Category Nitusmita Saikia

Bumblebee!

Lifeless ! Object of ignorance , A lie to self and A truth undone! Not a journey of few inch , Not the linen decides the dream, Needs need to be there Being alive ; being beggar. No wonder, my bare body is dirty & filthy, For, Life is in it’s wild wings, And I am the bumblebee. Elegant truth sharing, You get clothes against life And I! I have little flesh that beats without

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SUCCESS – AN ACCIDENT OR A SURE FIRE; A brief sketch!

SUCCESS – AN ACCIDENT OR A SURE FIRE! An article By Nitusmita Saikia We all know every human being aspire to be successful. This aspiration may germinate at the very beginning of life or at anytime of one’s inner self awakening. Important thing is that do we get success always or become successful? And if it is no, then why does it so? Before moving further on the subject, I would like to drag your

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The Farmer!

As we climbed his shoulder, We learn to see the height of the sky, It’s his finger that strengthen our feet, And we learnt the miracle being attached to the earth, Its father; the farmer of life, Secret watchman of our night to keep us alive! Always in his eyes, Dwell a dream of golden farm just like my mother see, He is the co traveller of her, As they promised to die together Farmer

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I want to, Reach a beach, listen to the lullabies of lapping waves, Let them pierce through your heart, And then let you errupt to be a song of twilight, Let them hold and embrace your tears. Walk across the street, To see your country site, And want to let them shoot you for me, To sing the verses of your life, And let all listen to the story of a perpetual fight, When you

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Dream for Dawn!

Dream for Dawn!

Mother! Time to pen down my dream again, A dream! Beautiful and stretch of happy moments, A story telling dream, Story of courage; tale of sacrifice, A dream of a life, Your life! Part of your life shared with me, Until my dream gets broken, Unto my realization of truth, Truth of death that succor you During the period of bedridden body;   Sorry mother, I can’t write more than this for today.  But I

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The Daily Chores of Corruption

The Daily Chores of Corruption

A burning question that gives rise to many more other questions like, “What is the need to be corrupted? Why bribery! Who are to be convicted of both?” If we see all developed countries of the world, we find there, some beautiful things with the other basic requirements which are responsible for their growth. They are not only the wealth, investments, infrastructures but most importantly they have an organized force of very honest and hardworking

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Mankind Beneath Corruption..!

Mankind Beneath Corruption..!

Sigh!Souls have turned into dust and ash, Holy pages of wisdom are now lifeless. Peace! Peace! Peace is yelling beneath, The grave of mankind, Chaos in all around, From men to systems; babies to veterans, Plays of vice and lies, In its bloody reign!    Thus, A fatal blueprint on work, Everyone is stealing each other’s rights! Who will get a peaceful night? Men get sold in the market of money and power, We are

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Is the modern woman really empowered?

Is woman empowerment, a reality or hype? Woman empowerment!   This is a critical issue that has been recently highlighted over the old patriarchal setup.  The old setup is, in turn getting the world to think about the woman and empowering her to become aware of her own value. Women of the new millennia are evolving as achievers in every aspect of life, whether it is sports to politics, art and culture or industry, social work

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Oh’ dear woman…!

Oh’ dear woman…!

A nut in its atavistic quest, Look for old graveyards, Forgotten and fallen ones, As the millennial epic in progress, She needs now little more pages full of dust, Tales of suffering, and survival of women in the last. The days were to gather and plant, when the husky whispers of barefoot, rolling in search of roots and fruits, time has changed drastically but nothing new is there for her posterity, Still rolling in search

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To be alone

Budding experiences once; were, With a swelled venter and then; Moment arrived at fruitage time. Humiliating old thoughts and believes; Slogged through countless conflicts and consoles, Until the renewal! Now I prefer to be alone. After last forlorn attempt to be with all, Mirthful solitary to attribute to self! Reminds me often, About old scar of ignorance! Standing alone! Far from those who didn’t valued. Life is still in its meaning. Anticipating new bonds and

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From my Diary’s page!

From my Diary’s page!

Waiting until the heart quake Beneath my flash I yelled from the puddle of boiling blood, Stirring my thoughts, Perishing disappointment, I looked for a slith to have a breath, As I realized that I must live, I must not die, I must see what I am! A deadly journey killing my wise cells! Needs to come back to an end, I waited, went on waiting, Digesting all stale insights of mind, Untill the dawn,

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Can we wipe out corruption and bribery from our country?

Can we wipe out corruption and bribery from our country?

By Nitusmita Saikia A burning question gives rise to many more other questions like, “What is the need to be corrupt?, Why bribery?, Who are to be convicted for both?” If we see all developed countries of the world, we find there are some beautiful things with the basic requirements which are responsible for their growth. They are not only the wealth, investments, infrastructures, but most importantly they have an organized force of very honest

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Light in opalescent mist !

Light in opalescent mist !

Light in opalescent mist ! Beneath the parasol of pride and greed, The fuss of bloody hunting in their eyes, Vermin’s are jutting out; Greasy and shining! Stains of murky deeds surrounding, So called treasure for progeny. The roulette of life goes on orbiting meaninglessly, pernicious barter goes on in the arena; for Corpse of filthy existence lays everywhere! Dumb pebbles stooped down there to witness the time, slipping away in the flow of civilization.

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My thoughts!

My thoughts!

An urge to hide hurts, In the silence of monument valley! Secret openings had been bricked up within, That’s the ancient pride ever in race. Dissected by the pebbles, the flow gets torn here and there, A puddle of disappointment! between the breakfast and dinner time, mirthless smiles still slithered away, as the pride approached, Few drops of water naked in sunshine, a milky thread falls from the mountain. Breaths die mechanically in a vacuum,

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The Odd!

The Odd!

An odd in the cynical texture of Social makeover, I am told to act hypocritically; to follow hypocrisy, I get stumbled upon those thoughts, Everyday spinning around like the micro organism of disease, Infectious for humanity!   Behind the mask of gentleness, Who knows about those pretending qualities? A trap of high academic records, A trap of sweet soft spoken words, Lurking behind all politeness flavour, A deadly motive to suck you for own benefits.

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Spirituality : Knowing oneself !

Spirituality : Knowing oneself !

Please allow me to begin toward our topic of Spirituality with a short story from my own journey. “She gave me a wink and I reciprocated, seeing in her eyes and feeling her need to communicate something to me. I had no difficulties living with my puppy. Jeni was with me for two years, a beautiful and happy part of my life, until the day she left me forever after suffering unknown sickness.” Before she

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“Hiatus”

“Hiatus”

“Hiatus” Torn being awakening soul, And interrupted memories are melting As if graveyard mist! Chasing ritzy delights of life, Imprisoned in words, Of rises and falls! Emptiness since an epoch! Barren pages in quest of the missing, Silky loin in her dawn! Torn being awakening soul! copyrights reserved (c) 2017, 25th March nitusmita saikia (published)  

Death everywhere!

Death everywhere!

Masterpiece! Emitting lusterless ray of light, The hurricane lamp paints a monochrome of shadows; old trembling hands of Picasso is making graphics of worn out lives under the thatched roof. Amidst those droplets of light and patches of darkness, she looks for her mirror of which she gets scared now a days. Her face she finds ugly in daylight as she burns like unwanted weed among fleshy swelling wheat. She trembles; will she be able

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Dream of Golden farm!

Dream of Golden farm!

Pair of hazel eyes Beserk to sail, dear! Through your eyes, Those pair of hazel eyes! Tickling my soul, Sprinkling greenish brown seeds of love.Hue of Autumn eve plays there, As if the ripen field of my exudation In the valley of mountain, For I am the solitary reaper of your eyes. Those pair of hazel eyes! A poem of hazel dreams! Dream of golden field of swollen wheat, As you flicked on and off

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A small talk with Mother!

A small talk with Mother!

letter to mother! Remembering your pleasant smile! Barely had it time to visit your face. I did understand, Life was not easy for you but, was special for all who were with you! You had been going on living your hope, Slogging through the notch of patriarchy, Never gave up! Had an arduous journey of life; you witnessed! And left a legacy of your experiences Wisdoms in my days that have to come! Hustle and

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often I hear them ! they live on the street.

often I hear them ! they live on the street.

“Dew on trodden grass” I can’t be dark nor shade blackness In their hungry, empty hollow eyes, Neither can I tear the veil That adorned their desires for life. Pretending to be anything; I hate most. Yet, a thin curve of my lips; the warmth The bonfire in their wintry night, That shines in their rainy, gloomy eyes. They always wait in the corner of the road, No doubt, for me only, I, with a

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let’s hear her story!

let’s hear her story!

‘Deflowered!’ She was happy to hold her hand An Amah’s hand, Since her fretful days were, Towards their pyre, For an end, End of pains. With her little mind still in bud, Was thoughtful, At the moment of leaving her Parents; Who were laden with rudeness of life. She remembered the speck of hope, In their gleaming eyes, For, Amah had told them that Their angel was going to a heaven. Witnessing an artistic hub

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Untold story!

Untold story!

Your torn cloth! An untold story itself, Plainly confined to the statistics, And sometimes to a sociology class, Or to a motivating lecture, Or to your heart! Being far from you, Often, You occupy my imaginations, And myriad thoughts. No doubt, you heartacheing pain, More then my understanding, Within malnourished body and pale skin, Many days without food, Many nights without sleep, The dampness of your eyes, In the purlieus of painful memories of life.

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Words for self!

Words for self!

Chains got broken, No more behind the iron bar Of patriarchy! Caged and tied within the entangled strands of society. For ages! behind the closed door, Darken wall sheltering your breath , Now falling down being fragile to hold your mad dash towards light, And sing dirges on pyre of your slavery. Sprouting era of freed existence , veils are unveiling, Echoing to the world, Words of revolution! Drizzling new thoughts and values on the

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