No Sickness of the City

It was sunset lone The sky deep orange, and the birds lined For homecoming, and lazily they gleamed.   Thirteen peasants angling, their eyes fixed to baits, And beside half a dozen half-naked children dirtying in…

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An Old Man on a Wooden Bridge

An Old Man on a Wooden Bridge An old man sat on an old wooden bridge amid the forest deep Beneath ran a hidden mossy creek, and beyond, The trees were lovely, dark and green, and…

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WHY IS ‘SILENCE’ GOLDEN?

The great Indian Self hates Truth. It demands subordination, and acquiescence of the self. And the elites of Indian bustling cities of grace and squalor love to paddle in the murky and darkened realms of inequality,…

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THE LURE OF “HO-OOLE”

Now when he said to Shama: “Hole! That’s what your family has got me in.This hole!”… Now he keeps his address as secret as an animal keeps its hole. And his hole was not a haven.…

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MORNING WALK

I, in general, get up at 5.30 a. m and by 6.00 morning unlock the door with a screech sound and go for a morning walk. I take three miles, from Subhaspally, Falakata to Chuakhola Choupathi…

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