Manju

Manju has been working for nearly six years in various areas related to software technology be it content or business development, recruitment or simply writing for the various portals. She has sometimes had success sometimes not but computers are her passion and so is writing. 

"Creativity is a passion which can find expression through any medium I have found it through the use of the Internet."

Manju has been an achiever of sorts because after being a homemaker for nearly a decade she decided to gain some computer skills and make a career out of it. Some of her achievements are mentioned below. Presently, she is working as an IT recruiter and also as a writer. 

•  Negotiated with a state government on an E Governance project, negotiations still going on.

• Developed important clients for the company and gave the company a focus and from Zero value gave it returns in a span of three months.

• Successfully placed candidates in various reputed call centers in and around Delhi and Noida.

• Successfully headhunted candidates for a client in Australia.

• Generated content for ER & DCI NOIDA for its Hindi encyclopaedia on the web.

• Developed content for an HR training CD ROM for Bhilwara group (Resonance in Management)

This is a poem which is dedicated to women who have found their calling in being fearless and challenged society to empower themselves as entrepreneurs and become successful in so doing.

What Am I

     I am none other than the member of the human race

    Known as the fairer sex,

    With unfairness to my credit by none other than the better half of our race….

    Who dominates me down centuries' old memory lane.

(2) Today I have stepped into the twenty first century,

     but agony persists...

     I am an object of ridicule, of revenge and of apathy 

    Either by choice or not bringing enough dowry.

    Wedding bells scare me...

    As though it’s the drumbeat of death!

   " Is it my husband in the guise of an Executioner?"

   The plight of my sisters is a sight not to be witnessed

   No self respecting entity would venture by day or by night

   Where bodies bare and disease abound

   A woman is of no consequence at all.

   I am framed and revered with essence and candles…..for what?

   Only to be raped in the dark corners of an alley…

   By alley cats who pretend to be saviors of human kind.

(3) if I am to be the Durga astride a tiger

     Why am I so forlorn

     Burdened with abuse and slavery.

     If I am Laxmi, The fountain of joy

    Why do I lie in tatters

    Sell myself for two square meals a day

    Everyone may not be a Joan of Arc...Rani of Jhansi 

    Or for that matter Indira Gandhi.

    Let my honor be my armor not paramour

    Let me be a model of dignity.

    Let, me lay the foundation of society where I live free and breathe free, 

    Let me be respected not as a goddess but as a progressive human being

If you like her work, tell her so ! Write to her at binay_dubey@yahoo.com

Sahana Roy

now twenty five, writes poetry in both Hindi and English since her childhood. Many of her poems are published in local newspapers. She gets regular invitations from the All India Radio, Jamshedpur Centre, to recite poems. Her poems are recorded and thereafter broadcasted. Being a student of literature, she has a deep love for the subject and is very  keen on reading and hearing others compositions too.

She has participated in various poetry sessions in her town organized by literary groups. Recently an English magazine called “BARNALIâ€� has been launched where one of her poems has been published among with various other poetic compositions of other poets. 

Below is one of her composition : 

ZINDAGI.... 
Zindagi kabhi geet hai, aur kabhi hai ghazal, 
Raahi badta hai manzil ki or Kabhi dhoop khilti hai, 
kabhi milti hai kawal. 

Mausam badalte rahtein hain, 
Insaanon ke iraadein bhi, 
Kahin kasme hain kisiki wafaon ki, 
To kahin tut jaatein hain pyar bhare waadein bhi, 

Kuch lamhe aatein hain ,hasta hai w oh 
To kabhi rula jaati hai kisi ki yaadein bhi 
Meri maano jahan jeeevan hai, Wahin uljhan hai, 
Magar, Socho to hai phir bhi kitna saral 
Yun hi guzarta hai kitna waqt 
Aashiyan ki talash mein, 
Tanhayi mein katta hai yowan, 
Saathiya ki aas mein 
Mil jaata hai sab kuch, par nahi milta sukun maan ka, 
Har mouke ka intezaam to kar letein hain magar 
Khayal hi nahi aata kabhi apne kafan ka, 
Chhod hi jaana hai sab kuch yaar, 
Chahe kutiya ho, ya ho mahal. 

If you like her work, tell her so! Write to her at Jimut_Roy@ctcindia.co.in 

Jaspreet Kaur

Completed her first year from Khalsa college, Delhi University, Jaspreet loves communicating with people.

What is Love........?

Sitting in the park.....recalling my love
i see birds flying.......hear them chirping
but their chirping is not less than a symphony to me........
i feel wind blowing..........
but it is not less than a cool breeze kissing my cheeks.......
i see the trees swinging..........
but it is not less than a cheerfull dance to me.....
i see kids playing............
but it is not less than sheer innocence being moulded into emotions..........
i see old couples sitting......
but its not just they are sitting.......
they are holding each others hands n
promising to be together forever n ever
as they have been since their endless beginning........
i see the eternal promise to keep their heavenly relationship go on n on.......
i see the contentment n happiness that
they have always been giving to each other......
without any expectationz.......
i see their worldly painz
vanishing just by the touch of their hands........
its love........true love.....selfless love.....
seeing love all around.........
god is overwhelmed n it starts raining..........
i see everyone leaving the park.........
to get home......dry n safe
i too get hold of my purse n
make a move having captured the precious moments n visionzz
in my eyez.....heart n soul........
but
sumthing pleasant catches my eyes n
i stop
i stop to see a boy n gal getting all wet in the rain
i hear the unspoken words they say to each other..............saying.......
lets get wet in this rain of love n moist our dry soulzzz
with love that will keep us alive forever......
n till we r alive....we are together forever........
i see them living their silliest dreamzzz n wildest fantacies..............
in just those short lived but long remembered moments......
..........................
i try to recognise their pretty faces.............
n to my surprise!!!!!!!!!!!!!
its me n my man..........
i close my eyez n
cover my face with my hands......
when i open my eyez.........no onez around............
its only me n the love inside me............
the love whom i breathe for......
the love whom i can die for.........
i feel
no grass is green without love............
no sunshine is warm without love...........
no moon is soothing without love............
everything is nothing without love......................
i smile in the best way i can n move on..........
do u feel the same?
if yes........u r in love.........
if no..........ur true love awaits u.............
just open ur heart n soul.........n stretch ur hands out...............

To Be or Not To Be???

I wake up in the morning......
out of the world of my dreamzzz............my fantacies
i decide to be the best.......
if not the best.....
better than the rest............
n even if not better........
atleast equivalent to the rest............
i start giving it a try.....
but to ppl........
why doest it always seem dry?
i try to spread laughter......
but is it what ppl r really after?
i try to give n not take....
but is it really enough for everyone's sake?
above all the dark smoke......
i try to rise..........
getting rid of it alone........n leaving the smoke behind..........
but is it really wise?
though ppl escape problems........
like bumbling bees........
but is it really going to bring peace?
i try to spread love n compassion............
but is it really now days, oh so fassion?
love for most is lust.........
n their minds n souls rust........
i try to help the week........
but is it really what they need?
sum want to have short lived feasts.......
n sum r in a competition to be better beasts.........
world is full of good n bad..........
at the end of the day.......
i stand in front of a mirror........n question myself.....
To Be or Not To Be???

If you like her work, tell her so! Write to her at jazpriet_princess@yahoo.com

Diya Ghosh

Pursuing her MBA from IIPM, Diya is a graduate in Political Science from Kolkata University.

Her aim is to become a part of an organisation so as to use her skills and knowledge to realize the futuristic goals of it. Her strengths include effective communication skills, creative skills and human relations skills.

She enjoys putting down her thoughts and ideas in the form of poems and creative writing.

Read some of her poems:

THE STORM

Days were bright, moments were dew,
Desires unlimited fresh and new,
Struck my mind now and then,
Felt like life was with me then.

Drank my life to the lees,
Sailed my boat in the untamed seas.
All is silent after the storm,
Time is still all is calm.

Now I sit on the shore.
Waiting to sail even more,
No more! No more for me,
Life is now a Dead Sea.

DEAR FRIEND………

Dear friend ….
Life was beautiful when you were with me
My comments your arguments,
Our nick – knacks made my each day spent with you
Studded with twinkling stars.
Now when you are not with me,
I look back upon the memories of the yesteryears
I feel sad
But my heart smoothens at this thought
That miles away you are some where there for me

MISSING YOU…

When in a sad melancholic mood do I lye,
When all the essence of mirth in me dies,
A single thought of yours
Brings a smile on my lips and a tears to my eyes,
Love do I have to tell you the reason why?

If you like her work, tell her so! Write to her at deah_02@hotmail.com

Aziel Karthak

Currently working for a magazine called the Companion for pet lovers, which is the first of its kind in India. Aziel is also pursuing a degree from The Writer’s Bureau in Manchester, through correspondence.

He has vast experience and has written features on interesting topics and handled celebrity interviews.

THE FLIGHT OF THE OLD EAGLE

He hobbled across the scorching rocks As a younger one couldn’t help scorn
His feet were weary; his wings were tired His body would not last long
His talons frail, his vision weak He would seek one final flight
Like the days of yore, with one graceful dive He would soar way out of sight.
And as he scanned the blue expanse He felt his sternest test
His fellows bristled with his now lost youth
It was time for his doubts to rest
He raised his head towards the light
His eyes, they glowed like fire
His soul, it craved to live again
His heart held a new desire. 
He recalled that fateful day one spring
When he took on an able prey
Who coiled a struck upon a flailing leg
And had haunted his to this day
But he had cheated death it seemed
For a purpose he couldn’t sight
And as his tribe watched closely by
His spirit gently took flight.
 
Swift and strong across the skies
Renewed, no longer lame
More blithe, more sure than ever before
He shattered the mortal realm
And as the rest witness the marvellous one
Break myths on his final run
They saw that perfect flight and his destined fate
To be one with the sun.

KALIMPONG: THE UNDISCOVERED SANGRI-LA.

Located in the northern part of West Bengal, Kalimpong is the quainter and arguably the more aesthetically beautiful version of Darjeeling. The hill town is an amalgam of the finest nature has to offer: rich foliage (orchids can’t grow better anywhere), panorama to leave you breathless and a pleasant climate. Then there is the decent sized river Teesta, which completes the enviable natural assortment.

The hill town was once an abode to the Lepcha tribe, who claim to have given the town its name. Kalimpong in the Lepcha language means ‘the ridge where we play’. But it is not an indisputable claim. The Bhutanese feel the right belongs to them. Kalimpong in their language stands for ‘Stockade of the king’s Minister’. It is, however, ironic that once the tentacles of the British Raj spread far and wide and eventually touched the hill town, the influence of the indigenous Lepchas started to abate; so much so that the tribe is a minority and on the verge of extinction. The place now smacks of old-age colonialism; several hundred-year-old edifices of British architecture lays testament to that.

But it would be a folly to disregard the benefits of colonialism. The best schools, most of them over a century old, were spawned during the British hold, and are now either affiliated to the West Bengal or the New Delhi Board of Education.

Kalimpong is timeless, almost literally. It is as much a place reluctant to step into the present as one whose simplicity and complete ostracization from the modern world makes civilization impossible to sieve through. Till recently, that is. Now as the twenty-first century dawns, modernization beckons. The influx of media through cable television and the Internet has whetted the palate of the modern teenager, who is more inclined to sway to the rhythm of the present age. Today, Nepali is the primary language of the fifty thousand strong populace; Tibetan is spoken too, while the Lepcha language and script have been reduced to relics. The food is an ethnic potboil of the best the three cultures have to offer, momos still head the preference charts. The climate is a dream and the hotels and tourist lodges are good enough to compete with the best more celebrated hill resorts have to offer.

So, that is Kalimpong. Its disinclination to move with the times has left itself as a paradox; its structures speak positively of the British Raj; it is a place wedged somewhere back in time and it will take a while to catch up to the present. But for those folks who are starting to view regular hill resorts as a monotony, Kalimpong remains a sumptuous getaway – a place that is still what nature intended it to be.

If you like his work, tell him so! Write to her at aziel78@rediffmail.com