Gopal Lahiri

The Gatherings Some moments are words enslaved in a thesaurus they become a whip, an evening storm.Some moments linger like a summer breezethey speak in only sky-blue tongues.Some moments grow only in liminal spaceseach space is placed like an uneven surface.Some moments reflect elegies and epigramswhile others may come into a quieter focus.Some moments reshape…

Chandrani Mukherjee

The Mirror on the Wall The mirror looked at meWith kindnessThat surprised me. In the corner of the majestic roomWhere furniture lay strewn,Ostensibly attempting to overwhelm the ordinary,The mirror stood alone.You could see the world converge,Yet not your own deep thoughtsThat you were running away from.The platter of fruits, The unmade bed,A few clothes disarrayedin…

Sarban Bhattacharya

Untitled So many times, my brittle heart is ripped By matchless agony of failed desire.That chronic torpor firmly keeps it gripped Beneath its heavy metaphoric mire. A well-poised neuron sanely won’t behave, When, in such bizarre fashion, days are passed, Of sweet temptation fraught that I would crave, A false delight that disappears to dust.…

Lopamudra Banerjee

The Lover and His Muse The somnambulist lover paints in patches of burnt sienna, fiery yellow, the blood red, the fuchsia pink melts in his palette, singing a truant autumnal sonata. Those hands, once robust and juvenile, had crafted poetry,romanced with words with the steady insistence of an awestruck paramour. Juices of poesy spilled over,…