Arja Sadhukhan

Arja Sadhukhan Poems

Arja Sadhukhan Biography

Arja Sadhukhan has studied from Modern High School for Girls, Kolkata, likes to pen down her thoughts in the form of verses as well as short stories in her free time. She aspires to be an author someday, is an independent thinker, self-made poet and connoisseur of all that is original, creative and artistic.)

The Best Poem Of Arja Sadhukhan

In The Starlight

I stood by the haze of the night`s soaring mist,

The haze of dreams, hopes, yet never getting the gist,

Of the purpose of this life, materialistic and mundane,

When I saw them lugging out the burdens by a crane.


Them, the city construction workers toiling in the night`s freezing cold,
Undiscouraged, unperturbed by the luxuries of excuses that I behold,

I, the so-called privileged member of the society,

Encased, enwrapped in the preheated glass rooms of upper class propriety,

For they know their purpose, their aims galore,

To break their backs over the night`s demanding chore,

To make the roads safer for us, to improve the city`s infrastructure.



I saw the young enthusiastic youth, lured by the promise of daily sustenance,

Enter the gas-chambers of the city`s sewer channels,

The poisonous emerald fumes never interrupting his foray into those tunnels,

For he must fulfill the very needs of his duty,

Where every slip of step can land him with a mortal injury,

Careful, yet not cowardly, taking innumerable risks,

Operating the re-construction mechanisms with actions brisk.



Why, then can`t we, do our bit, and improve the other spheres of our troubled environment?

Quench the thirst of knowledge that illiteracy provokes,

The poverty, bloody revolutions, terrorism, the hatred that communal barriers evoke,

The prejudices, the mistrust, the injustice that the evil forces invoke.

The discriminations, be it gender, caste, socio-political, designed-

To haunt the very crevices of our own ‘independent' mind,

Or the very superstitions and hypocrisy that nests in the shrouded, glossed-over slate of societal history.

It doesn't take a Poirot or a Holmes to solve this disturbing mystery
.
The secret to happiness is simple and lies in the very core,

Only if not overlooked by the apple-eater and thrown into the depths of ‘mythical' folklore.

So, I harbour a promise to the society, whom I owe my own little services, even if in fractions,

Overlooked often, in the light of taking things for granted, assumptions and presumptions,

The expectations of receiving but none dedicated to the act of giving,

I will carry out the role of a good Samaritan, injustice unforgiving,

Blend the elements of duty with the power of change and progress,

Eliminate the wrongs, uphold the rights, remove the stimulants of unnecessary stress,

The root of all evils, misunderstandings, avarice and wars,

Hence, that day, as I came of age, I welcomed adulthood and I reached for the stars.

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