'A soul that bleeds ink instead of tears—
I write not just to express, but to echo the silences the world forgets to hear.
Rooted in nature, nurtured by emotion, I am a poet walking the fine line between reality and reverie.'
I asked for nothing but your voice,
A whisper, a word, just a gentle choice.
In your light, I stood so still,
Watching, waiting, with endless will.
...
Today, as crossing the heart of the Brahmaputra,
I saw more than water—
golden sunrays rippling on the surface,
like a dream I had once wandered.
...