Bhaskaranand Jha Bhaskar is a trilingual poet (Maithili, Hindi and English), short story writer, critic and reviewer, based in Kolkata. He is regularly published in various national and international magazines, both printed and online. His poetry springs straight from heart and mind as unification of sensibility. He uses catchy lines, expressions and images. In his poetry, social issues, romance and love are tackled with equal passion. Resonant with profound spirituality and intricate mysticism his poems are stunning and enlightening, buoyant sometimes and intense at other times and always have a deep meaning beautiful enough to touch hearts of avid readers. One of his poems on Nelson Mandela is included in the academic syllabus prescribed for the school students of Philippines. Soothing Serenades: Straight From the Heart is his first volume of poems and another one is in the pipeline. He is also a contributor to journals like The Criterion: An International Journal in English, IJML (International Journal On Multicultural Literature), The Anvil (Forum of Literature & Academic Research in English) and Harvests of New Millennium, The Interiors, Taj Mahal Review, IJES (The Indian Journal of English Studies). He is also a part of several anthologies like 'Epitaphs', ‘Purple Hues”, “Whispering Winds”, “Just For You, My Love”, “Heavenly Hymns”, ‘I Am a Woman”, “The Significant Anthology”, “Umbilical Cords”, "A- Divine-Madness" (Five Volumes), "Poetic Prism" - 2015 & 16, "Searching For Sublime" (Australian-Indo Poetry), "She the Shakti", "Whispering Heart"etc. He is also the Review Editor of Asian Signature, a literary e-journal, managed from Kolkata.

Memento of Moments

Goodness smiles in glee
In the gold medal
Brighter with untold intimacy,
Gaily received
From each and every side
As the beautiful words
Flow straight from the heart.

But as is the way of the world
Where nothing remains
As permanent as the reality
of impermanence,
One finally loses the medal
In one’s micro win,
Another finds it as a lovely gain.

Come what may,
I wish to remain equal-minded,
In all the dualities
Of mundane life;
I earnestly wish to cherish
And will treasure
Throughout my life lifetime
The precious memento of the moments
Best spent in life:
The gold medal of the truth
Trust, faith and the cordial love.


Aroma wafts around
In (soul)search
Of smelling hearts;
Connecting the two edges
Poles apart.
It tells a moving tale
Of true love
Unsaid and untold
Portrayed well
On the canvas of life.

Essence of love–
Shiuli* breathes her last
To relive in soul:
It soothes grieving hearts
Wherever it lies,
Its beauty and aroma
Will never die.

*Night-flowering jasmine

Rape Victims

The crude flesh from a womb
Grows into a beauty,
The beauty expands its realm
Of innocence and purity,
Vulture eyes stoop
To the nascent or tender life
For feeding on the helpless body
Of humanity and compassion
The blood-bath on the mother earth
Leaves only stigma and blots
On our conscientiousness
Never to be wiped off
From the humane faces
The inhumane hands remain stained
Till the hands are chopped off
To teach the nefarious, perverted minds
A severe lesson lifelong.

Nirbhayas, Nancies and Asifas
Must be murdered
As a punishment to be born
A mere helpless girl ?
Unprotected, all unsecured
In her own volatile turf :
Be it home, society, state or country
Until her society gives birth
To good and righteous people.

The time is ripe to impart ethics–
Value based education;
The doze of spirituality is a must
As it is sure to cure the perverted minds
And all social and mental ailments
Crude urges surging in hatred.
For parrying recurrent sexual assaults
On the fairer sex of the country
Why not moralize an immoral society?

Ghouls of Nights

All are afraid of ghouls
Of dark nights
For they grow piercing claws
That scratches their peace.
Sweats keep bleeding
Down through their temple areas
Breath almost stops
Supplying sufficient oxygen
To their thoughts.

Heart shirks, shrieks,
And sucks them
Of flowing, growing life
Mouth opens
But to drink only the tears.

Yet hands desperately try
To open the windows
Of gagged senses
To let the air fresh come in
When grief engulfs them
In blinding darkness
On the heartless heath of life.

Were I Yours!

Were I a bird
I would fly and perch
On your bosom
And tenderly peck
The pair of delicate petals!

Were I a bee
I would swarm around you,
Humming beautiful croons
And feel the aroma
Of the concealed riches!

Were I a piece of clothes,
I would wrap you
From toes to the head
Unwrapping the jewels borne
On yours!

Were I a glamour
I would glow and glow
In your demeanour
And remain glued for ever
To your crimson skin!

Were I a sun
I would warm you
With warmth of my heart
And caress yours
Melting the heated crust
Of surging passions!

Were I a moon
I would remain blinking
Winking and swoon
You into my embrace
In the dead of the nights!

Were I a door
I would shut you inside
In the chamber of my heart..
And stare at treasures
Of your beauty!

Were I a book
I would hook you to the pages
Of my fervid life
And explore all secrets
Of your dormant feelings and

Were I a pen
I would write off your pains
Through the blue blood
Of my existence
With its annals writ with love!

Were I an art
I would never part or depart
From your heart
Through any drawings
On sheet of paper
Scattered in the world!

Were I yours
I would never ever croon
This crude melody
Composed by the longing
Of my heart!

-Bhaskaranand Jha Bhaskar

Life is Transient

Life is a transient mirror
Reflecting in it
The eternal presence of Being;
All the troubles are
Just shadows…

The shadows are a mirage
Tempting one to cover
Some miles of days
Or leave behind some dark nights
In the oblivious past
And all its vicious circles
Of vices and vile…

Life is a walk
A perennial walk into the shade
Of continuum beliefs,
A long experiential journey
From self to soul
Through a testing trajectory
Where one has to prove
The worth of one’s soul
In the ethereal light
Of quietude and equanimity…

Living experience always unfolds
The absolute truth
And the ultimate realization:
Everything exists
Yet exits as nothing ever exists.

– Bhaskaranand Jha Bhaskar

Like All I Too Stuff My Mind Daily

Like all I too stuff my mind daily
With chapters of philosophy
The great have have left behind..
I console myself
With spiritual lessons of the Geeta
Lord Krishna has taught the timid
I reconcile myself
With adverse circumstances
That traumatize and bother me;
I accept and affirm
Whatever bad happens
Lasts no longer and evaporates,
I strive seeking a soothing shelter
In metaphysical musings
In comforting bosom of Absolute Being.
When painful troubles pour
And befall everywhere in me
However hard I try to tranquilize myself
My mind, stressed, agonized
My heart beating the drum of restlessness .

Nothing cures my anguished soul.
When nothing works and it jerks more
I finally throw down the gauntlet
(to the Captain)
In cursing Him hidden in ployful heaven
I feel comforted by myself
Despite the agonizing turmoil
I then believe in potentiality
Of my ill-luck or misfortunes
in a positive and encouraging way
Making fun of all misfortunes
Lo! Out of weakness
Of my sunken heart
Comes up my inner strength
And courage mustered
To deal with the evil treatment
Ruthlessly meted out to me
I am led by the ultimate impression–
All beliefs, gods and goddesses’ sermons
Are just a gewgaw to scare the weak hearts.

– Bhaskaranand Jha Bhaskar

Ocean of Love

Ocean of your love
So deep and vast
All my crude surging urges
Are submerged

My lust
Foamy and floated
Emerges refined
Out of depth of your heart

Your bosom
Bowery and comforting
My life has a tranquil perch
on your bough

My sores
So grievous and chronic
Are healed up
For good
By your curing hands

Your brows
So cute and beauteous
My eyes reflect
Out a celestial glimpse
Of yours
as a replica of Aphrodite-
Goddess of Love.