by Atul Chandra Sarkar
When he was alive,
We didn’t care,
When he’s no more,
We ask, is he there?
That was his table,
That was his chair,
That pen, that diary,
That solitary stare;
We all clung to Mom,
That wasn’t fair,
But to approach him,
We would rarely dare;
His love, his gifts,
Were always there,
Yet his heart, his mind,
He would never bare;
Tightly we held him,
In crowd and fair,
But his worries, and fears,
He would never share;
From stars in heaven,
He takes our care,
He’s in our hearts,
Forever he’ll be there.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Double Post Graduate in Philosophy and Sociology and LLB degree-holder, a Gold Medalist from Canning College, University of Lucknow, U.P. India. Presently engaged as Advisor (Industrial Relations) and Public Information Officer (Corporate) at Uttar Pradesh Rajya Vidyut Utpadan Nigam Ltd., Lucknow, Uttar Pradesh, India and is a Guest Faculty at Electricity Training Institute, Sarojini Nagar, Lucknow, Uttar Pradesh on the Right to Information Act, 2005. An Advocate registered with the Bar Council. Articles, poems and short stories have been published in popular National dailies like Pioneer, Northern India Patrika, Times of India, Campus Verse, Shaktivani, etc. A Blogger at Times of India's speakingtree and having a flair for oil painting. A democratic, liberal and humanist to the core.
Last updated June 23, 2016