Bhaskar Roy Barman Poems

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Bhaskar Roy Barman


As does the Great River

on to the sea and back

to the matted hair of Lord Shiva,

on flows the life-stream

adorned with ornaments,

as is a newly-wed couple.

Following on the footprints of the Great River

that leaves nonchalantly behind

a good many water-drops

evaporating midway through

and mingling with the clouds,

the life-stream does not mind

about as many human drops bowing out,

stripped of their embellishments

they once prided themselves on.

One of the human drops bowing out

was a friend of mine, succumbing

to the excessive love of his wife

and to his in-laws feigning it.

His father, as if to mock his son,

sustained himself much father in the flow

less loved by his wife

by his in-laws the least.

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