ASSISTANT TEACHER OF OARI HIGH SCHOOL, KHANDAGHOSH, BURDWAN(WESTBENGAL) , INDIA. MASTER IN ENGLISH LITERATURE.
The young bard writes,
He soars high with the wings of poesy,
But soon the severe reality drags him in the dingy earth,
He cries and cries in deep pain and resentment.
When he becomes tired,
Someone Whispers to his ears,
"Don't cry, dear friend!
This is the tragic fate of all the poets,
But they can meditate deeply for a long time
And can successfully create a tranquil poetic realm only for themselves
From where no one can dethrone them then,
Take lesson from those eminent men and write."
'The superior thing is not at all a matter of worry for the great artist, but the inferior thing is a matter of real concern for him, as the eminent artist always knows he has to depict the inferior as the superior.'
'Sometimes I cry in extreme pain and agony, sometimes I smile in great joy and Pleasure, then at the end of the day I depict everything and find myself a successful man.'
'As I see the little thing, it looks very simple, but in reality its essence is very profound.'
I see the beautiful sky in amazement, but I want to see the most beautiful sky beyond it. That's why I write poetry with great energy and enthusiasm.
Read something new, think something new, write something new, then this world will be yours.
Beauty tries to flee from me, but it does not succeed, as my pure and refined soul is strictly glued to it.
It's beautiful when I see it, it's beautiful when I don't see it, beauty is the only identity of its great soul.
One bright candle can illuminate the entire world.
The young bard tries hard to depict the grandeur of the bright sun, but his pen always flees from him because the brilliant sun is mightier than his inexperienced pen.
It's good for me, it's good for thee and it's good for everybody; but then suddenly I see a little crack in it. This destroys everything as we become empty and desolate once again.
Perhaps it is good, perhaps it is bad. But the door is always open. That's an important fact.
The page of poetry is definitely the brightest.
The great flower blooms everyday but very few can see it.
Yesterday you failed, today you have also failed. But tomorrow? ......Always believe that you will surely succeed.
I laugh but you cry, then at the end of the day both of us are insignificant in the page of the great writer.