Biography of Ratnakar Rout
I love literature, in particular the poems.I am a bilingual poet, a storyteller and an essayist.I write in my mother tongue 'ORIYA' and in 'ENGLISH'.Usually my essays are based on poetry and present social issues.I am an ameture writer as my proffesion is something else.But creative writing is my passion.I have been writing poems etc. for last thirty years in spite all my other engagements.During this long period, I have written around 800poems,50 shortstories and many essays which are published in different periodicals and journals.Six poetry collections, three shortstory collections and one book on essays on poetry have been published so far by different publication houses.I love literateurs, poets as my family members and find pleasure and utmost satisfaction in their company and also interacting with them.I would request earnestly to all fellow members and guest visitors to read my poems and offer their valuable comments and suggestions so as to encourage and guide me for writing more and more better poems in future.I do not create poetry rather my innerself compels me to write down something at times and that is what the poetry is for me.
Ratnakar Rout's Works:
1.BISARNA PHAGUNA[ANTHOLOGY OF POEMS IN ORIYA]
2.ABASANNA APARAHNA[ ANTHOLOGY OF POEMS IN ORIYA]
3.SARISRUPA O ANYANYA KABITA[ANTHOLOGY OF POEMS IN ORIYA]
4.PUNASCHA SAMUDRA [ANTHOLOGY OF POEMS IN ORIYA]
5.TUMA TUMA BHABA[ANTHOLOGY OF POEMS IN ORIYA]
6.SHABDA [ANTHOLOGY OF POEMS IN ORIYA]
7.MICHHA BISHWASA [ANTHOLOGY OF POEMS IN ORIYA]
8.PRATIMA O ANYANYA GALPA[STORY COLLECTION IN ORIYA]
9.BOUDI[STORY COLLECTION IN ORIYA]
10.SHESA CHITHI[STORY COLLECTION IN ORIYA]
11.KABITAR KATHA[ESSAYS ON POETRY]
Ratnakar Rout Poems
Is It The Way
A Jawan deployed to curb insurgency was abducted and later on found brutally strangulated by the insurgents The mutilated body was seen deserted in the desolate jungle path He was the lone earning member of a poor farmer's family
He had not seen him nor with him there was any interaction But the tabloid editor went on publishing malicious articles
The septuagenarian woman was seen from the den Peeping outside through the dilapidated fence It could not escape the eye of the curious journalist Who immediately proceeded to the shelter of the old lady?
We were together for some time He was a good friend but a bad family man He had his own rules in life. Thus, did not care to take up anyone's advice
London Bridge In A Stranger's Eye
Three and half decades past a boy in far East at the shore of Bay of Bengal
A dilapidated house With crumbled roof And damaged walls Is standing abandoned
Mob rush every where Entice the onlookers Swelling up Crowd in the sands
For last couple of days I have an impetus to ponder over Peculiar obsession. Any one questions me or not
She was like a serene blooming flower When misfortune befell on her Now she is dwindling in confusion to know What is her identity? A Cambodian or Indian
A Dead Man Walking
I suspect whether I am alive or dead At times, I feel, I am dead, at times alive I live alike the three monkeys of Mahatma Since long, I have closed my eyes
First Touch Of Love
The unkind scorching ray of the cruel summer sun made lives on earth measurable The unbearable sufferings of the people was alike the condition of the climbing fish
Every Cloud Has A Silver Lining
The cloud covered the midday sky like a blanket It was dark almost everywhere The vibrant sun dared to smile through the thick cloud Alike a daring brave man moves ahead
Are You Still There
It is a precious gift to the world A stream of gratitude emanates From my heart When I watch her moving
A black curtain is spread Night grows to attain puberty Darkness embraces everything around Dreams appear and conquer many.
Merry Go Round
Who knows the longevity of the earth?
May be million of years have passed.
Million of years still to cover
Span of life on earth is like a tiny dot
As if a pebble on the shore of time.
One who starts from a point?
Unconsciously reaches to the
Same point again