Mrityunjay Kumar Singh, a senior IPS officer of the West Bengal cadre, has successfully traversed and linked together the paths of creative writing, literature, music and theatre. Being an ingenious and multifaceted personality, he has transliterated and trans-created Kalidas's Meghdoot into English and Hindi. Apart from this, he has two volumes of poetry to his credit. 

Mrityunjay is an accomplished writer of lyrics and has contributed to Rituparno Ghosh’s Antarmahal, and other films like Via Darjeeling, Dharm and more. Mrityunjay has also lent his voice to a soulful number in Rituparno Ghosh’s film Chokher Bali. Moreover, he has conceptualised and scripted the Bhojpuri musical dance drama Bidesiya. He has also conceptualised and staged Shikandini at the Festival of India in Jakarta. Recently, he has penned and staged Dev-Sabha, a satire on the Council of Gods gathered to decide the fate of those souls that have died untimely deaths because of sexual and other violence. His cultural acumen can also be gauged through his tenure as Director, Jawaharlal Nehru Indian Cultural Center, Jakarta and Indonesia.

(1) FOG

Gliding over the dusty foliage

Camouflaging

A polluted river

Swinging beneath a bridge

She wraps the nudity

Of a land

That will soon be exposed

To a ravenous light.

(2) Me and You

Do you know

With which ray of the sun

Does the dawn arrive?

Or,

With which hue of darkness

Does the night descend?

Life oscillates

Between the two odd ends

We choose our hue

And live our due,

Each of us - me and you.

(3) I Seek Thee

Perched in the fissure

Of Time and timelessness,

Ripped and minced

By the sharp blades

Of relevance

Nowhere to flee,

I seek thee!

Suspended in the breeze

With the wind that doesn't blow

And space that hangs low

with blue eyed reverence,

A clam oozes free

I feel thee!

Competing to muffle the sounds of sound

In the ocean of species cacophony abound

Like a solitary bird

Humming a reverie,

I sing thee!

Devoid of seed and soil

On the edges of fertility

Bearing rotten fruits of decay

Bored with barren envy,

A bald tree,

I beseech thee!

With the spilled water of cascading descending fountain

And left behind shadow

Of the growing mountain

I search and see

The expanse of thee!

(4) Love

The only thing
I may share with you
Is suffering
Or
May be, Love?

Love
That defined
Pangs of loss
Yet consumed the time
Needed to suffer
The misery!

Love
That swept across
Like a gush of colours
Swirling
Amidst breeze of errors!

Love
That muddled
My existence
So much
With pieces of sunderance
Suffering
Became so much easier.

So, do I suffer
Because I love,
Or, do I love
Because I suffer?

(5) The Buzz

Rancour, broil, shivers,

The morning drops

From a drooping

Serrated tip of a palm tree

Silently suffering

A totalitarian smirk

Of smoggy haze

Allowing as much air

As to keep the leaves gasping

Cacophonous rasping

Converging

To create a muzzy migraine

While the first ray

Grates past

With a nudging heat

Of a warm sensation;

I grab understanding

Like a lazy, long analysis

Ending

In series of enigma.

The buzz continues,

The migraine envelops.