Mandarmoni sea beach is broad
Travellers using it as road
With foot marks and wheel marks all over
The beach is full of shells big and small.
No one is there to collect
Only the sea shell shops
Waiting for some visitors to buy!
But everyone saying them "Hi!"
And telling "Goodbye!"
The green coconut sellers have some buyers
Couples having them in share
Walking with the coconut in cool air!
Some trees have thin long leaves
Some trees have protruding roots!
Some roots are wiry, some curled
There are a lot of bushes
But nowhere you find a snake
Your mind may be awake in fear
In the sea, the water was crystal clear!
The mud and sand mixture is the geology of the soil
Hardly there is any rain to foil!
Being birds of fair weather many visitors come and go!
They come as tired patients
Go to their homeland really fresh!
The gentle breeze of Mandarmoni
Will light up your senses
Just as the fluroscent lamps
Light up the shops and our guest house.
Our house is far way in Kolkata
But mobile phones draw the dear ones
Bridging the gap of hundreds of kilometers
Just as the Orkut and Myspace
Filling up the space between 2 friends
Their identities may be true or fake
But their bond is true!
Sailing on the sea
Many people discover new lands
Sailing on the World Wide Web
Many people establish new contacts
Some contacts are temporary, some permanent.
Some become fossilized and permanent in our memories
Some shortlived and easily get deleted along time!
Memory, as I see, is a virtual book
Just like computer with RAM and ROM
Memory can be increased with technique
Memory of Mandarmoni cannot be forgotten.
Due to the cool, blue, calm sea
Due to my father, holding his hand I traveled like a small boy
Along the beach where Kingfishers flying high!
I relax in the beach with sweet memories
Sitting under the umbrella lit by fluorescent lamp.
Probably I am waiting for a mermaid
She will arise from the sea
I will tell her this poetry
With a smile she will bless me
She understands how much I love the sea.
She has seen me in Bakkhali, Digha, Puri and nowhere.
But in this resort of four-and-half bigha
I am like a kind with my father as my minister.
My court musician is Rohit
Whose songs bringing smile in everyone's face.
There is a large garden with pink hibiscus
With flowers of all color
I feel I am a butterfly
Hovering here in the right hour
But this butterfly will fly on November
Feeling absolutely fine.
This butterfly will fly to his own garden.
Where his parents are his guardian
Telling him to read more books than internet.
This guy being a virtual worm
Turns himself into a bookworm
Reading from cover to cover
Of his favorite books.
The memories of Mandarmoni
Can never fade away
In photos and poems
Its getting etched in my mind like glass designs
With memories of garden, sea, resort
All frozen in my digital camera!