A poem should be soundless as the flight of birds...A poem should be equal to not true....A poem should not mean but be.


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Wind, wind, wind
Don’t blow me to a distant land
‘Cause I know not people over there
That I may be alone amidst the crowd
Though I want to feel the nature there
Wind, dearest wind, just don’t go away
Leaving me there
Being on this unknown land
Learning all the little truths
Knowing and understanding their way of living
Has given me courage to face the truth
That wind dear wind with your grace
I’ve learned to face, the very truth
Though I know bitter is the absolute truth.


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Dinita Rai
J P Sharma Road