2050
#Abhijit #review
The soil is now a desert
The water is now a salty shallow sea
I had a home once at the coast
But now it is at the bottom of that shallow sea
Because it’s the year 2050
Now the tress are gone
Their roots remain laughing on our face for our stupidity
Now the air is black and we have a smog
Even breathing good air is now a commodity
Because it’s the year 2050
The humans are such that they stay in their virtual reality
In oblivious to its own anarchy
Humans are happy to be the cause of their own fatality
Because it’s the year 2050
Sometimes it’s hard to believe
The truth of the insanity
By which we are unaware
The mankind and humanity
Wake up, open your eyes
There is still time
Its December 2020
#Abhijit #review
The soil is now a desert
The water is now a salty shallow sea
I had a home once at the coast
But now it is at the bottom of that shallow sea
Because it’s the year 2050
Now the tress are gone
Their roots remain laughing on our face for our stupidity
Now the air is black and we have a smog
Even breathing good air is now a commodity
Because it’s the year 2050
The humans are such that they stay in their virtual reality
In oblivious to its own anarchy
Humans are happy to be the cause of their own fatality
Because it’s the year 2050
Sometimes it’s hard to believe
The truth of the insanity
By which we are unaware
The mankind and humanity
Wake up, open your eyes
There is still time
Its December 2020
The Cursed Bookmark
#Abhijit #review
It was the 1990s
The library was silent as usual
Every thing was ordinary and casual
I went for the bookrack in search of my novel
It had a bookmark inside, everything was hand written and colossal
The novel was old, some pages torn
But it had been stuck again by someone unknown
On the bookmark a message was written
It was about life’s will to destroy what was beautiful once, now ugly and forgotten.
I started reading the book, tried to immerse deep and enjoy it
But my thoughts were occupied by the message inside
The hand written message had me in a conundrum
I wrote a message for that person
Asking the name and reason of writing such a message
Without thinking of the outcome
I kept the book in the bookshelf
In hope for an appropriate reply
And to my surprise I got one
It was an invitation to meet that person face to face
I was happy to comply
It was a café beside a railway station
I waited till evening
To my anguish the person never appeared
Keeping me in delusion
When I was leaving, I had a vary feeling
A feeling of been watched, being judged
As I entered my train. I noticed that I was all alone
Then a station came I went outside
I got astonished by the eerie silence shrilling through my bone
I started to run Panicking
I started to fear the unknown
I saw a paper flying towards me
It was the bookmark; I saw it clear
It fell before me. I went to pick it up
I fainted then and there.
I was then woken by the librarian
Was this all a dream, I question?
Then a bookmark was given to me by the librarian, the devil, the unknown
Taking my soul in return.
#Abhijit #review
It was the 1990s
The library was silent as usual
Every thing was ordinary and casual
I went for the bookrack in search of my novel
It had a bookmark inside, everything was hand written and colossal
The novel was old, some pages torn
But it had been stuck again by someone unknown
On the bookmark a message was written
It was about life’s will to destroy what was beautiful once, now ugly and forgotten.
I started reading the book, tried to immerse deep and enjoy it
But my thoughts were occupied by the message inside
The hand written message had me in a conundrum
I wrote a message for that person
Asking the name and reason of writing such a message
Without thinking of the outcome
I kept the book in the bookshelf
In hope for an appropriate reply
And to my surprise I got one
It was an invitation to meet that person face to face
I was happy to comply
It was a café beside a railway station
I waited till evening
To my anguish the person never appeared
Keeping me in delusion
When I was leaving, I had a vary feeling
A feeling of been watched, being judged
As I entered my train. I noticed that I was all alone
Then a station came I went outside
I got astonished by the eerie silence shrilling through my bone
I started to run Panicking
I started to fear the unknown
I saw a paper flying towards me
It was the bookmark; I saw it clear
It fell before me. I went to pick it up
I fainted then and there.
I was then woken by the librarian
Was this all a dream, I question?
Then a bookmark was given to me by the librarian, the devil, the unknown
Taking my soul in return.