Sujoy Bhattacharya is a nature poet from India. He loves to write on the strangeness of human psychology. He worships humanity and adores poetry as a living deity. Some of his works have been supported by magazines of global repute.
[ultimate_heading main_heading=”Poems by Sujoy Bhattacharya – Issue.XXXV : December 2017 ” main_heading_color=”#1e73be” sub_heading_color=”#8224e3″ spacer=”line_with_icon” spacer_position=”bottom” line_style=”dotted” line_height=”1″ line_color=”#1e73be” icon_type=”custom” icon_img=”id^48|url^http://ashvamegh.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/Ashvamegh-ICO.jpg|caption^null|alt^Ashvamegh Journal Icon|title^Ashvamegh ICO|description^null” img_width=”48″ main_heading_style=”font-weight:bold;” main_heading_font_size=”desktop:34px;” line_width=”3″]nature and human…[/ultimate_heading]
Elegy On void
I was sitting on the bank of a river.
A river that has a garland of names.
It was a place where serenity dwells –
As serene as a nocturnal nest of birds.
My heartbeat was reverberating in my ears.
My respiratory sound was knocking at my brain.
I heard the sound of a leaf floating in the river
as soft as the blushful smile of a bride.
The wind was blowing gently – it was as mild
as a soul leaves a body being throttled to death!
The ripples were playing as soft as dreaming smile
of a sleeping baby while remembering angel’s company.
A pert- less squirrel stared at me soundless as clouds
moist and heavy – getting congealed to semi-molten drops.
I floated my look on the surface of river water as gently as
dusk caresses the earth with her handless hugging invisible.
l allowed my look to encroach on the bottom of the river
as slowly as a phantom comes out of a haunted house.
I felt the fathomless abysmal as dark as the womb of my mom.
A gust of chilled wind titillating me with thousand supple fingers.
I lifted my glance up into the sky soundlessly as if a flower falls off a calyx.
The clouds were weaving a tapestry on the canvas of the blue firmament.
The polestar appeared in the sky as furtively as death enters to snatch a life.
The desolate forlornness of the place benumbed my body – a paralytic impact!
Two warm drops of tears came rolling my cheeks as if writing
unlettered epic of my life.
Female power
Fear is the shadow of their life.
Precariousness is the eternal ornament.
Physical torture – a regular remuneration.
Mental flogging amorous reward rigid!
Fright they dwell with – ponderously perilous.
A mute robot to carry out orders silently sobbing.
A fleshy machine to satiate beastly lust and sensuality.
A fettered slave to lead a captive life in a certified brothel.
Male dominated society, weaker sex nomenclature award!
Rapists go scot free, being raped a born – right unwritten.
Reaped they are, harvested are they, infamously heinous.
Venom they are administered, hemlock they are to brew nectar.
Time is now ripe to rise up from tyrannized hibernation enthralled!
Dooms day for their counterpart, a deluge of women power imminent.
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