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Abhijit Sarmah
Goodreads Author
Born
in Dibrugarh, Assam
Website
Genre
Member Since
August 2012
URL
https://www.goodreads.com/abhijitsarmah
Abhijit Sarmah hasn't written any blog posts yet.
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Dying With A Little Patience: Poems
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published
2020
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The Voice Under Silence: Poems
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published
2016
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3 editions
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The Voice Under Silence : Poems
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* Note: these are all the books on Goodreads for this author. To add more, click here.
“Don’t I remember those rustic evenings, now
buried under a thick shawl of futile memories
when you and I, walked and talked
and melted into the lurid nightfall?
I do.”
― The Voice Under Silence: Poems
buried under a thick shawl of futile memories
when you and I, walked and talked
and melted into the lurid nightfall?
I do.”
― The Voice Under Silence: Poems
“The purpose of poetry is not to provide a solution or, say, to stop a war or prevent millions of people from dying, etc. Poetry can never do that. Poetry is all about keeping the dialogue alive. Poetry must bring forth, time and again, issues that need attention and are intentionally or unintentionally forgotten.”
―
―
“So old were you, Grammpa—
the last time I saw you, anaemic
You looked like the monsoon in my town.”
― The Voice Under Silence: Poems
the last time I saw you, anaemic
You looked like the monsoon in my town.”
― The Voice Under Silence: Poems
“The purpose of poetry is not to provide a solution or, say, to stop a war or prevent millions of people from dying, etc. Poetry can never do that. Poetry is all about keeping the dialogue alive. Poetry must bring forth, time and again, issues that need attention and are intentionally or unintentionally forgotten.”
―
―
“My town of clouds and river
Of terrifying minds and young dreams
Streets with some people
Good people smiling
Train tracks of dreamers,
High, happy, celebrating—
Us, themselves and the beauty.”
― The Voice Under Silence: Poems
Of terrifying minds and young dreams
Streets with some people
Good people smiling
Train tracks of dreamers,
High, happy, celebrating—
Us, themselves and the beauty.”
― The Voice Under Silence: Poems
“Don’t I remember those rustic evenings, now
buried under a thick shawl of futile memories
when you and I, walked and talked
and melted into the lurid nightfall?
I do.”
― The Voice Under Silence: Poems
buried under a thick shawl of futile memories
when you and I, walked and talked
and melted into the lurid nightfall?
I do.”
― The Voice Under Silence: Poems
“So old were you, Grammpa—
the last time I saw you, anaemic
You looked like the monsoon in my town.”
― The Voice Under Silence: Poems
the last time I saw you, anaemic
You looked like the monsoon in my town.”
― The Voice Under Silence: Poems
“It ends. Good things
always end terribly,
at dawn in his arms
wrapped, silently
or— late in the night
in unchartered apartments
or hotel foyers, over a
fight. It ends. Good things
always end terribly.”
― The Voice Under Silence: Poems
always end terribly,
at dawn in his arms
wrapped, silently
or— late in the night
in unchartered apartments
or hotel foyers, over a
fight. It ends. Good things
always end terribly.”
― The Voice Under Silence: Poems
