Skip to main content

Sankhajit Bhattacharjee Poem 53

Scientific Research Fellow in University of Wisconsin, Milwaukee


Rose has thorns-

she is beautiful

but the thorns are signs of her sorrow.

When rose blooms in my heart,

it is elated but when her thorns get stuck in it,

it weeps due to pain.

An eternal creation of Emperor Shahjahan

proclaims his immortality from outside

but Mumtaz still weeps inside her grave.

Among many wives and mistresses,

he loved only one lady- his own immortality,

the fire of which burned him so much-

he wanted to build another black one

from the tax of famine-stricken farmers.

So, his son, Aurangzeb imprisoned him.

The golden pages of history

were written in blood-red ink-

pelf, power and position became so important here:

they overrode love and democracy.

Though the rose conquered my heart,

its thorns still pierce me off and on.

© 2020 Sankhajit Bhattacharjee