The petal of your earlobe undisturbed by the locks ,
As of Eve, whose nightly charm was
Increased by stately Eden;
Soft air and the fortunate surface
Beneath you, are happy.
There your neck, half invisible, awaits a silent speaker on the skin.
No sound is heard, save a melody emerging from your mouth, unconscious, sweet as a summer bird's song.
God is pleased to see us, His children, exultant, without transgressing His laws.

           ---- Sarban Bhattacharya

Exhaustion brings forth emotional happiness,
Ephemeral drug-induced exhaustion gives time enough to recall what is lost
during the noisy turmoil of cobwebby mind.
Silent is the room, a round robust room,
safely peregrinated around by Ferdinand Magellan.
I imagine how impaccably resilient is the barrier – a bony barrier of body contains an intermittent ruction,
the turbulence of nothingness.
Then comes a thin cutaneous membrane all over the body, potent to conceal an absolute abyss.
Envy does not provide with comfort.
A spiffing news spreads faster than rumour. Here I sit, sleepy and carefree, to imbue my vein with your pleasure. The pleasure of the universe attacks and multiplies like a contagious disease; An opaque streak of burnt hope appears, disappears,
disappears and appears in the guise of pleasure, whom we craved.
It's nothing more than a deceptive premonition of healing.
Let him convalesce who is meek and naive. These be my final words before another fit of unknown trepidation begins.


– Sarban Bhattacharya