[ultimate_heading main_heading=”Poems by Soubhagyabanta Maharana – Issue.XXXII : September 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″ margin_design_tab_text=””]an aged voice…[/ultimate_heading]

Born in the Bolangir town  of Odisha state on 15.08.1951 poet Soubhagyabanta Maharana started writing poetry from the year 1975. He is a post Graduate in History from Sambalpur University, Odisha.  Mr. Maharana is basically a bilingual poet  of Odia and English. Several  poems of him have been published in the leading Oriya magazines , MUSE INDIA ejournal , POETRY FIRST , Poetry Chronicle, Indian Literature ,Telegraph weekly  magazine, The Caravan, The Eastern Times of Odisha and A Posy of Poesy , Poets’ Paradise , The Poetic Bliss , Fancy Realm and Chants of Peace of Guntur Literary Festival.




History is seldom a pretence of events

But a document of passing realities

Soaked with blood, love and bravery

To recount episodes of war and peace

With unification and disintegration

Of far-flung empires in stone inscriptions.


From the fossils of history

Emerge unforeseen matters, baffled ideas

To see the light of culture and science

Amid darkness of disaster

Waiting in the cosy corner of museum.


History is sometimes shadowed

By banes of cruel hands like testing saline blood

Smeared on the sword in battle-field.

It creates shadow of ruffled doubts

Generating  furore or turmoil

In the anarchy of a nation like tremors.


Ill-fated  history seldom reveals true love

Encircling the dilapidated harem

To unravel the mysteries of orgies of Maharaja.

Unpacified souls of Hiroshima and Nagasaki

Resound with heavy sighs and tearful eyes

In the whispering nuclear sky

To recollect life in death’s paradise

With a mission to freshen lost memory.






The cute and candid time

in its endless sojourn

to decipher the stressful events

may be ungrateful sometimes

out of sheer arrogance

cannot pierce the heart absolutely

of a man craving to be civilized.


The transparency of naivety

the depth of affability

will seldom find its inner spirit

in the opaque personality of a man

being far from the light of civilization.


Then what is civilization

to be proud of ingeniously

despite its mundane

and momentary pleasures

amid the  dripping of blood

to smear with terrorism and corruption?


Still its other side

greatly allures the avaricious man

in the conscious or subconscious

channel of existence

as if an insect is enchanted blindly

towards the beautiful flame

of furious fire

to be devoured atom by atom.




Bite Me Oh, Reality!


When reality bites me  with audacity

Tangled with tension and mal administration

I stumble down at once

On the half way of my journey

Surrendering my primordial ego

Being suffocated by unjust ethics.


When freedom knocks at door

Should I reveal my shackles of slavery

Which have engulfed me till today

Amid murky darkness of ignorance

To mock at the icy sun?


Our democracy has become a mockery

To frown upon the Ahimsa of Gandhi

When his three loving monkeys

Shed tears with heavy heart

Seeing degradation of man and society.


Surrounded by chaos of isms

My primal empathy searching for a flicker of light

Amidst the encircling gloom of darkness

Bewails over inability from time to time.


The dark destiny of democracy

Has swindled and betrayed us

Dragging us to the nadir of morality

To worship the greedy god of scam and corruption

With penchant of perverted emotion.

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