March 29, 2024
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*ମାନବିକତା ବନାମ ସ୍ୱାର୍ଥପରତା –ରିଙ୍କୁ ମେହେର*
*ସହର ସୁନ୍ଦରୀ କ’ଣ ଗାଁ ର ମହକ ବୁଝି ପାରିବ–ଟିଲି ମଲ୍ଲିକ*
ବାପାମାଆ ମାନେ ଏବେ କୁଆଡେ ଭାରି ଅଦରକାରୀ–ବାଦଲ ପଲେଇ
*ଗାଁ ର ପାଣି ପବନ, ଉଚ୍ଚ ଶିକ୍ଷିତ ବ୍ୟକ୍ତିଙ୍କ ଲାଗି ଲାଞ୍ଛନା-ସୋନାଲି ନାୟକ*
“ଉଷ୍ଣ ଅପରାହ୍ନ” ଆଜିର ସମାଜକୁ ଏକ ଶକ୍ତ ଚାବୁକ- ଝୁନୁ ଦାସ
ଆଧୁନିକତାର ଅନ୍ଧ ପୁଟୁଳି-ପୂଜାରାଣୀ ଦାସ
ସମୟର ମୂଲ୍ୟ ମାନବର ମାନବିକତା ଓ କର୍ତ୍ତବ୍ୟ -ଅରୁଣ ଡାକୁଆ
*’ମୃତ୍ୟୁ ସର୍ବଗ୍ରାସୀ’ ଏକ ସ୍ୱତନ୍ତ୍ର ଉପସ୍ଥାପନା- ଶାଶ୍ଵତୀ ନନ୍ଦ*
“ଉଷ୍ଣ ଅପରାହ୍ନ” ଏକ ଆକଳନ- ତୃପ୍ତିମୟୀ ରାଉଳ
ସମ୍ପର୍କର ମାନେ(ଆଲେଖ୍ୟ ରଚନା)- ପ୍ରିୟଙ୍କା ପ୍ରିୟଦର୍ଶିନୀ ସ୍ୱାଇଁ
Allusions Of Longing–Manoj Kumar Panda
ALLUSIONS OF PELLUCID–Manoj Kumar Panda
Allusions Of God’s Legacy–Manoj Kumar Panda
ALLUSIONS OF MY ROUTE –Manoj Kumar Panda
ALLUSIONS OF MY CLOSED EYES–Manoj Kumar Panda
ALLUSIONS OF TEARDROPS-Manoj Kumar Panda
ALLUSIONS OF FORTUNE–Manoj Kumar Panda
Our Volunteers For Suryodaya Shanti Soumitri Sammilani -2023
ALLUSIONS OF TENDENCIES – Manoj Kumar Panda
ALLUSIONS OF SHINE- Manoj Kumar Panda 
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*ମାନବିକତା ବନାମ ସ୍ୱାର୍ଥପରତା –ରିଙ୍କୁ ମେହେର* *ସହର ସୁନ୍ଦରୀ କ’ଣ ଗାଁ ର ମହକ ବୁଝି ପାରିବ–ଟିଲି ମଲ୍ଲିକ* ବାପାମାଆ ମାନେ ଏବେ କୁଆଡେ ଭାରି ଅଦରକାରୀ–ବାଦଲ ପଲେଇ *ଗାଁ ର ପାଣି ପବନ, ଉଚ୍ଚ ଶିକ୍ଷିତ ବ୍ୟକ୍ତିଙ୍କ ଲାଗି ଲାଞ୍ଛନା-ସୋନାଲି ନାୟକ* “ଉଷ୍ଣ ଅପରାହ୍ନ” ଆଜିର ସମାଜକୁ ଏକ ଶକ୍ତ ଚାବୁକ- ଝୁନୁ ଦାସ ଆଧୁନିକତାର ଅନ୍ଧ ପୁଟୁଳି-ପୂଜାରାଣୀ ଦାସ ସମୟର ମୂଲ୍ୟ ମାନବର ମାନବିକତା ଓ କର୍ତ୍ତବ୍ୟ -ଅରୁଣ ଡାକୁଆ *’ମୃତ୍ୟୁ ସର୍ବଗ୍ରାସୀ’ ଏକ ସ୍ୱତନ୍ତ୍ର ଉପସ୍ଥାପନା- ଶାଶ୍ଵତୀ ନନ୍ଦ* “ଉଷ୍ଣ ଅପରାହ୍ନ” ଏକ ଆକଳନ- ତୃପ୍ତିମୟୀ ରାଉଳ ସମ୍ପର୍କର ମାନେ(ଆଲେଖ୍ୟ ରଚନା)- ପ୍ରିୟଙ୍କା ପ୍ରିୟଦର୍ଶିନୀ ସ୍ୱାଇଁ Allusions Of Longing–Manoj Kumar Panda ALLUSIONS OF PELLUCID–Manoj Kumar Panda Allusions Of God’s Legacy–Manoj Kumar Panda ALLUSIONS OF MY ROUTE –Manoj Kumar Panda ALLUSIONS OF MY CLOSED EYES–Manoj Kumar Panda ALLUSIONS OF TEARDROPS-Manoj Kumar Panda ALLUSIONS OF FORTUNE–Manoj Kumar Panda Our Volunteers For Suryodaya Shanti Soumitri Sammilani -2023 ALLUSIONS OF TENDENCIES – Manoj Kumar Panda ALLUSIONS OF SHINE- Manoj Kumar Panda 

LETTER FROM THE FRONT — Roula Pollard

LETTER FROM THE FRONT

 

Mother,

this war has changed my feelings

my mind and lips find no answer

two hundred days fighting in foreign lands…

how many streets and cities will swim in blood?

 

Who knows, how many more corpses we will collect?

If two hundred times more surgical bombs we send

to kill and destroy many thousands of suspicious targets,

innocent children playing in the streets

people unprotected, old mothers

victory never counts lives lost

life bereft of love and mercy, what life is this?

 

Do I live in hell?

War condemns my enemy and me

I live in my blind mind,

In my blindness I fight in ghost cities

without free will

what is my life’s meaning?

Do I understand the world’s thirst for blood?

 

Is life its carnivorous spirit?

It seeks an answer from you and me?

It would be different if?

How many ifs?

I know, each exists in one’s own desert

alone fights one’s own battles

May be nothing is meaningful at present

 

but you, my far away mother, my homeland,

if for a second  the world’s war spirit changes,

if  the world starts  from the beginning

if our world could live without hate,

if we change life’s direction, mother,

if I refuse to kill unknown enemies,

in this desperate land of my heart…

 

If we learn to understand the killing instinct, we learn to understand that life is sacred.

 

© Roula Pollard

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