Two roads crost in a point, beside the town
And think I much of home, standing alone
Little I queer about the sun down
But much to see how the roads atone.
I come to know how the police toil long
To protest all vehicles break through
I see, I see the roads go ahead, all among
In vain or late I moan although.
Much to see the time I glued to watch
And every minute I see pin at heart's core
It seems, none but moments I unmatch
In vain although the gloomy dress I wear.
Now I look into the vehicles come by
Yet every possible time all they sting
No the reason for cry, but a sigh
For, Kolkata and Darjeeling mingle here though.


[Published in his self-published book "Some Suitable Words", in January,2018]