RAJESH SUR CHOWDHURY, sir amar jibone ek nirolash anughatak,antore ek abiraam hridspandan,smritite ek nirob anuranan.Sir sattikar orthe amar GUIDE,FRIEND and PHILOSOPHER.
SIR...apnake amar shato-shahasro namashkar.
WELCOME
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I have THREE mes in me.One,what you think about me.Two,what I think about me.Three,what actually me i.e. I am.Last two mes of them are illustrated in this blog and the rest is in YOUR hand.
This blog is full of my emotions and memories.Moreover it is a way to share my feelings to all of you as I belive in GIVE and TAKE policy.You can also share your thoughts and fundas in this blog.
I hope you will have a nice visit in this blog and it can touch your heart and will inspire you to make such nice self-illustration.Sorry for any mistake and any kind of suggestions are humbly accepted.
THANK YOU.
Pimp My Profile
I have THREE mes in me.One,what you think about me.Two,what I think about me.Three,what actually me i.e. I am.Last two mes of them are illustrated in this blog and the rest is in YOUR hand.
This blog is full of my emotions and memories.Moreover it is a way to share my feelings to all of you as I belive in GIVE and TAKE policy.You can also share your thoughts and fundas in this blog.
I hope you will have a nice visit in this blog and it can touch your heart and will inspire you to make such nice self-illustration.Sorry for any mistake and any kind of suggestions are humbly accepted.
THANK YOU.
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Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Most Funy Personality
Asha kori shobai chinte perecho take.Lalu-r kharap diktai shobai dekhe baa jane.Ami shobsamay e chesta kori tar rashik rup ta k beche nite.
SPECTACLED LANGUR(choshma banar)
This type of monkeys are only found in Tripura.No other place in the World has this wonderful creature.THIS IS OUR GLORY
Ki Tader Aporadh?
Tear brimmed eyes scan the garbage
In search of cans and food
The eyes that never saw
The sight of playgrounds or school
The dry chapped hands that only felt
The touch of hammers and rags
The hands that only know
How to clean and scrub
And not to write and draw
The dusty feet that have never felt
The touch of a warm shoe
Or felt beneath them
A carpeted floor
The feet that only know
The prick of thorns and rocks
A child, child like us
Who should have gone to school
Who should have read the books we did
And eaten ice cream on a hot summer's day
Instead of picking through the trash
Or weaving carpets with fingers that
Were meant to hold pencils and pens
A child, with childhood stolen away
In search of cans and food
The eyes that never saw
The sight of playgrounds or school
The dry chapped hands that only felt
The touch of hammers and rags
The hands that only know
How to clean and scrub
And not to write and draw
The dusty feet that have never felt
The touch of a warm shoe
Or felt beneath them
A carpeted floor
The feet that only know
The prick of thorns and rocks
A child, child like us
Who should have gone to school
Who should have read the books we did
And eaten ice cream on a hot summer's day
Instead of picking through the trash
Or weaving carpets with fingers that
Were meant to hold pencils and pens
A child, with childhood stolen away
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