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Dr. Jayant Kar Sharma (born 08 January 1962) is a college lecturer.  He writes poetry and literary criticism. He also translates poems, short-stories, novels, drama etc. from Oriya to Hindi and vice-versa, and English to Hindi and vice-versa. . He writes criticism on literature. His approach towards literature is always progressive. Most of the time, he write comparative studies of various literature. He participated in 20the International Ramayana Conference - Tirupati-2004, 2nd International Ramayana Conference, Guwahati - 2005, 3rd International conference on story-telling, New Delhi-2007 and 3rd International Writers Festival-India - Agra -2007.

Address :  Deptt. of Hindi, Rourkela College, Sector-4, Rourkela-769002 (Orissa)
Phone :
0661-2471189, Mobile: 98611-68455  Email :


Life: A Search
Jayanta Kar Sharma

Can tattered clothes
ensure life to Avinash ?
A perennial question,
he ponders if life is possible…
in the layers of a cauli-flower!
can puffs of cigarette smoke
afford a better life…
it’s and or beginning ?
death’s journey begins
with the very birth
mother’s womb it’s source
the trap of death
and it’s consequences…
life exists
in death in life
and life in death .
The taste of forbidden fruit
brings pain and an end to man.
life gets lost
in the ego of Duryodhan,
looking for it
or in the self-betrayal of Yudhisthir,
in the lost womanhood of Draupadi,
and in the sweet flute-tunes
of lord Krishna.
What’s next !
if shades of life gets exposed
ego remains
expose life to unrealities
and uncertainties .
Beauty remains hidden
inside the shell of tattered clothes
a beautiful woman
carrying water pot looks back
staring at her beauty,
beauty lies not in the pot
but in her mortal body!
beauty pervades
with the fleeing of time.
Avinash retorts
yes , time is perennial
eternal and mighty.
Sun shines with warmth
like life illuminates with
aroma of beauty
life and its reflection
it is noticed in the bowl of watery-rice
to a tired husband
by his devoted wife.
Life’s search continues
since time immemorial
in Narcissuses’ mirror,
a reflection left inside
in the bedroom of Procostus.
A century’s fight
makes man not meet life,
remains unrealized
O’ life, no ray of hope,
no end to desires!
O’ lord, you searched
in the midst of whirlpool,
O’ friend
only by living a life
can we call it a life?
Lord Buddha would never
have kissed Buddhism,
obsessed by eternal beauty of Gopa!
I get submerged
in the ocean of beauty
and a burnng desire to name and fame.
Life’s possible in the very living,
possible in the burning incense sticks,
possible in the reunion between
lost son and mother,
lost husband and widow,
living and looking for life
for centuries together,
witnessing the river Niranjana
and the Eternal tree.

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