Alleys of Time

Yesterday, I was walking through the alleys in Calcutta .
The journey from my home to college with its endless possibilities and challenges is like a cloud.
At times it floats upon a gentle bay,
Showering the hues of life and light of yesterday’s and tomorrow’s blooms
On today’s cherishing bows in a springtime noon.
At times it becomes a reality of experience
To make us believe in hope and in abundance
To learn the glory of time and of fate.


It often takes a decade for some to identify the colours
It tends to grow into a light of hope in the hands of my mother.
The unknown floats like fallen leaves
Just to be born again after unspoken grieves.


They are recognised as soon as our mothers embrace us in their arms.
They are welcomed by the sky full of stars
To turn the trembling heart into a precious and living soul
To rewind the edge of the globe and walk through the alleys of time bringing peace with hope.


In visions of my beloved moon and truthfulness of my Sun
I learnt the magic of my petals
The ways in which a lovely beam assisted us to bloom,
Casting its abiding goodness upon the world.


Though, we travel far enough to witness a beautiful land.
A land where hope and grace lives along with butterflies and fairies.
A land where I believe to bask in the sunlight, just like my butterflies.
To make this breathing and flying with colourful wings
A journey to a landscape
Living and revolving around my heartiest spring.


The question of travelling by distance is soon drawn upon the sight of reaching my epiphanies.
Essences of dew with the smell of earth in its glory and grace
Singing the triumph of daffodils swaying beside the sheltering caves.


The lyrical composition of sea waves
Reverberates over the surface of the seashore
Leaving the signs of survival
As the holy land of Nature unfolds.


Days, where we find a reason and a blessing.
Days, where we are comforted and consoled by the season.
Days, where living counts the memories of reminiscing years.
Days, where manifestation dwells in efforts and prayers.


The Red Thread of Fate still searches for its half
Looking through innumerable alleys
The unforgettable path.
Remembering the ways in which I stood
Whispering about the lost time of fleeting days are soon flashed before my present
Like a butterfly speaking to a blossom along with the music playing on a flute.


Colours, I must say are bright and blue with a tint of azure.
I watch the sky with all its seasons
Beginning from the sunrise to the sunset.
I, often wonder what it would have been
To begin with the spring
And to be a season of spring for myself.
What it would have been to be like the autumnal rain
Falling on the Cypress and willows
And fleeing towards the palms and river valleys.


The lives that are moulded by my mentors
Gazes at the possibilities of hope.
This is what I’ve learnt by walking through the alleys,
travelling from home to my college
That each and every soul is a precious divine whole,
That each one of us is capable of being a spring to ourselves and to the world we worship and breathe in.
That divinity is a human soul living with its kindness and love
That guides with all its happiness
To make us see through the alleys of time
That goodness still remains as a truthfulness of joy
With clouds and stars living purely in skies.