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By The Assam Tribune
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Sailing of Life

Another leaf has been expelled,

Either yellow or green,

Another feather from each bird,

Flying calmly to their nests,

Extinguished another candle,

To shorten the path of breath,

Still, loves fixing the knot here,

Enhancing some new quests.

Time sailing ahead confronting,

The waves of loss and gain,

If tears measure the height of joy and joy the depth of pain,

Life’s standards always ascending up,

With new chapters,

If some enhance the knowledge,

Some give lessons on cryptic explanations.

Sabina Alia,

Via e-mail.


Eerie and Wild

From now on; and forever,

The leaves of autumn; red, orange and crimson have turned grey;

Autumn is shrewd; you were the last fall;

Winter has snatched away my warmth;

Amidst the heap of worn clothes; your smell lingers on;

I sleep clad in your jacket for hours end;

An ignited soul; my guardian angel;

Who shall I read my poetry to?

I have called your name a million times;

All I could hear; a deafening echo;

The noisy silence is eerie and wild;

You were brave; you fought and fought;

You are a metaphor;

I framed a picture of you; the one you liked most;

My father smiling happily;

I talk to you every day; do you listen?

Where are you?

The candle is burning; the moon is shining;

The night is calmer now;

I feel like running to the cemetery!

Debapriya Baruah,

Via e-mail.


The Light I Touched

Do you feel the same

When the sun is so bright,

That you close your eyes

And, still, the brightness pierces

Through your eyelids;

Soft and warm,

Calm and powerful,

Lazy and energetic,

Like you touched the light

That touched you,

Like a mother to her newborn?

Do you feel

The same light,

I touched?

Kriti Chetri.



I like silence,

In silence, I find the sweetness of life;

In silence, latent talents have the opportunity

To develop;

Silence is like the

Background to a creation;

Where my heart and brain unites

And realises transcendence;

Preludes artful creation

In the prelude I write:

All people are equal;

No matter how big or small.

Heramba Nath,



Frozen Night Tales

My grail is astounding in the evening flakes

The setting sun, in Southern-West, still ablaze.

Yet, another day has passed on…

On its customary schedule of smothering!

In an attempt of the pinnacle, sometimes

Life and its sensation cry; without shedding a drop;

What an irony, just draught and dry.

Ah! Let me welcome the cold of the night,

Sauntering amidst the snowy woods

Gazing at that twinkling sky, and listening

To the stars, as they sing the songs of love,

And there my home awaits to hear

Some frozen night tales, for that hope!

Hope to walk an extra mile and then

Rest in the shelter; sit and talk

In the warmth of the mantelpiece,

Where the steam of a cup of tea

Is fondled in a long breath of peace.

Partha Pratim Goswami,


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