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Visual surroundings-
Some of it are monotonous -
Tiring are Some of it sometimes-
Maybe traditional scenes
Unknowingly builds the pinnacle -
Of the dreamless minaret.

Or-
Talk about rubbish
That rains incessantly
Disturbs the Subconscious.


Rather in the darkness of decade
Or-
It can be seen in the solitary silence-
Painted canvas of exquisite scenery.


Conducting these affordable scenes
Covers the retina with a lot of glitter
Landscape disoriented at the huge gathering.


Sweaty hands on a busy day
The magic of a sad face-
Awesome romantic radiance
Accustomed to seeing and done-
Splendid revealed stanzas
Still flew away by seeing-
The volatile spotted bird flies away.

When violin strings of rage and love
Frightened, bewildered- trembling all over
Frozen ice is then the lifeblood of Balmiki.


It is difficult today to be on account of-
The huge horizon of potentiality is now over
At a limit of negligible fifty meters.

The supply line is about to close
Became apprehensive-
The pure heart of the original poet
Tragic song of rare moments of the heart
On the barren desert is invisible
On the barren ground.



Then-
Rubbing the gathering dark 
I keep the latent fire burning
Dark-
As soon as I see in lightless eyes
The craftsmanship of the antique building woke up
Lying in a black boat on the chest of Padma-
Excellent co-existence with salty body
Of the farmer with the bundles of paddy
Beautiful scene of love on the waterbody.

When meditating in the dark-
Embodies the arrangement of scenes
One after another-
As if it were an illusory movie-
The memorable past displayed.


Slipping hands, rolls down-
The wonder freak of time
Measures the distance of time-
The complex magic of loneliness.

On the wall of careless white building
Painted the rusty copper grating
Cold air mixes with its hot air.

Snarling of cruel time-
All the traumatic events-
The evil wound makes tired
The sad eyes of the Sirius-
By disturbance of fly buzzing
Being extremely disturbed-
Chooses he voluntary exile
The simple heart of the unique worker.



Melting the long arm of the cruel time
Falls down-
The plaster of the decaying building
Of Baliati Palace- 
Tears rolled by its Salty brick-dust.
Distant becomes near through binoculars-
Far distant star becomes nearer 
In the illusory binoculars of the eyes
It looks so beautiful- 
The Reflection of the ancient house.

Noise of the crowd-
The huge noise of the crowd
The hall is full of noise
Yet he is the eye of the mind
Seeing through illusory binoculars-
In the dry canal of Mayapur
Sound of the beautiful rainy season.


Suddenly-
Murmured and called out-
Flows-
And in the darkness of night
Fills her dry body
Swells up the chest waves
The exuberance of life flows
In the presence of innumerable stars
Stares at its water-
That is the bright full moon.


Lots of crowds, huge views
Yet the particles of light in the sad mind-
Dimly glows-
Pushes into the illusory world-
Dawn in the fog
Twilight in the evening in the Gallinule's call
In Coucals’ loud groaning
Broken is the day’s silence
In the chest of night-
In the flickering light of the firefly
Lonely Black Heron recognizes the path-
In its ‘wag-wag’ sounds-
The silence of the night gets broken.

Submerged in the instrumental noise-
Fleeing life in the frown of words
The fish market licks and eats 
The Soul of Silence- 
The subconscious mind is overwhelmed
On the wall of the monotonous scene
Yet there is a lonely Sirius soul-
Meditating –
In the unseen colorful world.
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