Taranga Mukherjee   (The rebel wave)
19 Followers · 8 Following

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Joined 16 November 2017


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Joined 16 November 2017
8 MAY 2023 AT 23:45

She hides her face amidst the cloud coloured veil and I hear her words after thousand lightyears ...

In a distant city she shines with the light of the universe...the city where spring never fades..

And her ocean carries the amazement of long lost teenage soul...



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26 DEC 2020 AT 23:48

I would stay with you , as long as the blue sky of your unending autumn, rains the droplets of monsoon in the rooftop of forever winter where summer fades amidst the wind of unputdownable spring...

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15 FEB 2020 AT 22:02

In the verge of winter , she looked like an unputdownable spring...
Beneath the lilac sky , she kissed the fading red of his lips..

And from a distance of light years the stars sighed in unison...

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21 OCT 2019 AT 20:33

Autumn ends ,with a beautiful pathos written in the northern sky..
The hairy girl paints the winter and I make her hair untie..

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8 JUL 2019 AT 1:36

You are like a city..
Where I would never visit..
Nor I would exile
...

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29 JUN 2019 AT 9:33

She is beautifully coloured like a day of snow...
She paints a day with the fragrance of winter.

In the unending roads I have heard her silence..

She is afar like andromeda, yet she sends her light..

And I write her melancholy in a gray page of rains..

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21 JUN 2019 AT 0:28

When all prefer to get a sun tan...I prefer to get drenched in a moon shine day!

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18 APR 2019 AT 22:00

If I write a melancholy afternoon..
you will be the droplets of word ..
Beautifully scattered in a beautiful city....

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5 APR 2019 AT 1:04

In her smile ,I smelled an unseen ocean...
She was serene as a lone mountain monastery ..
Her copper skin was carrying the hue of twilight dusk..

The city is like a mirror maze, where the magician roams with the magic wand and lights up the stars one by one..




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14 FEB 2019 AT 14:34

In the days of her winter, I have seen unknown faces in the melancholy mirror .
As the shadows of the flute grew longer ,the more she hesitated in front of the closed door..
Inside her hazel I have seen fading sunshine, fading smell of springs..
In the dead of the night she plays with her broken words.
I have no one to tell about her..

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