About The Author
Sanjuktadas
Born and educated in India, she migrated to Canada in her forties and is now an author based in Toronto, Canada. Right from her childhood, Sanjukta was always inspired by the Arts. In the tumult of her busy career as a placement advisor, where she is in constant interaction with students, poetry emerged to her as an inviting and consoling outlet with a unique power to let go and move on, connecting her to the calling of her life: writing.
Related Posts
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Author Sanjukta Das
Born and educated in India, Sanjukta migrated to Canada and is now an author based in Toronto.
2 weeks ago
My Cocoon Mind My mind was like the cocoon I once saw in my gardenHanging on a leaf.A cocoonYes!My mind was!Woven tightly with Threads of my own thoughtsFearsAnd imaginings.I spun those layers Around myself Believing they protect me They define me. But in truthThis cocoon confined meTrapping me in the Illusions I had created.Then came that moment of stillnessWhenThe flash of realization happened!“This cocoon is my own making.” With that understanding My heart smiledThe layers began to fall away. I felt the lightness Of butterfly wingsComing to lifeWithin me. I broke freeShedding the bindings Of my mindI roseTo openUnburdenedAnd limitless.The wings flutteredAnd colours dripped from them.I have now chosen the coloursTo define myselfTo emerge as the butterflyFluttering freely From one flower To the nextEmbracing The beauty and vibrance Of life With every wingbeat.Copyright © Sanjukta Das30th December, 2024
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2 weeks ago
The Quiet GiftAt least once in a lifetimeChristmas needs to come The way it did.With glittering lights That should warmCast shadows instead.The air this timeHummed with a laughter I am not a part ofAnd the spaces That once felt like I belonged Echoed with an absence.Perhaps it’s enough To smile at a memoryAt the sweetness of momentsThat felt real - once.Perhaps it’s fine To hear the silence in the carolsOnce played on the guitarThat stands in the cornerAnd smile back At the mirror reflection Of someone trying to belong.Perhaps it’s okay To wrap gifts for no oneAndTo set a place at the table Where no one will sit.Perhaps it’s not wrong To walk through Snow-draped streetsAnd imagine friends beside meWho forgot what it felt to walk The glittering streets aloneSmiling at strangersWhispering wishes Meant for othersThat come back unanswered.It’s not a coincidenceTo step into a crowded cafeAnd hear that song playing“Last Christmas I gave you my heart’As if it’s for meI smileWhile sipping coffee alone.For onceThe glow of lightsThe rustle of wrapping paperFelt as distant as the peopleI once thought were my own.In my loneliness I drink the second glass Of my homemadeSpiced mulled wine Made for noone else this yearAnd I wonderIf the warmth is enough.But despite it allI smile and askIs it okay to feel this ache?To long for inclusion in a world That moves without me?Perhaps it is.Perhaps At least once in a lifetimeEven loneliness is a gift We need to unwrap.Copyright © Sanjukta Das27th December, 2024
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Recent Posts
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