This is your new blog post. Click here and start typing, or drag in elements from the top bar.My mind is helpless
Drawing out a desperate cry,
In the midst of the city night,
Where did you go, my only friend?
No letters to receive,
Only a mundane sigh!
Heart-break who shall say so,
Was I the one to blame?
You-reaching out for a higher ground,
To settle again in a heap of dust and bones
Feeling the cold touch of a dead man’s grave.
Sweating in the A.C Room,
Pangs of guilt or drops of fear?
No one has the answer,
Cause it’s the cold touch of a dead man’s grave.
Chants, curses and invocations,
Swirling in my mind,
My hand reaches out,
For a puff of the higher ground,
Only to feel a hand stopping me
The cold touch of my dead man’s grave.
Life after death,
Could it be true?
Not in my wildest dreams.
Till I felt the cold touch
Of a dead man’s grave.
12/20/2010

Although gifts are always welcome , it is not necessary to exchange gifts all the time.

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    36 years old married Virgo from Kolkata, working presently at Jaipur as a Sr. Copywriter with a leading Indian Ad Agency-Crayons;schooling from Don Bosco Park Circus and B.Com (Hons.)from St. Xavier’s Kolkta; also worked as VJ with ETV-Bangla for a show titled ‘Janata Express’ and as Radio Jockey (RJ) with TIMES FM. As regards my professional life I’m a award-winning copywriter& communication specialist.

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