Are you educated? Have you an injured heart? Have you a purified brain? Do you believe in truth? Are you alone? Do you seek problematic truth, solvable truth, real magic? Are you a secular person? Do you believe in democracy?
If your answers are YES…
You have a poetic mind. You are the reader of poetry. You are the real minority in the world.
Keep patience. The earth is moving. It is proved that new history is created by the minorities.
Bengali author and poem writer. He lives at Nabadwip, India. He is not a popular author. But he is an author of them who have wounded big hearts and high thinking brains.Founder: 1. Nabadwip Sahitya Samaj 2. Sara Bangla Little Magazine Editors and Writers Forum. 3. Shikshak Sudarson Goswami Smriti Sangsad. 4. Saraswat Bromho Sreeguru Mission.SANDIP GOSWAMI's Works:Written: 1. Twenty Five years in poetry (Kabitay ponchish Bachhor) 2. Poetry of Injured fire (Ahoto Aguner Kabita) 3. Universal Constitution (Sarbojanin Sangbidhan) 4. Hundred Thoughts and way (Eksho Sandipani o Path) 5. A Selected Collection of Bengali Poetry (Nirbachito Bangla Kabita) 6. Poetry of an Indian (English Version) 7. Epic of Time (English Version)Introduction & Assist: 1. Theater history of Nadia (Nadiyar Natyacharcha: Sekal - Ekal,1509 A.D - 2011 A.D) 2. Theater history of Nabadwip (Nabadwiper Natyacharcha: Sekal - Ekal)Bengali version
And with a gust of defeat; the future seems familiar. Has the oneness forgotten about me? The interconnectedness of futile Embellishments followed by straights of garbage, lack-luster trash, soul-less sirens of shit-laced spines, irrelevance, trains without brakes. Exposure, death, the
A philosophical question for anyone who has an idea. Imagine my hands are a set of scales. In my right hand I hold this crazy little thing called love. You can choose anything you want to place in my left
Strangers from incident, lies for distance, pitfalls of living infrequent, Rushes of sympathy pass over like fever sweat. In concurrent motion the wolves swarm on the lifeless carcass. Impending emotions fill the hole in my stomach, my chest continues to