isn’t it beautiful to speak in personal hieroglyphic between us, indecipherable by any speaking soul? when trees speak their own language, rings are inscribed around brown barks that become a repository of conversation of each passing day. have you ever seen a human soul keeping track of archived words frozen in a timeless zone? oh what are we but trees that have crossed their spring still not lost their love of green in a place that is slow converting into a cannibalistic brown!
Nabanita Sengupta is an Assistant Professor of English by profession and creative writer by passion. Translation remains one of her chief areas of work and interest. Her works can be read in various journals, anthologies and e-zines.