Dr. Ratan Bhattacharjee is a well-known Indian-English writer who has to his credits more than 200 articles on contemporary issues of society and literature. He has done his Ph.D. in Amercan literature and specialised in the study of Theodore Dreiser and F.Scott Fitzgerald. His book 'F.Scott Fitzgerald: The Quest for Meaning and Pattern' has been acclaimed internationally. He is a regular contributor to Merinews.com.
He has 27 years of teaching experience at the UG and PG level in different phases of his career in Vidyasagar University, Rabindra Bharati University, Bangabasi Evening College, Mankachar College and Gangadharpur College.
At present Dr. Bhattacharjee is the ... more »
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Ratan Bhattacharjee Poems
Anger is a hydra -headed demon A demon beating its furious wings a volcano belching out fiery lava a gloomy sky cracking thunders
Haiti: Under the Bricks Buried Alive
I was lying under the heap of bricks One two, ten, fifty, hundred, thousands... I could not cry any more They all fell upon me one by one
I am lonely
I am lonely Even though one cannot tell I am reaching out Why I don’t know
But I Miss You Most When You Dont Miss M...
But I Miss You Most When You Don’t Miss Me…. When the sky becomes crimson red I miss u when the apple turns red from green in Kashmir
I LOVED you so much
Dont know why I loved YOU but its true I LOVED you..... So much love for you in my heart All the birds in the sky could not sing it out
Haiti After The Tremors
All on a sudden The earth cracked, Things fell apart And the centre cannot hold
Every Sunrise Is Varied Like A Kiss
I kissed none in my whole life Not even my wife Nobody kissed me all my life Not even my wife
When I will die My memory will disappear like dunnest smoke in the air Sorrow does not last
God Met Me Last Night
Last night God met me on the street He said, 'I'll give you a good job in the States' He wanted to know if I wanted more I said 'yes'.
The wild flames of fire Has engulfed us all Bricks, mortars, stones All things from the roof did fall.
It was a new Sunrise
I waited amid the roar To let you know about the shore You and I trod all alone
I Wait For Your Mail
I waited, I waited and waited long... And hoped the mail would reach me and enter the channels of my ear like a song......
Waiting is a word Waiting is a feeling Waiting is friendship A floating ship
I Saw in Your Eyes pink, pink rose
When you leave me I feel wounded, uneasy and yet unshaken I feel sad, unhappy but never forsaken.
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Anger is a hydra -headed demon
A demon beating its furious wings
a volcano belching out fiery lava
a gloomy sky cracking thunders
a CSTC bus rushing on a smoky road
in the wintry evening
Anger is emptiness or losing
A girl being robbed of her angelic infancy
a nonagenarian mother denied her home
a lost child crying for its parents in the crowded local train
a child that loses her doll
Anger is the foamy sea writhing with pain
The sea that rolls its waves to knock the barge
Or the sapless champak losing its petals
Or a hilly town ...