2024 October Bengali Association of Greater Chicago (BAGC)
https://online.fliphtml5.com/jvxym/akza/#p=90
2024 September A Meditation on Rakhal Raja
https://issuu.com/anandamandir/docs/anandalipi_2024/114
2024 October Distilled Waters Anthology Issue D7,
two poems published:
O, the divine – the
feminine within me,
abide in my consciousness like a river,
dancing into every
nook within its banks.
Let me possess your perfection and power
to perform work.
Teach me with your infinite
patience to absorb wisdom, making me richer,
my eyes discerning,
hands deft, and my mind
reflecting your acuity. Abide in my desire
to forgive
sincerely as giant trees in a forest
send roots down seeking nourishing water.
Sway my soul softly
in the gentle breeze
of empathy and compassion like the quiver
in the heart of a
lover. As
I take every
breath of life, let a serenity inspire,
saturating my
precious consciousness
like gravity. Let
me remain aware – forever.
Monsoon Comes to Broken Hills
Under the shadows of Aravalli hills,
jagged and Precambrian, the girl lay still
on her primitive cot, embracing insomnia.
On the cloudless night sky, the moon,
waxing and lusterless, hides its face
behind the eroded hills to the east.
Down in the valley, the bonfire honoring
Summer Solstice, smears crimson color
on fields of chickpeas and scrub brushes
By the lake, three funeral pyres are burning
with a vengeance. The crematory goddess
Kali,
with a painted-on surprised look, keeps watch.
Rising tongues of bonfire stab the girl’s
heart.
The girl wishes to soar with those sparks
and fall to nothingness on dry sand.
She waits for the ancient lover, deemed
ineligible once, to join in her fitful dream
inside the cocoon of the scent of petrichor.
Songs of monsoon love and longings float
upward from the valley. Now, the broken
hills
of Aravalli will gather rain from the arid
air.
