Nirbhaya speaks

When your husband, brother and father

Leave you penniless out of infidelity

And courtship purposes: crosspurposes

The fidelity in you makes you fearless

Priceless; oh, what can I do my husband

Has a first wife today; but he, oh noble one

Whose maidservant I am: penniless and all

Because he sits on a desperate fortune

With his boss-girlfriend; courting every sister

Till me he met; today I say oh! Noble one

I have become so fearless with hardships

I have no desires left: should I be yours

Or should I be the world's. 

Your celibate maidservant

#doelsengupta

#abeera

#nirbhayaisstillalive

#bharatmataterikasam

#nodiamondsformepleasegivethemtoyourbossgirlfriend

#foreveryoureternalmaidservant

#frugalandinexpensivelikehubbyhathtold

#alltherichesforhernotme

#imtheobedientonehere

#inserviceofhumanityforalleternity

Golden eyes

They were wrangling

For the gold which

Is sold to deities, 

Heaven foretold. 

Their eyes were golden, 

Just their eyes; Now

Their eyes are soft

With love, hope and song

Goodness wins, it always does, 

Heaven forbids evil, 

And lets goodness win;

Goodness does in love, 

Hope, song and eternity. 

Holding the pack together

Your four walls and mine sixteen, 

Our twenty digits make forty;

If it comes crumbling down as a

Pack of cards, will it still be mine? 

Without doubt; Even as into space we fly, 

Hold them close, ok? Don't let go to get by. 

The formidable soup lady

This foolish lady has been

Calling the shots because she

Is so dandy, so Randy and all;

She knows not how to sing glories

Of her escapades under the golden sun;

Those days when she ruled the roost, 

We're her boost, were her boost;

May be now she is aching for soup

To oil her rope with great hope;

She will in two forget all the roost

For chickens cackle too and so do

Pigeons and bunnies, so when the plot

Is foiled this night in two she 

Screams: "I WANT MY BOOST! "

relative

Time is all we have, space is all we are and love is all that flows through us. 

#doelsengupta

The Virus

What is this yearning pain 

I carry under the lids, 

My eyes weary, teary, burning, 

Is there any other way

I could stay, the art of intelligence 

Is always free. 

giant saint

There was once a man, a giant saint;

He had no morals and was in a pithy state. 

His wife he hit, his children deplored, 

And to his worth he was always bored. 

His urchin mates he psychophanted, 

His bigger stake was annihilation. 

Today he is trapped with a grisly mate, 

No more saint, oh so faint!