About Me

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Kolkata, West Bengal, India
The Wounded Healer...

Tears Depart….

No one, no one hears,
The softly creeping tears.
Yes, they are creeping,
Quite invisible to all;
Or may be they are hiding,
To escape a certain call.
The call that reminds her,
That none can she call her own,
All she does is hide her face,

And cry and cry, all alone.

Time heals her, gifts her,
A gift that makes her relive.
She does relive, she does grow up,
To an extent she never thought of.
But she is happy the way she is,
As happy as a caged dove…..

She renews her mind also her heart,
Renewing herself part by part.
She starts another journey, happy and gay,
Discovering secrets of life on her way,
Meeting with troubles and wiping them away,
As easily as an Angel may.
She forgets her cage her very confinement,
She finds fulfillment in sorrow even,
She cherishes her life saying—
It’s a bliss that God has given.

As days pass by, life goes on,
And she keeps moving on;
Till one fine day she realizes,
That all her tears are gone.
She is so confident now,
And has become a stone somehow.

Today she stands realizing this,
And longing for some pain.
She wants something, someone to hurt her,
And return her tears again.
She desires to fall in love, yet again,
Have someone to cry for; let some tears out.

But nothing that hurts seems to hurt her,

Nothing painful causes her pain,
No sorrow touches her...
Except one—
The tears depart...
The dry eyes wander here and there,
Searching for some pain unknown,
But all she still does is hide her face,
And cry and cry and cry, all alone…..

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