As I open my eyes to a
morning of festivity
As I open my eyes to
joy and gaiety.
Corporeal free
spiritedness touch my inside
To face rough life,
I feel I am ready.
As autumn strikes my
land of colours
As autumn spreads
its hue.
The sky turns an
intimate blue
How jollity strikes
my life of race, I certainly have no clue.
My ear imagines the
rhythm of “Dhak”
As my nose smells
divine smoke.
My triple eyed
Mother is soon to reach me
As my being will in
celebrations soak.
With the smell of
new clothes filling all homes
Impulsive shoppers
running around.
The crowd, the
make-up and unsaid love-stories
Each year
Sharodutsav leaves me astound.
Festivals are colourful
bits of life
Festivals are phases of
cheer.
Breathing fresh life into
saddened hearts
Bonding the near and dear.
Aritra Chakrabarty Sengupta
Nice one. I am imagining the rhythm of Dhak too.
ReplyDeleteThank u:-)
DeleteI haven't witnessed a real Durgapuja, but in Bombay, there are colonies of Bengalis, who celebrate it with a ferver. I have seen that and imagine the real thing.
ReplyDeleteYour poem made it seem so real!
Thanks
DeleteDo come to see, Powai Shardotsav by Spandan, in Hiranandani gardens, opposite cafe manjii, Powai :-)
Delete