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This space will be dedicated to exploring the realms of music, songs, literature, and poetry, accompanied by carefully crafted translations of Bangla poetic works and lyrical compositions that resonate deeply with me.

Journeying Love: Part 4

3 min readNov 10, 2025

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Sunk in Tiny Love

Sunk is my Atman
In tiny love.
Pound It harder,
Deeper It sinks.
Caress It with
Tiny affection,
Deeper It sinks even so.
Starve It
Of your glances,
Deeper It sinks even so.
Whisper a curse into Its core,
Deeper It sinks even so.
Dump your leftover Atman in there,
Deeper It sinks verily.

4:26 pm
20 October 2018

Fate’s Canvas

The faith gets tinier,
And the silences grow taller.
Listless afternoons dig deeper
Beneath my dark soil.
The halved Moon clings to her cold solace —
The ever infinite distance
And the rhythmic intervention of time.
This twilight will sport its virgin nudity —
The glow from my hut set on fire
Will treat her seeking eyes,
The warmth for her frozen Atman,
The tiny dying light before she rises
With her soft, core-unfettering shine.
The vacuous laughter of the night
Fumbling with its own sleep
Will fall as tiny droplets
Into my white eyes.
And faith will sparkle remote
Amid stars of silent dreams.

1:11 pm
22 October 2018

Regaining Blueness

Tiny love dissolves
In a bleached Atman.
The Atman regains
Its blueness.

1:17 pm
22 October 2018

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No Verses Tonight

No verses tonight.
How can numerous convulsing bodies
Compensate for an absent Atman?
Who can fill my void?
The void aches awfully.
Who will remove it?
The halved Moon
Laughs at the myriad
Warps my eyes float.
She blinked at
The troubled waters
Of infinite words.
Don’t ask me
How shoreless vacuum is born,
Why mirages rained in
My barren eyes,
How pristine love
Keeps a corpse alive.

1:06 am
3 November 2018

The Moon’s Feat

The Moon rose in the darkness
Of my heart
Out of the mists
Of disembodied hopes
And bare desires.
The Moon with a rainy heart,
Stony, cold eyes
And a deathly white face
Left smears of infinity
On my tiny Atman
And deluged me
With her exotic beams.
And all I wanted was
A tiny drop of the milk of faith.

12:09 am
23 November 2019

A Dead Man’s Plea

Too many blows have landed on me,
Too many wounds adorn my inside.
I missed sensing when I died.
The night’s breeze ripping through my Atman
Mocks at my infinite resilience — 
Or, a silly sham of it;
The halved Moon, in peace with emptiness,
Bathes me in her merciful beams,
The mists fall dead on a parched skin.
Will someone let me know when I died?
What harm in laughing at this corpse
When it strides amidst the sensible?
Let me feel that I am dead.
Surely, no pain will ever ascend;
What womb will make it?
Ridicule this show of audacity,
Have me convinced that I am dead.
No proper rites do I seek;
Just have me convinced that I am dead.

12:31 am
3 October 2020

A Wish to Stain You

Will you allow me to write you?
— Adorn you with the wizardry of words,
Pare off your inhibitions,
Sculpt blooms out of your earthly grace,
Kiss your core with the strokes of my pen,
Stain your marrow with my ink.

12:05 pm
15 July 2023

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Dr. Beelay Raha
Dr. Beelay Raha

Written by Dr. Beelay Raha

Reader of Bonds | Webfront Wordsmith | Music Aficionado | Beholden to Dharma (Rama-Krishna) alone | स्वधर्मे निधनं श्रेयः

Upstream
Upstream

Published in Upstream

This space will be dedicated to exploring the realms of music, songs, literature, and poetry, accompanied by carefully crafted translations of Bangla poetic works and lyrical compositions that resonate deeply with me.