by March 5, 2021 0 comments

So long you thought you know the profundity of all that you have in your clutches.
The more you have pulled them the more you have distanced yourself. You are ransacking the roads and avenues to find everything empty. Yet you have never measured its depth. You haven’t pulled the hums and throbs out of the screen. You haven’t called her by the nickname. Flying the chariot you have never asked for transparent water in a transparent glass and the food for the grass. Like before you haven’t sought anything floating on pluta swara. You have considered precious all that you have seen and got. You have put all the horizon long hangover of success in your showcase, keeping the distance bound to you. You haven’t bound up any hour. Do you ever win seeking the ways for scented coins? Triumph is but an illusion. It buries its head just after kissing the moment.

– Utpal Chakraborty

editors note:

Tripping on the transitory; listen for the long voice instead. – mh clay

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