Sharmishtha Basu's Blog: Sharmishtha Basu writes, page 245

170×170 day 30 30.5.15

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

CHECKOUT MY BOOKS-

butterflies from life’s garden a collection of poems

http://www.createspace.com/5436716

http://www.amazon.com/dp/b00w6tgly2

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

In an abandoned hut, inside the wood

travelers dare not to trespass, for there lived

a vile woman, evil than devil they say.

She had a mask of a very pretty angel, that she wore,

hiding her rotting flesh and decaying soul,

she conned every creature that came close to her,

beast or men all alike.

To equals she feigned to be friend, to older the daughter,

to younger the mother, but all headed for the same fate.

She sucked them dry like a spider that lures gullible

or careless creatures in web, and once in the web,

there is no going out, they dangle there, while she takes

her time, one by one she sucks them dry, not a single one

slips by! The travelers say that her evil stayed behind,

so did the sigh of the innocents she slaughtered pretending

to be their savior, friend, mentor, nurturer.

That foulest of betrayal became darkness itself and lives there,

They say if one stays there he sure will be cursed!

170×170 day 28 28.5.15

FEED THE AUTHOR, LIKE THE WORKS WHY DONT YOU CHECK OUT MY BOOKS AND FEED THE POOR AUTHOR?

the lotus of fire

http://www.createspace.com/5030667

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00o8m3o5e

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

Is not he that man, who you heard preaching the virtues

of love, kindness, forgiveness and all good things?

The man that is baying for the blood of the monster

who ruined his favorite garden?

Where did that preaching mode go? Where did that

deep faith in love, kindness, forgiveness disappeared?

When it came to the hurt, destruction of others,

he was the first one to sing songs of virtues,

how angels forgive, weak hearts have not the power!

How forgiveness is sign of man, without it a heart is stone,

now he is sitting there, frothing from mouth, cursing his heads off,

plotting fifty plots to settle his score!

Just because some monster ruined his flowers, tore them to pieces

and flattened plants to ground!

You can still hear him preaching forgiveness to those whose lives

have been destroyed like his favorite garden, ripped to pieces, crushed

ruined beyond repair. How loudly he preached them!

How opinions change when victims change, when others hurt some

never feel the pain.

For Tagore Rabikare agnishatdal 2

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 27 27.5.15

FEED THE AUTHOR, LIKE THE WORKS WHY DONT YOU CHECK OUT MY BOOKS AND FEED THE POOR AUTHOR?

black mist and other stories

http://www.createspace.com/5058824

http://www.amazon.com/dp/b00ontgsbe

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

Ah the wicked wicked wolf, shrewd as one can be,

She trots with the sheep, wearing one’s skin.

That poor lamb was her first kill, too gullible for own sake.

She devoured her, chewed her to the last bone and then

suddenly the idea popped up in her mind, what if…

What if she wore its skin and trotted with the sheep.

When the shepherd was not watching she may lure one,

to take a walk with her to far away meadow where grass was greener.

Oh that will be so delicious, sooner or later a fool will fall,

and take that last walk with her, that will mean meal for few days,

then she will resume her post.

Till date she lives with herd of sheep, hops from one herd to other.

To avoid being branded as suspicious and preys on the innocents.

Using their gullible trusting nature she gets her prey without a fuss,

no hunting, no toil required only treachery and cunning!

That suits her quite well.

For Tagore Rabikare agnishatdal 1

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 26 26.5.15

FEED THE AUTHOR, LIKE THE WORKS WHY DONT YOU CHECK OUT MY BOOKS AND FEED THE POOR AUTHOR?

songbird sings to sun

https://www.createspace.com/5058572

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00p2cayzm

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

Light sparkles in her eyes when she looks at you,

As if two stars are shining in those eyes

That look through you.

They don’t say anything, nor do the lips

But you have the deepest feeling that they know,

They can see through you, as if your heart, soul

Is an open book, and every feeling that you have

Is written on them, she gently sifts through the pages

Reading each and every word, understanding it all,

Dark hearts feel unsteady in her presence,

Afraid that she can read their intentions they cower.

Hurting hearts feel reassurance by her single glance,

Knowing deep within that she can feel their pain.

Loving hearts warm up in her proximity

Knowing their heart rhythms with her heart full of love.

Tormented hearts discover peace in her face,

That tells them not to worry, the night may be dark,

Wind might be howling, thunder roaring

the path may be scary but soon it will end

and they will reach their tavern to rest.

Moments from the journey 5

http://www.createspace.com/5435178

http://www.amazon.com/dp/b00w5vidhe

ISBN-13:

978-1511731324

ISBN-10:

151173132X

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poem 5

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All the angels were playing in heaven’s garden

when they noticed their darling friend

Compassion has been missing these games

since long, how long they did not know.

Love and friendship started to search

saw her sitting on a cloud.

Far away from bustling crowd

they tiptoed to her to startle.

Before they could, their hearts prevented

for she was gazing so hard down at earth below.

When they followed her gaze they noticed it too,

a speck of gentle light shining there.

Compassion saw them and beckoned

together they flew to earth.

The light was a gentle lady in plight

surrendered by evil shadows, invisible pits.

Every time a shadow tried to touch her

with its icy cold fingers or she moved

too close to one of the pits

compassion gently pulled her back.

170×170 day 25 25.5.15

FEED THE AUTHOR, LIKE THE WORKS WHY DONT YOU CHECK OUT MY BOOKS AND FEED THE POOR AUTHOR?

tell me a story

https://www.createspace.com/5067283

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00p2bnl8a

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

Motherly affection is not a gadget available on hire,

You can’t make a woman feel “motherly”,

Lucky indeed it is for the society that most women are born

mothers, it’s simply inside them, it comes to them by nature!

Then again often they are brought up that way,

they are too scared to say it out loud that they don’t feel like one.

They just don’t have that thing in them, gushing on every child that

comes their way, they hide it because they know the scorns they will face,

if they go around telling they prefer their lap empty, not because they hate,

but because they are not interested to have a kid on their lap.

So they fall in the rhythm with the society, wear the mask it wants them to wear.

Better watch out if you truly suffer from the complex,

that motherhood is an automatic, spontaneous and universal power.

You may end up with a nanny or a crib killer, better check out before you bargain.

For Tagore Rabikare agnishatdal 1

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

Thursday Bouquet 25.6.15

Have a glorious day! full of love and happiness.

love and hugs.