Comments on this Poem
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The houseboat, not the paperboat of the child on the river waters floating to conjure up imagery upon the mind's plane and I eagerly viewing the moon and the hills, moving towards the Dal Lake, the Sunderbans and Kerala.
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Thank you, Bijay babu. Your imagination does touch the sky. Often you give new interpretation to my composition.
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In the houseboat the river carries the nightly sky full of stars and the moon and the glow worms glimmering, yoginis appearing, the night passed in for the Himalayan sadhus, tantrical to the tantricas.
Somewhere Milton burning the midnight oil to write his magnum opus
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