Monday, December 23, 2013

In life



In life:
Some days are too tiring
Some nights are too busy
Moments descends into minutes
Minutes melts into Hours
The Hours of daily routine
Comes to define
What we are

I wish to fly away
Just like the birds
At the slightest hint

But not like a coward
But with free will


© Tarun Mitra

Monday, December 16, 2013

Faith sees no Time



Faith sees no time



A devotee at Bhairav Temple at Midnight,
At Mata Vaishno Devi Temple, Jammu & Kashmir

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Road and Life


Road and Life

For the Road
Have its both ups and downs
Light and Shade
And the by-lanes

The walkers there
Walk their way
Irrespective what Road might say

On some the sun beats down
Some relish
In umbrella’s shade
But the Road
Takes in on its sway

What if Life
Is that Road
With its Lights and shades
Ups and downs
And the Walkers
Walking their ways
And the Sun beats down
And drained by Rain
With all its by-lanes

Amidst all
Its stays there
Just like the Road
Even if
Walkers have their way
Sun beats and Rain drains
Light and Shadow
Play their games
And some might follow
Like by-lane


For the life
Is just that Road



© Tarun Mitra

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

The Waiting Hands



The Waiting Hands

The Petals showered
When they said “Yes”
And the ceremonies
Came to an end
They both sat
As elders hailed
Their blessings
And good wishes
Amongst these cacophony
Of laughter and grin
Their hands waited
With reticent zest
Amongst the petals
But at a distance
Just like dew drops
On the leafs’ edges
They both waited
For their time to come
But who’ll move first
They wondered
And among the cacophony
Of laughter and grin
Of shared jokes
And leg pulling
Their hands waited
With reticent zest
For a moment
Etched forever.


© Tarun Mitra

Monday, December 9, 2013

The Rose



“Beauty and love pass, I know... Oh, there's sadness, too. I suppose all great happiness is a little sad. Beauty means the scent of roses and then the death of roses” 
 
F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise

Sunday, December 8, 2013

Friday, December 6, 2013

Alleys of Chandni Chowk



Now my charms are all o'erthrown,
And what strength I have’s mine own,
Which is most faint.Now, ’tis true,
I must be here confined by you,
But release me from my bands
With the help of your good hands.
Gentle breath of yours my sails Must fill,
or else my project fails,
Which was to please. Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant,
And my ending is despair,
Unless I be relieved by prayer,
Which pierces so that it assaults
Mercy itself and frees all faults.
As you from crimes would pardoned be,
Let your indulgence set me free.

-        William Shakespeare, The Tempest

Thursday, December 5, 2013

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Because Business is Business


Because Business is Business

A Vegetable seller plying his Trade in Chandni Chowk 

Monday, December 2, 2013

Knock Knock



"Knock Knock!"

"Who's There"

"Bugger off.."


Do visit my Facebook Page Target Aim Shoot 

Sunday, December 1, 2013

Sleep came silently


Sleep came silently
Amongst the hubbub of the place
And the man slept indifferently
To the harshness of his bed

As the world moved around him
And the cold wind wrapped its blanket
He slept nonchalantly
To everything else

Without a hint of luxury
Without the lament of poverty
The sleep came and he slept
Just a like a death

But unlike death He’ll wake up
To his piercing reality, sometime
And his stomach will speak in a language
Which only a stomach can understand

Till then he sleeps
Indifferent to everything else
Even if he had a dream
His dream will be realized in this harsh bed


© Tarun Mitra