Sipra's Diary. .Poem: "Spirit in language " // ("Verve in language")

Whenever I turn  pages of    my old copies or even loose piece of papers  while cleaning  my bookshelf,  I find  out lots of my verses lay  scattered,  neglected  like orphans.  I  adopt some of them ,  which were  once rejected . Number of such poems have grown  huge . Some are really good but so esoteric that  I doubt  them as my own creation and ask  myself," is it  truly "I" from whose pen the verses came flowing?
  However, I  have decided to take a project for the coming 2018  to collect   best  20/ 30's  pieces of my choice together under the title  of "Posthumous"  hoping for future publication ...and.... hmm....... dedicated to Dead Poets' Society !             


                                Spirit- in-Silence :Sipra Roy

            In Language,

            What can be more eloquent  than  silence?

            However delicate or complicated, 

             still-----

            Language seems merely  

            designed apparel for feeling!

            More the feeling goes profound,

           More the speech looses its sound

           become  Super-sensitive but dumb!

            Like the primitive one of by-gone-days.

            Love,hate,jealousy or fear

           All suppressed, hidden, unspoken words

           Reflect  messages either in  eyes

           Or in body gesture

           As the innocent animals do!

          In  the vessel of language

          Nothing is more eloquent  

          Than  the spirit- in -Silence!

          

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Words=                      //lines >

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Sipra's Diary: Poem- ::-solitude

In my schooldays as teenager I became popular as  writing  parody. Theme of  parody centered mostly around teachers or school-related events. In tiffin hours Our small team of 4 students used to sit in lonely  corner of the compound  and read our poetry one by one. When it was my turn  each of us could not but rolled in laughing on the ground so much  that It was hard to finish the poem.Specially, those which were read imitating the rhythm and tune of the epic"RAMAYANA" From the first period we waited for this excited entertainment. Some curious  girls observed us suspiciously. Perhaps  someone among them   reported to the principal  because we did not allow any other to join in our team.We were called by the principal and were asked the cause of   avoiding others and laughing .WE stood speechless with heads down  to the ground. The principal looked  a little puzzled. Because we were the best in all respects throughout  our school record.She could not match the complain with us. With vigil look  she scanned us  for a while and  then from her  perplexed face  and nasal  voice a  sound came out  in frustation, "GO"!

We stepped out gently from the office but as we reach away from the office near to the classroom, we burst into laughter again with our palms shutting the mouth but checked before the shocked look of our classmates who huddled in front of the door of the classroom. Thus the 'Era" of parody in school life ended.
            In my young age, I had an impression that the theme of the poem should be always something noble, deep and serious. The frivolity of writing parody at teenage was brushed aside to focus on, somewhat, 'made-up' seriousness. I had a series of poems on 'silence".  At that time I wrote them in my native language.
In 2013, I translated   two out of them   into English:

                             Solitude
Oh Solitude!let me be your shadow, or
Shelter me in you,
So that I can cherish-
 My  silence, gazing on
My own piece of sky
Captive  through my window-glass 
Like a picture-in-frame;
And pausing to undefined melancholy
That has no reason! 
Or,
In my own fleeting moods
Nurturing my budding dreams,
Concealed carefully from others;
To smell and to harp on
All that I love to treasure.

If my dream is shattered
By sudden storm of noises
Amidst the calmness of the ocean,
Oh, solitude!
Please be my Light House
To anchor me in your safe island!
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