Tag Archives: compassion


Her pique was caged in her prominence and his in her pride, for he was in love with everything that defined her.

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

The Hidden Lazaret

He hid his soul in a lazaret,
Stashed away from anyone’s reach,
And waited for that one person,
Who could dare to find him and breach.

He was a lone ranger,
Often remained in solitude,
He was never social and he seldom spoke,
People thought he had issues with his attitude.

And like a nomad,
He traveled from place to place,
Often restless and fidget,
Searching his serene space.

In that never ending quandary,
Few decades gradually passed by,
And he finally realize,
Soul couldn’t be hidden away,
Nor can be caged and set aside.

Calmness then found him,
And he was at ease,
He no longer wasted time,
Trying to find the one,
That could give him peace.

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

Like Vibrant Reef

When you decide to rush into my life,
You never ever brace my soul,
rattling my dormant bee-hive.

And when you sometime caress my lips,
In that moment you take away,
Each one of my disbelief.

And then one day you resolve to swiftly vanish,
And with you,
You take away the love that I naively brandish.

And now that you are gone,
I don’t know why?
I feel I still dwell,
In some enchanting dream,
Far away from this world,
In a turquoise lit vibrant reef.

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

Hope beyond Pillage

I often wondered,
After every devastating calamity,
When the tragedy appeared fresh in memory.

And when there was chaos in every scene, Aghast people crippled and appalling,
When grief and mourning clouded ever talk,
And the society came to a grinding halt.

In such adverse times,
How could some cruel mob,
Could have such diabolical plan,
To pillage the community,
And rob such wrecked clan,
The souls who had,
Lost their hope,
How could someone,
Snap their residual dangled rope.
Then you think humanity,
Had found a new low,
And brand it sadly,
As yet another tragic show.

And when all hopes had gone,
To your pleasant surprise,
You see the rise of a new dawn,
The hand had joined together,
To fight the pain,
And souls bonding together,
To ease the bane.

And I wonder again this time with bliss,
There are more good souls,
Than the ones who are evil.

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

Aficionado’s Love

She claimed to be an aficionado of life,
Had tall tales for every occasion,
Stealing every show,
Was what she always strived.

The crowd followed her,
Wherever she went,
Her popularity rouse,
And her vogue gradually ascent.

But there was one soul,
Who was different from all,
For he believed in her pneuma,
Than all materialist gloss.

He was the closest,
From everyone that surrounded her,
But he was hardly boisterous,
Despite of his advantageous spur.

She knew what he could do for her,
But the worldly sins allured her,
Swaying her,
To some dark side of life.

Soon the time passed by,
So was her fan’s craze,
And in matter of time,
She was lost in a maze.

She tried hard,
Gave it a last push,
But it was a downward spiral,
And she fell deep into an abysmal prickly bush.

Lost when she looked back for once,
She found her lost love,
Standing with a flowery valance,
The one she had denounced,
Was still there for her,
For he was in love with her soul,
Unlike the others who just follow a mere role

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

The Regatta Race

The sails were adjusted,
The rudders were checked,
The yachts were cleaned,
The mast was steered.

The rowers lined up,
Their faces laced with grins,
Dressed in colorful spandex,
The race was about to begin.

And then the horn was blown,
The boats sailed in seam,
The scullers went ahead with pace,
Consonance of oars were at extreme.

Such was the elegance,
The regatta race brought,
Spectators came in abundance,
In stripped blazers, dresses and polka shorts.

The race taught me a great deal,
Many lessons I had accrue,
Discipline, grace and grit to win,
Are just to mention a few.

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah


The tremors of the torrent rain,
bellowing wind with a constant bane,
Escalating pain forming monstrous trolls,
broken dreams and restless souls.

Nature’s caper, ironic and cruel,
life in despair, a dubious world.

The homes built with affection and warmth,
All shattered and disarrayed,
The family raised embraced in love,
tossed in some transient deluge.

The aftermath of disaster so dreadful to watch,
Nurtured dreams slouched and crushed.

But then in the darkness, you see a shimmering light,
A hope taking a flight like a restless lark,
You see hands bonding with trust,
Picking scattered pieces, rebuilding dreams from dust.

People coming from all spheres of life,
Breaking shackles of language, religion, creed or cast.

Though unspoken,
Their grit said it all,
They thrive to uplift humanity,
fighting every passing squall

When compassion drives any societal reform,
the human race can withstand any passing storm.

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah