Bridges of Memory: A Collection of Poems

Author: Sandip Kumar Ghosh

Chapter 1: Lights of the World

Seoul’s Light

In Seoul’s glow,

What magic the Korean bands weave—

K-pop Jimin’s wisdom,

K-drama Yoona’s tenderness,

The warmth of ramen noodles in late-night chatter.

Glass-skin shines with Soyeon’s sparkle,

Pinterest spirals of noodles in play,

Unveiling the last scene of a Korean tragedy.

Three sisters—laughter and tears, diamonds and emeralds—

In the soft touch of solitude,

Korean “Hello,” serum’s glow, a body’s broken rhythm

Falls upon the spring soil.

Chapter 2: Nature and Memory

Returning to the Cuckoo’s Nest:

In the black hair of flying clouds,

A sudden smile’s enchantment,

The courtyard of the mind has crossed fifty,

Perhaps the shadow of sixty.

The first time I saw you—

Whispering forest, mist-covered lake,

A house of sorrow turned into quiet wealth,

Your eyes, silent treasures.

Ah, those hear pumping moments return—

Stories by the pond,

Rebooted in unconditional hands,

Where I stored countless dreams.

Gen Z Migratory Bird:

In the urge to exchange warmth,

Crossing hemispheres,

Covering winter’s stiffness,

Saiyara waits.

Does a sudden branch tremble

With spring’s message in autumn?

A red sea bathed in sunset,

Or only lungs full of black smoke?

In dawn’s promise, Saiyara searches again,

Symbol of existence’s endless journey.

Corridors of Memory:

An inner reflection:

Yet you build illusions in sound’s corridor,

Yet I awaken in the tune of the past.

Silent poems flow,

Toward the most beautiful image of creation.

The first time I saw you—

A house of sorrow turned into quiet wealth,

Whispers of forest, mist-covered lake.

Ah, those magical moments return—

Stories by the pond,

Dusty fields, bustling markets.

In the soft touch of the Renaissance,

Preparing to weave new memories.

Chapter 3: Society and Politics

Today, the Mountain’s Doubt

The farmer’s silence cradled in her lap,

Broken riverbanks in uproar,

Earth covers wounds with clay.

In America’s land of power,

Alaska’s cold grips two poles,

Secret consent on White House walls.

Oil and arms trade,

Rare earth, silent polarization,

Teeth clenched in restless times,

Deals move in diplomacy’s shadow.

Echoes of Chenab

In crimson skies, torn clouds,

History’s bloodline etched on land,

Sindhu’s sorrow,

Dreams burned in smoke and waves.

What remains after youth’s fire?

Is life only a game of possession?

Or a constant farewell?

Chenab’s silence speaks,

Echoes rise in the rider’s sigh,

Whispers of nightmares,

A new chapter flows with the stream.

Age of Revolt

Life spins like a wheel,

From carnival to rebellion,

Uncertainty spreads its wings,

Youth seeks freedom like a swan.

Autumn leaves fall with protest,

Plassey’s fields, looted arsenals,

Ancient language of resistance

Beats in the soul’s drum.

Golden dreams of youth,

Maa Durga’s drums resound—

My goddess rises,

Battle cry fills the air.

Kadambini of Kolkata

Mother’s golden daughter,

Covered in sorrow’s sky,

Where did you hide your face, Kadambini?

At midnight, seminar rooms,

Darkness prowls like beasts,

A lone woman,

A civic volunteer’s prey.

Hospitals, votes,

Masked faces of Frankenstein roam.

Blood and tears in monsoon rains,

News channels weave their nets.

My country drowns in endless sorrow.

Chapter 4: Spirituality and Philosophy

Cycle of Creation

Paths covered in mist,

White-robed angels touch the soul’s particles,

Swinging in dreams of joy and sorrow.

Lake of wisdom, rosary’s gift,

Silent ashrams purify the spirit,

Seeking light in the shadows of pain.

From fall to transcendence,

Five thousand years of the past return.

In the silence of eternity,

The soul’s purest transformation.

Creation’s cycle slows to an end—

The gentle breath of “The Light,”

A call from within,

The soul’s yearning to return to the Father’s lap.

Unreal Reality and Spring

AI algorithms bring back familiar masked faces,

Moments fading like fire in spring.

Selfies blur the line between real and fake,

Unknown viruses in the mind’s depth,

Everything is now within reach.

Am I lost in imagination,

Or drifting in unreal reality?

Lanterns float in emptiness,

Society is fading away.

After a long winter,

Spring breaks the silence—

Returning to reality,

Basanti sari, conch shells, and incense fragrance.

Chapter 5: Journeys and Exile

Searching for a Plane

A star shines in the festival’s hum,

Dreamliner wings flutter,

Flying into death’s procession.

Mermaid in the bathroom,

Fairy tale floods,

Runway nets hold shadows.

Not fish, not bird—

Only an illusion of love,

A lost shadow.

Time zones weary,

A terminal waits in silence,

Memories wrapped in shawls.

She will not return,

Her name marked in fate’s book.

Mountains Burning

On lonely horizons,

Mountains hide their faces in mist.

Between two peaks,

A thin river struggles,

Tankers call from sandy banks.

Dreams of paradise,

Heat of southern winds,

Bodies weary,

Hidden sun burns in envy.

Night’s thorns pierce,

Morning’s harsh flame rises.

One Day in California

A distant land,

Silent day under cloudy skies.

Golden meadows of Mira Mesa,

Blankets of poppies—red, yellow, green.

In Eden’s valley,

Rain whispers in Napa’s vineyards,

Endless thirst of time.

Evening’s crimson sky,

Lilies in drawing rooms,

Dreams of fulfilment in a boy’s eyes.

Fighter planes roar from Miramar,

Breaking silence,

Reality collides with dreams.