless I am,
Beyond fear, beyond pain,
Riding through tides of time.
But, I feel wanting, watching -
On crutches of crumbling faith -
Counting Breaths to my Death!
-- Bhaskar Ghosh
Sun, 22 Feb 2026,
1:26 pm, Kolkata
