Antimoni Dutta Biography

The misty whistle turns to abut on my turbid hands
Swimming up in the whinning web settles down somewhere in solitary port of longings.
Had I got the moment once for all
Amidst those watertight talks
...

Day grows and withers away
In the moonlit hands
evening's fragrance walks on the hazy canvas
...

From the east to the west, north to the south or above all, I travel
Everything is living in me and I live in the worth of their living soul.
I understand everything and see everything,
In a sudden journey, if I breathe myself through the Lung to my blood
...

Breathing the soil
I am standing amidst the cripples' land

Being naked before the silver fields
...