Category: Poetry

WHEN CHILDREN CRY

21st July 2019 2 Comments

  When children cry I cry.   When a girl is raped I laugh as a madman ,   when a clash is fought among 

FOUR CORNERS

25th June 2019 1 Comment

Four corners I have In one are buried my ancestors.   In the next There sleeps a cooking pot.   Over the third thatched roof

আমি কান্না করি

15th June 2019 No Comments

  আমি কান্না করি যখন আপনি সহাস্যে  জঙ্গল বিনাশ করেন।   আমি কান্না করি যখন আপনি হৃদয়ে দেওয়াল নির্মাণ করেন আর নিজের গণ্ডীকে আরও দুর্ভেদ্য

ASK NOT MY COUNTRY OR STATE

31st May 2019 No Comments

Ask not my country Or state.   Ask not my trade Or job.   Ask not my tongue Or region.   Ask not the colour

RABINDRANATH TAGORE

12th May 2019 3 Comments

Tagore! You are our poet, our identity, Our leader, our mentor, To whom we return At dark nights and in shining days.   Tagore! You 

BILKIS YAKUB RASOOL

9th May 2019 9 Comments

  1 Bilkis! you are not  Lucrece you have no lily hand or rosy cheek and your eyes are not marigolds, hair not golden threads

IF YOU LOVE

6th February 2019 3 Comments

a poem on love, beauty,death.

AN AGED COUPLE

4th December 2018 1 Comment

Sixty autumns together they walked, And how many more who knows? Side by side they stood on the forest fringe And admired shrivelled faces and

SANTALPARA

4th December 2018 2 Comments

Bored being confined by four walls, I set out for Santalpara Where I hear rustics sit idle whole day And drink, brawl and do nothing.

A FORSAKEN WOMAN

3rd December 2018 No Comments

Her man stole a neighbourhood girl, And went Arunachal a long ago, When Munni crawled in her Belly, swollen to burst.   She lived at

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Subhash Chandra
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"A gifted writer"

A gifted versetile writer who writes excellent stories and poems on the invisibles, pariahs, margins, aged, weaklings of our society. A rising star on the literary firmament.
Santosh Bakaya
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Praise for my writing

“Your story Undersell left me with a lump in my throat, so did your poem, He also lights candles.”
Louis Kasatkin
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Praise for my poem "Elderly Men Two"

"A finely honed observational piece recording the minutiae of everyday life. Rendered with the author’s customary poetic aplomb suffused with a Borges like quality of the mythic."