My first attempt in Acrylic Painting on Canson Paper.
WHAT A HIGH !!!!
India soars in economy,
India soars in technology….
Bright in the world scanner,
Indian Flag our proud banner.
As heads are held up in pride,
In cloud nine we Indians ride.
Indian techies shine bright,
When world of experts unite.
They who’re homeward bound,
Stand firm on patriotic ground.
Their efforts showed us the way,
Moon was just a glance away.
The symbol of romance,
Exclusive in its stance.
Moon defines all that’s pretty,
She is the symbol of beauty.
Now she is a commitment,
A symbol of our achievement.
Hail the Chandrayan 3 crew,
As India enters space age new.
All hail the ISRO champions,
Beware of the developed scions.
Wanting the moon was fantasy,
But today it is a stark reality.
Partha Chakraburty
23.08.23
ICE SCULPTURES
So much left unseen,
Nature’s blue ‘n green.
Some hidden obscure,
In air nascent ‘n pure.
Light shines so bright,
Brown capped in white.
Reflections look so nice,
In streaks of floating ice.
Untouched and nascent,
Fearless and complacent.
Far from mankind terror,
Reflections in frozen mirror.
Beauty floats in the air,
Beauty floats on water.
Beauty draped is nature,
The Arctic Ice Sculpture.
Partha Chakraburty
16.09.23
SUNSET SOLACE
A tired sun calls it a day,
Shadows cast long and deep.
Sails up the sailors say,
Its time for the world to sleep.
Sun dips in scene sulime,
A smiling plunge into darkness.
Clocks tick to the end of time,
In a world devoid of happiness.
Sailor singing the blues,
Homeward bound at end of day.
Sky drapes in happy hues,
Sorrows are driven so far away.
The last glow of fading light,
A charming way to say goodbye.
Fear creeps in with the. night,
As darkness brings a stifled cry.
Oh what harmony of odds,
Nature weaves joy in our sorrow.
In a crossfire of Devil ‘n Gods,
Let us wait for a better tomorrow.
Partha Chakraburty
20.09.23
THE SCORCHING BEACH – Tarzan Art Oct 01, 2023
Autumn In Bloomington-OLD TURNS GOLD – Tarzan Art Oct 2, 2023
THE SUN SWINGS TO A NEW YEAR
The last lap unfolds,
The race lasted a year.
Who gives the accolades?
Why there’s none to cheer?
Let bygone be bygone,
Say hello to a New Year.
Memories get blurred,
Memoirs swept aside.
Goodbyes lost in time,
Some had left the ride.
2023 is sent to archive,
2024 is the onward stride.
Nation’s progress died,
In psuedo-politcal debate.
Economy had ups ‘n downs,
With fluctuating bank rate.
2023 is sent to archive,
2024 stands at the gate.
Forget the troubles of today,
Dream of a better tomorrow.
May your dreams come true,
Grit shall wipe your sorrow.
2023 was your yesterday,
2024 your bright tomorrow.
Gen Alpha is completed…..
The largest populated ‘Gen’.
A couple of billions born,
There’s a queue at every lane.
2023 was quite a rat race,
2024 is predicted insane.
Let the party roll they say,
As sun sets on a sky clear.
On silhouette of a tree bough,
The sun swings to a New Year.
2023 we bid thee goodbye,
2024 we welcome with a cheer.
Partha Chakraburty
31.12.23
A nest nestled on the green mountain slopes,
Where the wind’s whispers intertwine with hopes.
Amidst verdant greens, a sanctuary takes shape,
Nature’s cradle, where dreams gently drape.
Guardian trees stand tall, a silent choir,
Their boughs cradle stories, each leaf a squire.
The mountain echoes tales in the language of stone,
Where the nest finds solace, a place to call its own.
Above, the sky weaves a tapestry of blue,
Below, a canvas of meadows painted anew.
In this haven perched on nature’s embrace,
A symphony of life, a timeless grace.
Do I see wings brush against the canvas of the sky,
Does the nest continue to hold secrets, a realm up high.
On green mountain slopes, where echoes softly roam,
A sanctuary thrives, a cherished home.
The above is a forward from my IIM Bangalore batchmate, Shakti. – Ramesh Srinivasan
UNSUNG GLORY
Tanquility in silver rain,
The moon sets in pain.
Clouds have a silver line,
White specks on dark pine.
Gorgeous in her night gown,
A charming lady goes down.
Her light shines one last time,
Sky gets dressed in its prime.
All focussed in east – gaze,
As sun peeks thro’ the haze-
Unsung glory is in the west,
Queen of the night goes to rest.
Partha Chakraburty
12.03.24
Pink Rain
Beneath the Sakura’s fleeting grace,
They walk through time in embrace.
Pink rain falls like whispering vows,
Petals soft do caress their brows.
Soft wind sighs through cherry trees,
Their dreams dance upon the breeze.
Hand in hand, their hearts entwine,
Under blossoms with a lasting shine.
Softly it falls, a romantic theme,
Blushing petals in a golden gleam.
The sky sighs in a rosy hue,
Pink rain dances for the two of you.
They twirl beneath the fleeting mist,
Hearts adrift in love’s soft twist.
The world dissolves in hues so bright,
As pink rain paints the falling light.
Unlike the rain so cold and gray,
That washes golden light away,
Pink rain falls in a lover’s tune,
Soft as dusk beneath the moon.
No thunder roars, no tempests cry,
Just petals drifting from the sky.
A gentle storm, so light, so true,
A rain that blooms for you two.
Partha Chakraburty
02.03.2025
Nestled in Nature
Away where the green vines grow,
In the warmth of the morning glow.
Terracotta roofs, whisper the past,
Time walks slow, yet holds on fast.
Trees stand tall, in watchful grace,
Walls shielded in nature’s embrace.
Palm fronds sway in the breeze,
Nostalgia dwells in rustling leaves.
Footsteps cross on earthen trail,
Stories shared in voices frail.
A woman fetches water in pitcher,
As life unfolds in the lap of nature.
Living where the born-free tread,
Leaves as roofs and earth as bed.
A peaceful haven, pure and free—
Nestled in nature-.my home to be.
World beyond is grey and cold,
A world of new, forsaking old.
Here the nature does still weave,
The trees often laugh and grieve.
As the cities rise and rivers fade,
Nature calls and roots persuade.
A home is where green has a place,
A refuge wrapped in nature’s grace.
Partha Chakraburty
29.03.25
SILENCE WALKS ALONG A STREAM
Hush lies deep where the river bends,
Beneath bare trees is where fall ends.
The trees, like sentries, tall and bare,
Whispering secrets through the air.
A breath of dusk, and a hint of rain,
Naked branches in twilight strain.
The forest leans with bated breath,
Its mirrored limbs in waters’ depth.
A golden path of fallen flame,
Traces where the seasons came,
And in that amber, chilled and low,
Lies summer’s echo, winter’s glow.
The mist moves soft, a fading sigh,
It veils the woods,the stream,the sky.
No bird in flight, no leaf in dance—
Stillness caught in twilight’s trance.
No songbird breaks this twilight spell,
No footsteps fall, no chapel’s bell—
Just water’s hush and branches high,
A quiet hymn beneath the sky.
Reflections stretch in black and grey,
Where time and light dissolve away.
As silence walks along the stream,
The soul finds place in a dream.
Partha Chakraburty
21.05.25
Ajit
This one is for you
CAMOUFLAGED IN THE ROCKS
(Inspired by my painting)
Beneath the azure of noonday skies,
Where dragonflies and stillness rise,
A trio basks in tranquil grace—
A buffalo family, locked in place.
The mother stands in calm repose,
Her baby curled where cool stream flows.
A sentinel carved from mud and might,
While the baby bathes in latent delight.
Beside them,dark,strong and wide,
The father’s flank blends with the tide.
Half-seen, half-known, his rear in frame—
A presence so still and without a name.
All around the boulders crouch,
Like guardians on a silent watch.
They match them in shape and hue,
A camouflage rare does come true.
In backdrop, a hamlet gently peeks,
Through trees and whispering creeks.
Environs remote yet life is so dear,
In peace they live free from fear.
There’s no hunt, no need to run—
Storm is gone, they bask in the sun.
Like Onsen bathers, still and wise,
They soak beneath forgiving skies.
Far away from a world of guile,
Happiness is not gauged by smile.
No artifice, no painted locks—
They stay camouflaged in the rocks
Partha Chakraburty
STREET SIDE SYMPHONY
Monsoon sulks—half drizzle, half threat,
Damp are clothes that aren’t dry yet.
Balconies bloom with saris on parade,
A rainbow show, uniquely displayed.
Tin – roofed kingdom of tea and smoke,
Two figures lean in, as if destiny spoke.
One in orange stripes, a fashion faux pas,
Glowing like a traffic cone lost in Kolkata.
The benches wobble, loyal yet frail,
Witness to secrets, gossip, and stale.
A kettle hisses a monotonous song,
A stare says “You’ve lingered too long.”
A green auto waits – parked roadside,
For that Guinea pig to be lured for ride.
Its headlights squint like a sleepy guard,
Dreaming of cheating the next bard.
A relic, from yesterday the “STD” sign—
Stands proud and pretends to be fine.
Once hotline of distance, now a ghost,
Mocking the mobiles that brag the most.
The plaster on walls crumbles and flakes,
Like memories they peel with no remakes.
Each crack on the wall, a mural of time,
A silent graffiti, anonymous and sublime.
A labyrinth of wires a gym for the sparrow,
On electric poles that cable TV borrows.
Strapped to the poles, like prophets on trial,
Loudspeakers sermonize in decibels vile.
Yet here, in this chaos, comfort thrives,
A street-side symphony, light up lives
Humour and hardship, brewed in one cup—
Tastes best on this street live it up.
Sip it, complain, and then sip it up.
Partha Chakraburty
03.09.25
