03/01/2026
Once, we too had—
a few light-soaked moments,
the gentle touch of love.
Today, at the mercy of time’s cruelty,
they lie strung across the pages of memory
like dried garlands—
touch them, and thorns pierce the skin.
Wherever they may be,
in whosever arms they find shelter—
may they be well.
© Aloka Chakraborty — All Rights Reserved
