Biography of Debendra Majhi
The Poet is a Civil Servant presently posted in New Delhi in a crucial Ministry in the Federal Government of India. He has widely travelled around the globe. Though he aspired to express inner self since long, poem hunter provided an appropriate platform.Through Poems, he intends to share his observations and life-experiences with the people at large.
Debendra Majhi's Works:
IEC Strategy for Prevention and Control of HIV/AIDS among Truckers in India: Published by International Institute of Social Studies(IISS) , Hague & Erasmus University, Netherlands(2007-8) .Besides, many Poems and Research Papers also got published in National and International Journals/Magazines.
Debendra Majhi Poems
You look so mysterious, at the first glance, What you are, guessing has no chance, Simple, rustic, thatched huts, surrounded by palms, A Community haat, around a majestic dome! !
Let Us Breathe Again!
The Clouds of dirt Columns Emanates out of the ‘developed' earth, Throttling lives indiscriminately. As they ascend and join their smog kins,
The road to my village Is donned with Lines of plants and trees, Names of some I know
When Winter Melts
when winter tends to confluence with summer, frozen time melts down and spring springs up.
The Crab Catcher
It was the early dawn Horizon beyond recognition. The monsoon rains painted all hazy The crows still nest-crouched
She is nonagenarian now, Her heart bits slow. Lungs pump reluctantly, Cranial bones groan in pain,
Allegorical Tale Of Padmavati
She is Padmavati, Entrapped between collective honour And Individual Dignity.
The Instinctive Ego
The neo-diva of sensuality, Sense your empowered beauty, Overpower him tonight, With all your potent might.
Jackals' Calls At The Wee Hours.
I no more hear the jackals' long calls, At the wee hours or at the nights' fall. Neither do they sing spells at unison, As errand- boys of the rising sun.
When my village Braced with heavy downpour, Squally winds gusting Upto 60 Km per hour
କଅଂଳ ସକାଳର ସାଉଂଳିଆ ଖରା
ଧାନ ଉସୁନା ହାଣ୍ଡି ପରି କଳା ବଉଦର ବାରାତ୍ ଠାର ମାରିଲେଣି ବାମ୍ଫର ଭେଳl ସହ
Fly away the little bird the expanse of the winter sky before you.
Poetry Breeds At The Confluence
when our reciprocation Resonate with realizations Our insides Confluence with insights
The lantern is hanging from the parapet like a beehive It's wick trimmed up, Glass globe cleaned of soot
Science exults frosted exit
Conscience struggles for existence,
Reminiscent bee-line in the by lane
A Soul becomes victim of brain-drain.
Assured of belonging to the sole,
Wandered as a caravan without a goal.
Hovered, tossed around on pretext,
Neither text nor bonding with any context.