A tumultous storm is passing the valley
and I am stuck in the midst
nowhere to hide and nowhere to go.
I try to walk towards home with my rainbow coloured umbrella.
My abode on the hill nearby,
and an uphill task to go,
the gale is growing stronger
i just can't slow.
The heaven has been unfriendly
not answering to my prayers
I slipped a million times as He wanted me to scare.
The strong roots of the trees have held my hand firmly
not gushing me down
as a true friend in poverty.
The rain spoilt my umbrella, the seven colours faded
I faced the heavy drops as my parasol betrayed.
Toiling to crawl up
the rain was failing to stop me from going upstream,
the nimbus this time is ghastly than ever
but i will have to return to my dear ones
albeit bruised from head to toe,
none to hear my scream .
Both rain and me are bleary and had to pause now,
the firmament is clearing up with the sun, peeping through the clouds
and I am nearly near my hilltop house.
The sky was happy to see me alive and
gifted me my rainbow umbrella as return gift from above,
I tasted glory in the rainbow from the hilltop
and my abode.


Bina Mukherjee

When it snows,
the airy white petals falls on the alps
and rests.
The mountains wear the white cloak with pride,
as the gift from the high above
and I enjoy the majestic morning view of the creator from my humble abode.

Bina Mukherjee

I am yet to write a poem which
shall strike a thousand
or a million chords!
It may be a love or a sad one.
But it will certainly be a ******,
which has been touched by none.
The words will be in the purest form
and will remain in hearts, long after I am gone.
Bina Mukherjee

Sky loves the earth so much
So they desire to meet on the horizon.

When he wants to touch her, it rains heavily.

A quarantined soul stuck in her abode,
longing to travel a country mile.
Walking through the known lanes,
those stilt houses and hilly paths
till the gate of my home,
where my parents live.
I can see them virtually
but that doesn't satisfy my heart!
I miss my mom's smile
I miss my dad's humour
I miss the sibling gossip while slurping the soupy Maggi bowl.
Yes this quarantined soul has become a wanderlust
Just to visit my home once!!

Bina Mukherjee

To my teacher Mom
To my savior Mom
To my kind Mom
To my trouble shooter Mom
To my simple Mom
To my generous Mom
Wish I were like you Mom!!

To the Mom who has been judged for living a simple life.
To the Mom who never tried to hurt anyone because she knew how it feels like.

To the Mom who thinks herself to be a superwoman and filled our plates with almost all the food from the dishes she had,
Keeping a little, what she called a balanced diet.

To the Mom who has the innate ability to filter out the demeaning words and rather enjoyed what she cherishes.

To the Mom who still believes "Silence is Golden"
And did her job religiously with love whatever be the condition.

But....
I couldn't be like you Mom and been a little outspoken as I have seen your helplessness for long....
And now.....
.......
I wish you were a bit like me Mom!!


Bina Mukherjee