It flummoxes the way questions are thrown upon,
Life itself is a hill of questions which stands upon.
From this side of closed ones from that side of strangers,
From year dot compelled to breath this condition upon.
From self never achieved peace in solitary nest even once,
In the road of circulation rivals has always sullen upon.
Never ask this what is keep on happening on,on and on,
Carrying the bier of self throughout the whole life upon.
Rabindranath Banerjee (Ranjan )