Poems

The first people to know you The ones who taught you to walk The people whom you can trust upon They love you since the time you were born They are angels sent from heaven Mine are special so are yours We all love them and call them our family   About the Poet : […]

Friends are worth more than diamonds They help me when I am frightened If I got stranded on an island, I would rather be with them Then be divided. Sometimes they may be annoying And might keep talking But without those chirping noises We wouldn’t be able to rejoice. So, I thank all those friends

Spring, the season of the flower, Spring, the season of pleasant weather, Celebrated by many a culture, Spring, a giver and a taker, Spring, the season of the peaceful, Loved by each person or the other, Spring, the centre of festivities, Spring, a giver of life, Spring, the season of life, Oh, about spring we

It’s Midnight, you are staring at the sky At 00:00 You are tired. You are excited It feels like giving up, It feels like running away into the peace of The night You shouldn’t give up fellow, For the midnight is exhausted and tired As you but, it have the dazzling stares as that Little

I lived and breathed poetry And endorsed all forms of it Except Miya. All human I considered brothers I cried at everyone’s pain Except that of Miya. I was above caste and creed I ate with everyone Except with Miya. My home was open for all Everyone was welcome But not Miya. I had friends

Assam, land of the mighty Brahmaputra, Where nature’s bounty flows in abundance, Tea gardens sprawling across the hills, And rainforests thriving with exuberance. The rhino roams free in Kaziranga, Elephants march through the lush green, The one-horned beauty is a wonder, And the mighty elephant, a sight to be seen. The Bihu dance is a

Something unforeseen Is frequently seen. The great luminous knocks at the door More often than ever before. A few broken clouds Wrestle in vain in the blue sky above. Like roasted beans in a box Fragility is nailed into coffins. Thrashing millions into disposition, Who ignites the stick in the great wilderness? Too deep the