Banalata Sen is the most widely quoted poem by Jibanananda.

For thousands of years I roamed the paths of this earth,
From waters around Ceylon in dead of night to Malayan seas.
Much have I wandered. I was there in the gray world of Asoka
And Bimbisara, pressed on through darkness to the city of Vidarbha.
I am a weary heart surrounded by life's frothy ocean.
To me she gave a moment's peace - Banalata Sen from Natore.

Her hair was like an ancient darkling night in Vidisa
Her face, the craftsmanship of Sravasti. As the helmsman,
His rudder broken, far out upon the sea-adrift,
Sees the grass-green land of a cinnamon isle, just so
Through darkness I saw her. Said she, "Where have you been so long?"
And raised her bird's-nest-like eyes - Banalata Sen from Natore.

At days end, like hush of dew
Comes evening. A hawk wipes the scent of sunlight from its wings,
When earth's colors fade and some pale design is sketched,
Then glimmering fireflies paint in the story.
All birds come home, all rivers, all of this life's tasks finished.
Only darkness remains, as I sit there face to face with Banalata Sen.

Banalata Sen was a recurrent theme is Jibanananda's creation with its rich tapestry of imagery..Was there a Banalata Sen? There is no documentation that there was indeed someone by that name in his real life...Expressions suggesting end of time, and use of words like "darkness remains" suggest end of life themes, that were common in Jibanananda's works related to Banalata Sen, but nothing beyond is hinted in these works. In "thousands of years merely play" he wrote, for example, Bonolota Video..

Thousands of years merely play like fireflies in darkness.
Pyramids all about. The smell of coffins.
Moonlight upon sand. Here and there shadows of date palms
Like disintegrated columns. Assyria stands dead - humbled.
Stench of mummies on our bodies: all of life's business is finished.
"Remember?" she asked. I queried merely, "Banalata Sen?"

In spite of his nuclear family of wife and two children, Jibanananda Das was a very lonely person...The poet Buddhadev Bose once commented that he was the "...most alone of our poets."..In a reflective, as if premonitory piece on the tram tracks of Calcutta, he once wrote:

"....It is late - so very late at night.
From one Calcutta sidewalk to another, from sidewalk to sidewalk
As I walk along, my life's blood feels the vapid, venomous touch
Of tram tracks stretched out beneath my feet like a pair of primordial serpent sisters.
A soft rain is falling, the wind slightly chilling.
Of what far land of green grass, rivers, fireflies am I thinking?
Where are the stars?
Have those stars been lost?
Beneath my feet the slender tram track - above my head a mesh of tangled wire
Chastises me...."

Sixteen years after he wrote these lines, in a fateful evening, while returning home from his evening walk, he was run over by a streetcar..Eight days later, he lost his battle..

Jibanananda Das was a unique poet for his generation..For his genre of poets, his entry into publication of poems was at an older age than most of his peers..In his lifetime, recognition came slow for him, and most of the time, too little, too late..It's ironic that the greatest poet of the post Tagore generation of Bengal never lived to see better times..Even in his centenary year, Calcutta, which prides itself to have more streets named after poets and litterateurs than any other, doesn't have one for her own son who lived and died in her streets and city-blocks..Yet, through it all, we want to believe all these are too trivial for the poet who once declared (in Windy Night):

"....My heart tore free from the earth and flew,
Flew up like a drunken balloon into an ocean of blue wind,
To the mast of some distant constellation, scattering stars as it flapped
away like some mischievous vulture...."