What the world is so frustrated about?
The black or the white or the grey?
Why the old never meets the new?
The gap: never bridge.
Tomorrow will be the new day,
The sky, a brighter blue.
Tomorrow I set out to forget present;
A present, in the fate of few.
I need the past to write about
Chronicles they never knew.
I have no unusual talent to charm,
Or a voice to croon lyrical songs.
A silent laughter wakes me up,
From a slumber, uninterrupted, unfinished...
The poem is written by myself and Arundhati Chatterjee, my dearest cousin.