Kausik Ananda Bahubalindra writes

RED INK LETTER

No  Sms, no E-mail, no Chat.

Why?

A letter I do prefer to write you

As in pocket close to your heart

With a rose - fresh, deep red, fragrant

You keep it while awake

Awake till 10 p.m.

And under white pillow as asleep

Asleep till 6 a.m.

Also my letter you smell at will

Long live the smell

And you smell with a smile

Smile that never fades away .

It’s a letter

Letter written in red ink

the colour of my love that shows

And the red ink of my pen 

Even if thousands of letters I write 

With this pen carefully kept aside

Only to write for you,

Would never run out as prepared

In the laboratory of my heart,

As endless is my love for you -

Endless, dauntless, priceless.

It’s a letter - a letter hand written

Not beautiful as yours though

But the softness of my fingers

You sense as you touch the words

And the words you read bit by bit

As under a tree each day you sit.

Not enough are the words to express

Yet extreme love at my heart

I deposit for you forever.

While writing the letter, I fall asleep

Asleep for some time

And surely see you in dream

A dream of you too writing to me .

My ear-rings dangle, my bangles clatter

And I wake up as also my hair

The breeze sent by you, does flutter.

Everytime I kiss my pen as your name

I write time and again by the pen -

Your gift so precious to me

And in the light of lamp looks shining

Your name like the stars out of reach

That twinkle high in the night sky.

Thinking, thinking for hours,

What do I write to you?

Should it be a love letter -

In poetry or prose form?

Or my other feelings do I share? 

As my entity you cover in entirety .

Or a letter filled with your name only ?

A name - sweet, smart and nice to utter.

Or you are what to me?

Love is not to like but to share

To share your everything I’m ready

Do you too?

No speed post, no courier, by a white pigeon

That flies to the sky of your region

Where on the bank of a river, you live alone,

I send my letter sprayed with french odour

And water, food, shelter for rest

You give to my messenger - a witness

Witness to our love as pure as its white wings.

Maybe the reply delayed

But I wait for ages till you reply

As I firmly believe, you are mine,

That I’m yours, I strongly believe

As always, we are born and made for,

Promised and addicted to each other.

Our letters make the ground

The ground - wide, plain, fertile,

For our meeting, long awaited

As confirmed and confident we are

In our love 100 percent.