Author Archives: BHASKARANAND JHA BHASKAR

About BHASKARANAND JHA BHASKAR

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. He has to his credit three collections of poems in English: Soothing Serenades: Straight From the Heart (2018), Two Indias and Other Poems (2019) and Thoughts in Solitude (2020). 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.

For A Warring World

Today the world needs no artillery
For wreaking havoc on life and nature.
Rockets, missiles, tanks, launchers
Are the weapons
Of tyrants,
Bred in warring camps;
They must be shunned and demolished
For fostering a cordial sense
Of brotherhood.

Love, humanity and cooperation must
Take a leading role
For dousing the flares
Of communal clashes and riots,
For rousing the feeling
Of being humane,
For God to live in peaceful minds.

War can only mar, not anything make
Let it rest in grave for humanity’s sake.

– Bhaskaranand Jha Bhaskar

Shoulders To Cry On

Deaths of young people, near and dear ones,
Their dead bodies float in mourning rivers
While we helplessly watch ourselves
Being carried away by uncontrolled tears.

They die in hospitals, built for saving lives,
And we stay back home or in quarantines,
Practising the precautionary measures
While honoring the helpless govt. guidelines.

Around the walls of the protected zones
Screams and sobs are heard in eerie silence;
Life seems to have come to a standstill
And humanity needs our act of benevolence.

It is one of the darkest times for all mankind
But the ripe time to lend a helping hand;
All those, in grief, who have lost their own
Need nothing but some shoulders to cry on.

– Bhaskaranand Jha Bhaskar

Triumphs of Life

Gloomy darkness seems to have engulfed
The whole world of life
As light has hidden its head behind.
Sobs of sorrows are heard
Everywhere in each and every terrain.

The flocks are forced to stay back home in fear.
And I am glued to the scary news channels
In the hope of good news
That the hard times have passed
That the poisonous waves have receded.

Wagging its tail the pregnant dog looks at me,
Not for food, but for its life to be saved;
Birds seem to have lost their nests.
Their screams are heard only to send
A chill down the spine!

Let the stormy weather rain deadly stones
Crushing down moments of joy,
Hope of life does sprout up from the dead leaves
And I am, here, with pen and paper
Watching triumphs of seeds, plants and trees.

-Bhaskaranand Jha Bhaskar

Thanks to Nature

Thank you for the air we breathe in
So that we can filter out
Dust and dirt;
Thank you for the water we drink
So that we can water plants, trees,
Green roots and ruts.

Thank you for the food we eat
So that we live to save the canopy
Of man and mankind;
Thank you for the home we sleep in
So that we make a roof for others —
All those, tired of the daily grind.

Thank you for the energy bestowed
To energise the drained soul
And sunken heart;
Thank you for all your selfless efforts
For beautifying the earth,
For ennobling us before we depart.

-Bhaskaranand Jha Bhaskar

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

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
Thoughts!

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