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Chaitali Sengupta


Eindhoven, Netherlands

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When you won't be here


Chaitali Sengupta

Dim, dim, the twilight shall fade,
Slow, very slow, dusk will settle.
Each birth shall have an end,
If this is life, why should we lament?

Happiness or bliss, neither stays too long,
Each fade out, like an abrupt song.
Disappears, like mist and becomes our past,
This is life then, whom no mortal can outlast.

If this is our Fate, why cry in vain?
Why wonder the reason of why, time and again?
Why cushion pride, why struggle for fame?
Why always ask destiny to take the blame?

Why not, instead, rise, shine and care?
Thinking of the time when you won't be here?



Chaitali Sengupta

Under the embowering shade
of an ancient wood ahead,
I sat with raptured eye,
to see the sun, parting in the sky.

The azure sky wears a veil
of liquid topaz, casting a spell,
that is broken by the gushing spring-
sweet and clear, busy in rejoicing.

Sublime twilight spreads on towers,
over the nests and sleepy flowers.
Soon the crowd too shall return home,
but who will come through this waiting dome?

None, I find, as the silence roll.
Another day wasted, says my soul.
I look around with tears wet,
and realise the sun has finally set.

The shadows of the white


Chaitali Sengupta

Was it the Divine intent,
that we live in a world of
hunger and pain?
Where races clash and religions ignite,
a horrible war between
black and white?

If this has been His design,
why on a black branch, does
white flower shine?
Why doesn't dark clouds
pour forth black rains?
Can you possibly that explain?
Why does the silvery moon rise high,
only on a inky black sky?

Had this been His design,
chidren would have been born
carrying hatred and scorn.
But Heaven's song has always been,
that you judge the man, not his skin.
So ask yourself again and think back-
the shadows of the white,
aren't they black?