True feelings by Sudip Biswas When the streets are empty enough, I walk along the midnight city. All the dead heroes, the freedom fighters used up to neme the streets. All the broken statues been kept aside at abandoned parks. A deep whisper surround the heaps of darkness, Command and unfulfilled promises are kept aside. Only the dreamy street lights keeping its words. When the owl cries over the dusky sky, The young caesalpinia leaves become hills all around. The most intimate embrace between concealment and exposure walks with me, keeping a bylane of hipocrasy and honest feelings.