Where am I, really?
I try to find the tresses
Of my being in the dew drops
Of a winter dawn.

Where am I, really?
I try to search for the fragments
Of my soul in the soaked grasses
Of a monsoon dusk.

Where am I, really?
I try to discover the particles
Of my existence in the urban lights
Of a summer night.

Then the rainbow hues
Of a butterfly's wings, call me
And spread the glitters of my life
Across the black and white horizon.

.

- Ipsita Mitra Pupu
27/06/2021