Bhaskar Roy Barman

He knew for sure he was going to succumb

To the eminence grise of an alien thoudea he dreaded;

Alien to him was its import, though he felt

Its mumming effect in the fibre of his being.

The truth to tell, the unsavoured taste of the thoudea

Masterminded his musings over its effect

And made him feel as if he were a human floweret sicklied

By the leafaged shade of his dread and fenced in.

The thoudea was mercilessly breezing in on him.

He knew not where to flee from its onslaughts.

Lympathic pallor reigned supreme on his face,

As he readied himself to face up to the inevitable.

Two years later all leading newspapers flashed the news

He was selected for a literary award.

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