Biography of Shouvik Roy
Born and brought up in kolkata, India.He is graduate in advertising from Fergusson college of creative sciences, Pune, cutrently an entrepreneur and director at Wizdumb in Pune.
Shouvik's love for writing had been unconditional since he was eight years old.Though poetry came later he finds to have solace in it.
https: //m.facebook.com/ShouvikRryanRoypoetry? refsrc=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.google.com%2Fm&_rdr
Shouvik Roy Poems
There is a scent, A very strong, poignant scent Of our glory days, a scent of Your white shiny skin on mine;
Let me be in the dark son, I shall sing a song For my beloved bride, A song not sung since ages long;
As I lie on my bed outstretched, Gazing at the covered up sky; Some voices strange I hear in my head, Sizzling, rumbling, laughing by
Innocence - An Autobiography
I don't know when I was born, Maybe when humanity didn't exist. I was lost, in the senses of the insentient beings; Always trying to find something.
There are things I haven't told you yet, Have I told you? That with you, the crowded streets Seem alleys of fallen leaves;
At St. Vagrant Road
I loved roads, A hobby since old times, Every road was known To me, broad roads, narrow roads,
May these be my last words; I am tired of telling my tales, You know not what grows inside; A storm of dread and deadly gales
Don'T Cry My Child
Don't cry my child, So what if you have lost today, And your dream didn't come true as you say, Remember always,
Without Your Permission
"You are riding on my nerves" You say, and push me away With your hands so divine, But little did you know,
I have lost you In a dark island Of lost hopes And dreams,
Just Lie Beside
Bare not, Just lie beside, For tonight I will not pounce
A Dream So True
Last night I dreamt of you, A dream so true, Where you
Once a walk down the empty street, Had me to see, A wonderful beauty; Ballerina Ethene.
Let me sit here for a while, For I have had enough of this digging. Digging hard, digging rough; And as I dig,
There is a scent,
A very strong, poignant scent
Of our glory days, a scent of
Your white shiny skin on mine;
A scent of the laughs and
The gazes we shared, and the
Six strings that lie on a corner.
There is a scent,