looking for genuine freelance writing assignments

Poems, stories, paintings and more by Sharmishtha Basu


In case you are not familiar with this theme of WordPress and are looking for my latest posts please check the column on right side of the post.

I often have one or more sticky posts that stay frigid while i keep adding fresh posts, sometimes my friends too get confused 🙂

Sharmishtha Basu


the list of my blogs in wordpress:

1. Sharmishtha Basu’s Poetries: http://mydomainpvt.wordpress.com : Mainly Poetries.
2. Thoughts: http://magicthought.wordpress.com : Stories mainly.
3. My cyber novels: http://mycybernovels.wordpress.com : novel, long stories, musings, cartoons etc
4. Window to my soul : http://window2mysoul.wordpress.com, PRIVATE BLOG
5. Sharmishtha Basu : http://sharmishthabasu.wordpress.com : My haiku, piku, lanturne, tanka blog.
6. Ethereal heights: http://etherealheights.wordpress.com- Celebrating peace and beauty.
7. Earth in black and white: http://earthinbw.wordpress.com – The real world.
8. Colours and words waltz: http://coloursandwordswaltz.wordpress.com – poetry and paintings.
9. Daintypetals: http://daintypetals.wordpress.com – PRIVATE BLOG
10.And I dreamed….: http://andidreamed.wordpress.com – portfolio…

View original post 495 more words



I have to face the truth,

I know I’ll lose you someday,

And so I know I have to somehow make every moment with you count…



My, future’s ahead of me,

Like a path winding into the horizons….

From your words and wishes, you whisper,

That my success is the only crown fit for your head…

Your utterances float in the air,

As the glistening tears sail your somber face…

You have nothing to fear,

I assure you, I’ll do all I can,

I refuse to give up,

Even when I know I’ve surpassed my dreams…



You’re living for me,

All of your wealth, your time, your insight,

And unbounded care,

Like a faucet to a cistern,

You give me everything,

I just have to ask… I know you’ll give me anything…


I’ve seen angels before,

Fair-skinned, supple beings… enthralling beauties…

But with every gesture,

Every prosodial advice,

Every stern verse, you re-define guidance,

You instill all that heavens deem right…


I’d hate to lose you now, lost as I am,

My antics still haven’t made you proud,

May my benign foolishness accord you no harm…


Hard-work is all that pays,

In this world, little is accorded to charm,

I know you’ll be gone someday,

I just pray you’ll live long enough to acknowledge,

That all your efforts were not in vain.



They possess vision, absent sight,

Minds woven with threads of vivid colors,

Dexterous hands, cheerful hearts,

They possess a gift, and yet they cannot see what they have,

They long for the things, to which you only close your eyes,

You have your precious mornings, the glowing sun,

You have your moon, the blur of stars,

A sky littered with celestial light…

All they have is the dark,

A silent blackness, shrouding every thought.



They live on the crumbs of our words,

Ordinary descriptions, igniting enchanted thoughts,

For them, the sea has a voice,

She speaks to their hearts, promising adventure amidst chaos and calm,

They listen – Libations to her charm.

The breeze of the Harmattan is not without its thoughts,

A contradiction of cold tales and arid fibs,

Only in their minds does such difference find a fit,

And yet they feel…they feel it and they know.



Roses have their thorns,

For them its contrast is more than enough,

For we all need the blessings to balance our faults,

Spike here, silk there,

They don’t have to see,

They are schooled by the stucco they confront…


Their every memory laden with knowledge and truth,

Life for them transcends the habitual burden of proof,

Their thoughts are an elixir for their ever youthful minds,

Interwoven with threads and seams dyed in ardor,

I dare say, the blind doth’ see color…




She’s a child, isn’t it too early to tag her a “BRIDE” ?

Its common sense, do you kill a calf because of its potential hide?

She’s still fickle, let her mind grow,

Give her brilliance the stage, and let her gifts show,

Trust, she’ll fail sometimes, we’re not all perfect,

She has a lot to learn… tutor her in the lore of life’s tenet;


How can the Shepherd slaughter his sheep, 

For hunger easily satiated by healthier meals?

Dignity, like gold, cannot be bought cheap,

For the people that we are, how can selfish desire over-rule Sanity?

How can we throw caution to the wind,

And let this storm of virulent insanity blow away sense of humanity?


She’s human, not a production line,

Leave her be, banish all thoughts of a lecherous pedophile, 

She’ll be a bride someday, wait till her time is keen,

Common sense….You don’t make nannies out of kids.

Don’t make a parody of nature’s design,

Homes are not made by girls made women at age 9,

Why trample the seed that will spout the fruits of tomorrow,

Why bother the land that nature was wise to leave fallow?

She’s one of us, why destroy the future of your uncertain tomorrow?



Freedom is bounded by the fences of fairness and conscience,

You’re only as free as the verity of the principles you uphold,

The girl child is our treasure to hoard,

Give freedom a chance, permit her to come of age,

Wine is only savored when it attains the gift of time,

The guidelines of reason are seen in the restrictions that confine desires undefined,

She is but a child…. Isn’t it too early to make her a bride? 





What’s it with dumb girls and smart phones these days?.

Its like adorning make up cos’ you’re ugly. The funny part is, its funny to everybody butyou.

Yes, yes I’m a hater. Girls are annoying. But we can’t do without them now can we?


But it gets better.

Imagine being so hot and sexy, and yet so deserted and lonely. Do I hear you say “nobody has it all”?

Perhaps so, but I want it all.

Yes everything. But, wait, don’t we all?



Ok now to couture and jeans culture of our age. Clothing lines everywhere. Lackluster modeling agencies and anorexic little girls that somehow pass up as “models”.

Oh this generation is a revelation of humanity’s humor. We’re looking so hard for

happiness and solitude, for good health and longevity in this miasmic cluster of metallic rock and rap, oxidants and “fast-life”(remember YOLO? “Imma ride till I die”?)


Really, who comes up with these things?…No Really.


Moving on…

A week ago, I ran into an old school classmate while trying to carefully avoid another. He kept talking, asking about school and yes, girls (chicks as he called them).

After about 30 minutes he was still on the same subject.

“So, who’s the latest? Gimme details. “


Don’t we have reasonable stuff to talk about anymore? Or did the previous generation

exhaust all the enlightening gist?

Anyway, I had to get away from this guy, politely, without hurting his, oh so sensitive   feelings. Easy, I set an alarm to go off in the next 3 minutes and when it does, I answer

It like it’s a phone call. My dad suddenly needs me at home to help with repainting the





We shake hands and exchange contacts. In synchrony we pretend to store numbers and promise to get in touch. Yea right, if pigs could fly right?


But that got me thinking, I, no we effortlessly put up this whole charade, no rehearsals, no scripts. Just plain old improvision.


 A model of the lie we now live as “Cool People”


But em, who are we kidding?


Your guess is as good as mine.


Nowadays, in a desperate need to be accepted into the fold of society youth, most of us will go to the ends of the earth. It’s funny ‘cos we all want the nice big houses in garden cities with rich nice folks as neighbors. We see the future but we lack the patience, or

will, or fortitude to reach for it.

In the end when all doesn’t go as planned, we look for the cause in circumstances and

Environmental limitations when we’re our own nemesis.


Can we end this ominous trend?…

I share the view that there’s a chance to save us all from ourselves….



You believe me don’t you?


The Paradox Of Talent

It’s alarming how suddenly life can lose its meaning. One moment you’re sky-high, the next you’re so deep down you wonder if you’re drilling.

    So much for dreaming….

Life cannot be all smiles, for how can rose be rose without its thorns?

True that, but sometimes, don’t you just feel some celestial force picking on you?

Picture this

You lose your job, sprain a wrist while clearing your desk, knock down a pregnant woman on your way out of the medic’s, and getting to the car park, find out your car’s been stolen?…

          Just another bad day?


Or just plain ol’ bad luck…

  Whichever suspect is finally indicted, there’s no denying the fact that there’s indeed some “force” behind it.

But how can we be sure that the villain behind bars is responsible for our sojourn down this wrong turn?

If life is this challenging, then how do some manage to find a haven?


Vic’s got a Rolls, and Nel’s got a Jag’,

My ford is from the 70’s and I have a crappy job, so I can’t keep up with the fad…


I peek around my shoulders, watching out for debtors, while every other chap smiles to the bank;


All my friends have houses and I’m still a tenant,

Sarah sings, Vanessa’s an artist and I’m the one with no talent…


So many sad stories from many promising youths.

After numerous massive failures, can we really start anew?

Our throes and trials in this age are colossal, unnerving and, almost impossible, but from this gloomy perception, is there really another view?



Sometimes to be all you can be, to achieve your lofty dreams, you just have to be you…


They say success is measured by fulfillment, but how many of us actually pursue our interests?

Some are born great artists and thinkers, poets, teachers, dancers’ bankers and singers…


But still, we drown in this melancholic sea of emptiness and recluse,

With no sense of direction, like a falcon lost from its aviary, with powerful wings, absent rectrix…


True devotion comes from the heart…So how can talent blossom, in a society where our insights are considered trash?

  How can history be history without the facts?


It appears, that in this age, a sub-conscious persecution of self is regnant.

Where talent is sidelined because of a rapacious desire to blend and fit in..

That ominous horizon where gifts and proficiency become a burden


The bitter truth remains, that life is a gestalt of good times and bad. The trials and woes we face can be likened to daily jogs of long distance athletes, or the many swing of lawn-tennis champions.

If waves do not siege a ship, how can its resilience be adjudged?



Stars will never shine without the emergence of the dark skies of night,

How can human essence exhume refulgence if not tested by the storms of life?


In the end, it’s all a state of mind. If we can all try to see the lesson in every strife and conflict with the seemingly sinister phase of life, if we can understand that everything, good or bad, happy or sad, happens so we can learn.

Every thorn has its beautiful roses. If we endure till the end, our heaven will definitely sprout out of this present hell.




Imperfect speech, impaired vision,

Incoherent ideas, distorted mission,

Underachievement, lack of self-worth,

Gloomy phrases that have somehow become part of diction.

A land of promise, flowing with milk and honey,

Now a desert, void of all but slain dreams, with members still rotting,

A life not so well lived, heights not attempted to be reached,

Gaps not assented to be bridged…


A beggar’s bony hands waiting to be filled,

The fertile land that was never tilled,

The truths that were never believed,

And lies embraced with glee…

Alone in desolations planet,

Feeding on failure’s diet,

Envy and pride, laziness and instant gratification,

The list goes on, and there’s no mention of greed or philandering yet,

A sorrowful end, a bitter story… the tale of an inchoate talent…