Sharmishtha Basu's Blog: Sharmishtha Basu writes, page 244

For Tagore Rabikare Agnishatdal 6

Well, ever since reading in an article how English is slowly replacing vernacular languages I decided to try the two I know, Bengali and Hindi, Now, I don’t have a software that wont meddle with my computer and allow me to write in Hindi or Bengali so I tried another style, simply writing and taking photographs, that will perfectly fit with my style of poems mingled with paintings, so this is the first book of that style, at first Bengali poem, then English poem capturing its inner meaning. I have not used translation, so that those who are Bengali will be able to enjoy all 70 poems.

The first one is being published right now, today is Tagore’s birthday as per English calendar, 7th May 1861, we Bengalis celebrate his birthday on 25th Boisakh, that will fall, as usual on 9th May, by then the book will be out and I will share the links.

Its name is “For Tagore- Rabikare Agnishatdal”

https://www.amazon.com/dp/b00x9ledku

170×170 day 34 3.6.15

THINK THE AUTHOR DESERVES TO CONTINUE, LITTLE ENCOURAGEMENT? INSPIRE HER!

CHECKOUT MY BOOKS-

moments from the journey a collection of poems

http://www.createspace.com/5435178

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00W5VIDHE

https://www.amazon.com/author/sharmishthabasu

The ruins of the old house stands alone by village road,

dirt road that gets deserted right after night fall.

The house looks at the orchard across the burning ghat,

small huts, kids that play there at night, make him sigh.

A century ago, that orchard was not here, there laid the river,

It roared like a lion in monsoon, its water lapped his walls,

with million crystal tongues, it tried to bring him down,

but he won, man-made dams stole the might of the mighty river,

it shrunk beyond recognition, now, once in a while it displays,

tamed version of its wild face, once in a while, when sluice gates

are opened after a hearty rain fall.

But it never touches the walls of the house like before, it gushes

past the orchard, he only hears its tamed roar.

Sometimes he thinks if man had not tamed that mighty river,

it would have won by now, he would not be standing here.

For his caretakers have deserted, abandoned him.

Waves that became songs 2

https://www.createspace.com/5439616

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00WNZ63Z6

ISBN-13:

978-1511764957

ISBN-10:

1511764953

———–

POEM 2

———-

Can you say sorry after killing someone?

Can you restore a person’s reputation after ruining?

Will it really matter at all if you apologize?

Or curse yourself, hate yourself, punish yourself?

No! So control that tiny beast caged behind teeth,

Control that fire in brain that provokes you

to take up the garb of judge or play God.

A thing done can rarely be undone, so don’t do that!

20.08.09, Garia, Kolkata

170×170 day 33 2.6.15

THINK THE AUTHOR DESERVES TO CONTINUE, LITTLE ENCOURAGEMENT? INSPIRE HER!

CHECKOUT MY BOOKS-

for tagore- rabikare agnishatdal bengali and english poems together

https://www.amazon.com/b00x9ledku

https://www.amazon.com/author/sharmishthabasu

White sand on river bank spreads for miles

Old banyan tree grows on one side,

has been standing there for centuries

Its surrounded by trunks that once were aerial roots,

They cluster around the old tree like young sentinels,

guarding an old king on throne.

The river is shallow but wide, crystal water sparkles

in moonlight, one can see the fishes swimming during daylight.

Men and beast can easily cross her on foot.

In summer dogs swim in her water for hours, sometimes they

sit down in the water for a little respite.

Kids play in her water for hours, there is no fear for drowning,

thus no adult supervision, it’s all childish and rowdy fun.

There is no scope for fishermen in summer, winter, though they try

to take their boat to deeper spots, where a little hole has stored

a little extra water, there they throw their nets and wait.

The farmers carry their vegetables in small baskets to the town

on the other side of the river.

For Tagore Rabikare agnishatdal 5

Well, ever since reading in an article how English is slowly replacing vernacular languages I decided to try the two I know, Bengali and Hindi, Now, I don’t have a software that wont meddle with my computer and allow me to write in Hindi or Bengali so I tried another style, simply writing and taking photographs, that will perfectly fit with my style of poems mingled with paintings, so this is the first book of that style, at first Bengali poem, then English poem capturing its inner meaning. I have not used translation, so that those who are Bengali will be able to enjoy all 70 poems.

The first one is being published right now, today is Tagore’s birthday as per English calendar, 7th May 1861, we Bengalis celebrate his birthday on 25th Boisakh, that will fall, as usual on 9th May, by then the book will be out and I will share the links.

Its name is “For Tagore- Rabikare Agnishatdal”

https://www.amazon.com/dp/b00x9ledku

170×170 day 32 1.6.15

THINK THE AUTHOR DESERVES TO CONTINUE, LITTLE ENCOURAGEMENT? INSPIRE HER!

CHECKOUT MY BOOKS-

melodies from moonlit nights a collection of poems

https://www.createspace.com/5441113

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00WTXA11O

https://www.amazon.com/author/sharmishthabasu

Lies are cunning little rascals, like mice they multiply,

allow a pair to live on your tongue, soon they will make you run!

They will multiply in a speed that will sooner or later make you regret,

the minute when you allowed them to land on your tongue!

No matter how smart you are or you think you are,

Sooner or later your lies will be exposed and truth will come out.

Now, if they are harmless lies, you will be lucky one, people will just guffaw,

call you a silly fool or little cuckoo and move on with a smile or scorn.

But if you had some agenda behind those lies, you will be surprised

at the speed in which your bad reputation will fly, how quickly people

will walk away from you as if you are a disease contagious,

you will be sitting alone, regretting why you said the first lie and then

like a fool said the second to keep it a secret allowed them to multiply.

Thursday Bouquet 2.7.15

Have a blessed day!

love and hugs.

Thursday Rhymes 2.7.15

the train thunders by

startling the boatman

he looks up at the train

on the railway bridge

window after window

pass him by

some people watching him

others lost in their worlds,

he wondered where it headed,

how far will it go,

maybe one day if life permits

he will hop on it and see

the places it will take him to,

the people it will introduce him to.

170×170 day 31 31.5.15

THINK THE AUTHOR DESERVES TO CONTINUE, LITTLE ENCOURAGEMENT? INSPIRE HER!

CHECKOUT MY BOOKS-

waves that became songs a collection of poems

https://www.createspace.com/5439616

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00WNZ63Z6

https://www.amazon.com/author/sharmishthabasu

Rumble of wheels on tracks are first heard

the train shows up a few minutes later

lit windows dance in the rhythm to the wheel

the dark boxes waltz past.

Shadows of people in windows, watching out,

Sometimes one stops for the signal

to give a clearer view!

In the small boxes of light they sit,

some watching out at darkness, or our homes!

Some sitting, reading, a man standing at the door,

leaning out, waiting for the train to move again.

There is a beauty in that body made of metal, wood,

A beauty that can’t be explained by words.

Why it feels so good to look at them, whenever they

pass by, or listening to their wheel’s music

even when they are not in sight!

What is the mystery behind that attraction one wonders!

Then some mysteries are never solved, guess that is how

the mysteries are, or they are supposed to be.

Law of attraction is world’s greatest mystery! A mystery

so many will die to unravel.

For Tagore Rabikare agnishatdal 4

Well, ever since reading in an article how English is slowly replacing vernacular languages I decided to try the two I know, Bengali and Hindi, Now, I don’t have a software that wont meddle with my computer and allow me to write in Hindi or Bengali so I tried another style, simply writing and taking photographs, that will perfectly fit with my style of poems mingled with paintings, so this is the first book of that style, at first Bengali poem, then English poem capturing its inner meaning. I have not used translation, so that those who are Bengali will be able to enjoy all 70 poems.

The first one is being published right now, today is Tagore’s birthday as per English calendar, 7th May 1861, we Bengalis celebrate his birthday on 25th Boisakh, that will fall, as usual on 9th May, by then the book will be out and I will share the links.

Its name is “For Tagore- Rabikare Agnishatdal”

https://www.amazon.com/dp/b00x9ledku