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Break the Shell: Poetry

Break the Shell: Poetry

Sentinel Digital Desk

Break the Shell

Swapnajyoti Bordoloi

Let the monsoon rain,

Become you.

Hatred is akin to dust allergy.

New seeds,

Forget not to grow them inside.

Water them with your smiles

And tears,equally.

Sing and dance, alike.

Like a drunken balladeer.

Be it sunshine or pain,

Whenever you feel like.

Andyou will begin to sense

The whole world humming with you!


That souls never race,

All else,

It's your own Karma's face!

And so

Just move on?



Buddhadev Nandi

It is a pitch dark night

That allows my soul

To leave the body

Transcending from the world

Of mundanity towards eternity.

The avenuesare dark

When the departed soul

Disembarks towards

The uncharted sea,

Urging to meet Him

For eternal company.

Leaving the material world,

To be illuminated by the light of illusion

For a transient moment.

Abysmal darkness

That bridges birth and death

Except a brief phase

Of sojourn illuminated

By the light of the earth

That draws a vague line

Between the two vast darkness,

Beyond time and space,

Only to be plunged

Into an all-pervading darkness,

Of a black hole.

From where the light

Of the earth emanates

Out of lightlessness.



Buddhadev Nandi

When the sky is overcast,

With the dark clouds rumbling,

And the jingling feet of rain,

Like a little girl dancing,

Passingover the fields

To dye them withcolours of lush green.

It is the beautiful monsoon

That has been appearing.

The trees nod their heads,

Touched by the pattering drops

The paddy fields become hopeful

To yield bumper crops.

The soil being leavened

With the monsoon rain

Becomes fertile enough

Promising a good harvest again.

A cart drawn by bullocks

Hobbles on the road with pain

The tune sung by the carter

Gets lostin the noise of the pattering rain.

Little children in heavy shower

Prancing in unwanted joy

Sail their paper boats

In the river, crying ahoy.

The birds under the trees

Wet with the drops of the rain trickling

Enjoy the song of the rain

With their eyes closing.

The obese frogs swelling their throats,

In the brimming ponds

Fill the nights with croaking sounds,

Expecting from their darlings' a sweet response.

The rivers are waking up from their slumber

Fed by the monsoon shower.

As they prepare themselves

To regain their lost power.

Everywhere, there is merrymaking

For in the door, Princess Monsoon is knocking.


More Distant Than a Dream

Arunav Barua

Even dreams have a nearness in them,

Every fear that a nightmare evokes

Is felt in real terms by an unaware mind,

The heart refuses to believe otherwise

For what we see is what we believe...

It would be difficult to interpret mirages

Those clouds we saw were as real as time,

For none yet has understood its nature

Moments ago, we dreamt we were in school

Now the school bell refuses to ring,

For mornings now don't mean a uniform

So was every day in school a dream?

Was this lived experience a mere facade?

Reality often is more distant than a dream...

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