loving&spending most of the time day dreaming& at times teaching, this page holder loves to paint, read, write, practice music, gardening, watching the rain... Born in Shillong, the hill station doesn't leave her even if she moves from one place to another. 'p4poetry' gives her a room of her own(which our very powerful writer Virginia Woolf recommends), needless to say, she remains beholden for what the site offers. Thank you for dropping by a glance, gracing thus my space. Regards.

purabi has written 65 poems.
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Heavy in your languor you shot me a thousand times
bit by bit the sharp prick of the arrow,
made way through the skin I wore
tearing into the sheath where a tiny me
with blank white eyes, sat quietly playing life.
The marbles stay where they did.
Childhood lost in growing up
the bloom, in quest
the stretch of a seemingly unending wheat field

never fails to brown my view

lost in its undulant layers
my dreams soft pedaled holding colors,

thousand and one.

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