The poet Sourav Sarkar was born on 10th November 1988 in Cooch Behar district, West Bengal, INDIA. He went to Jenkins school. He received graduation in English Literature from University B.T & Evening college and Post graduate from St. Joseph’s college Darjeeling in English Literature. Foremostly he is a poet and he is Writing in vernacular (Bengali language) and specially (English poems).He is also writing critics, short stories and novels. His first collection of poetry in Bengali, is “Duti Sohor o Kichu kobita”and first micronovel in English ,is“The Puri Seller”. His works appeared in national and international magazines. 12th OCTOBER Bye, bye Only thing to be done by only one sought of hand Esha takes back her hand 12th October, the day A pain wondering in her eyes It is visible More often When she departs Nothing was in her hand Face was dull Soon the smoke engine takes its rage Her hairs were fluctuating She went for a distance She often come to her motherland Having the same agony of past The day ,her mother went to heaven She also allotted that day to leave for his new residence Every year she used to come Having same desire that her mother someday Will come and take her away from the world of pain This time also she is doing same She will be doing same Until her mother comes. A PINCH OF BLISS Saturday ‘s morning Had a cup of tea Cookies were charming At launch rice and green pea Newspaper , daily Used to be read People and mockery Happens to be dealt A long day run On busy street Joker’s jugglery And some awesome treat Bliss is foul Rather fouls are bliss A prayer for mercy At ST. Augustine A fine for nothing But alkaline . A poetry dedicated to life Origin is nowhere Its beauty, we sense Fresh water flows in rivers Cold wind shrills in hills Glooms being taken away by clouds Its beauty of life, its beauty of world Moments can not be framed in hours Its endless, its abound of joy and pleasure It’s a kind of pleasure That we inhale without cost Its beauty that soothes our mind Sometime it showers as rain sometimes as frost Live, live, a life of beauty Live a life of innocence Bring up your infancy Bring up the child inside you Lose yourself in a stormy night And find yourself in blue lagoon Search for beauty of life At least one day in the month of five.
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