POWER PUBLISHERS NEW RELEASE : MY GURU GIRLS
My Guru Girls by Saket Chattopadhyay
Price: Rs 215, Genre : Romance, Pages : , Binding : Paperback , Language : English, ISBN : 978-93-86526-20-5
Nandu Joseph is a multimillionaire businessman based in London. His painful past haunts him even today. There is something that gives him sleepless nights. When the nightmares become unbearable,Nandu resolves to accomplish an unfinished task from his past. He sets out on a journey in search of something that should bring back his peace of mind. How is he related to the “Guru Girls”? Who are they? Is Nandu a victim or a villain?
পথ ভোলা
পথ ভোলা
প্রশস্ত বুকে পরে রয় শূন্য এক খাঁচা,
অচিন পাখি গেছে উড়ে খুঁজে নতুন বাসা
ব্যাকুল মনেতে আমি বসে আছি একা,
আসে যদি পথ ভুলে এই টুকু আশা
স্বপ্ন তো স্বপ্নই বাস্তব নয় ;
আমি পাতা উল্টাই স্মৃতির খাতায়
তবু আমি পরে চলি অতীত যত,
তার সাথে মেলাতে চাই ভবিষৎ শত ।
অমিল সমীকরণ মাঝে বহু ভুল,
তাতেই মন আমার ভেবেই আকুল
হারাবার ভয় নেই এই আঁধারেতে
আবার আসবে সকাল বিশ্বাসী তাতে ।
রাকেশ দত্ত
The Storm
~~ Shree ~~
Dan met Nancy in a cocktail bar that night. It was pretty late and Nancy was getting drunk at the counter, blabbing away to strangers. She stank of perfume and vodka. She swooned this way and that, as if on the deck of a storm-swept ship. Then she spotted Dan and yelled in his ear,
“Hey you!”
Dan looked at Nancy and asked, “Me?”
Nancy was struggling to talk. “Yeah, you! You know what? You are the most handsome man in this bar. Would you buy me a drink?”
For some reason Dan could not deny. Dan ordered the drinks and they both drank like that there would be no tomorrow. They could hardly hear anything, just the sharp stink of vodka and the perfume prevailed. Nancy almost passed out by then. A number of people loitered around, shouting and screaming. When Dan managed to burst out the doors, he realized that a fierce storm had passed by. Water logged on the streets, few roofs were ripped off in the vicinity. The road was haunted with some drunks and a couple of weird-looking cab drivers.
Dan somehow dragged Nancy into a cab and took her to the room in his motel. Unable to stand any longer they both hit the bed. Silence loomed for a while before they attained their heights of passion. The storm swirled up again, hurling the sheets away from their semi-nude bodies. The other inmates of the motel panicked up and down the stairs, as the storm rampaged through the town.
Somewhere in the midst of that Dan wondered about the perfume and the vodka. He muttered to her, “Did you put on the vodka and drink the perfume?” She giggled and slurred, “Yessss!”
Nancy had the kind of figure to die for, full of secrets, bright with life. Her lines and curves, squiggles and swerves kept Dan in motion all night. Finally, he fell asleep towards the dawn without caring about the storm.
He woke up in the afternoon with a heavy head, not quite remembering what happened the night before. The storm was over, life was returning to normalcy. The local newspaper was pushed into his room, through the slit under the door. The headline was that of a popular bar dancer of the town died in a motorbike crash, drunk, during the violent storm the evening before. And the wildest part was, the newspaper smelt of vodka and the perfume Nancy wore!!
~~ Houston, Texas ~~
~~ July 2017 ~~
POWER PUBLISHERS NEW RELEASE:Operations Research And Hierarchical Decision Making Problems An Advance Mathematical Approach
Operations Research And Hierarchical Decision Making Problems An Advance Mathematical Approach by Savita Mishra
Price : 350, Genre : Research, Page : ,171 Binding : Paperback, Language : English, ISBN :978-93-84334-52-9
Operations Research is the discipline of applying advance analytical methods to help make better decisions. It helps the management to achieve its goals by using scientific techniques, making the study and understanding of operations research even more important in the present –day scenario. This book has been written with the objective of providing students with a comprehensive textbook on the subject. It follows a simple algorithmic approach to explain each concept, often giving different steps. This approach stems from the author’s experience in teaching undergraduate and postgraduate students over many years. The intended readers of this book are senior undergraduate students, graduate students, researchers and practitioner in the fields of operations research, mathematics, industrial engineering, management science, and other engineering disciplines that deal with the subjects of hierarchical decision making problems.
Online Delivery
Online Delivery
Ting tong! The door bell rang. Disgusted Mr. Menon opened the door.
An online food delivery boy entered, he was surprised to see him, as Mr. Menon isn’t that tech savvy neither he could order food via online.
Delivery Boy – “Hello Sir! Would you please do a favour and receive the food ordered by your neighbour Mr. Gomes!”
Gomes resided next door to Menon and both being widowers used to live alone. Menon knew that Gomes was out of station for last three days and he was supposed to return that day. But why this kind of favour was asked from him? Menon tried calling his neighbour over phone. But it was switched off.
“Sir, according to his last call he was on his way back home and his mobile’s battery was about to get exhausted.”
Menon received the hefty food pack on Gomes’ behalf. He waited till late night for Mr. Gomes, result being a bit high over lonely drinks. Free treats are always irresistible. Menon opened the well packed food when the chance of Gomes’ return was almost nullified.
A loud bang on the floor! Menon collapsed discovering the decapitated head of Gomes wrapped within the aluminium foils.
by Susovan Kanjilal
Deceased Humanity
Deceased Humanity
In an attempt to get skirted with all comforting needs,
In a desire always to maintain the self-centric position,
In a quest of shaping the world with obsessive materialistic pleasures,
Humanity is smashed… Humanity is dead perhaps..
And those beings who tried to live as human beings previously,
Are striving hard to get rid of the spirit of humanity forever,
By demeaning and demoralizing themselves.
In a hope, perhaps to reach immortality….
The souls that were so eager yesterday, to spread tranquil on earth,
Are so highly engrossed today, in searching for a battle ground.
To fight, to stab, to envy, to slaughter, to ruin the hollow world around,
Filling the streets drenched in blood and homes put on fire.
With eyes full of red anguish, minds full of treachery,
weapons full of ambitious lust and hands full of criminalization.
The hearts which were human hearts are now traces of vindictive souls,
Because humanity is smashed…
….Humanity is killed perhaps…!!
By Aninnya Sarkar
Dear Mother of a Boy I Pity You
Dear Mother of a Boy I Pity You
by Poonam Chatterjee
We never met and I don’t expect you to know me. Yet I write to you because I know you would understand.
Dear mother of a boy. You think he is still the chubby- cheeked boy asking for help whenever he fell or sulked every now and then when you refused to give him his favorite candy. He sulked now but for bigger reasons.
You gave him love and nurtured him so that he becomes a better person someday, but he turned out to be what you least expected into a ”dead leaf”. Disgusting isn’t it? The same way when he hit me hard in the face last night and called it ”love”. Every now and then he calls it his ”possessiveness.” And every now and then I try to find reasons for his doings. I was like his favorite toy the one that he used only when he wished to and other times I was like his expensive bottle of wine the one that he liked to keep safely in his closet.
You remember, you threw a party for everyone when he was born? You were so happy. The same way, I was too happy when he touched me for the first time. Do you remember the first time he kicked you and you rejoiced every second? Did it hurt? Well, it did hurt me when he kicked me hard and then came with all kind of apologies. You would know all this, won’t you?
Dear mother of a boy, he broke glasses then and now he believes in breaking people mostly their feelings. You will know better because he hurts you the same way he hurts me, because we both know that we were in love with a monster in a human body and I pity you because you are a mother of no – man.
Burning in the Flames of Futile Love
Burning in the Flames of Futile Love
By Soumashree Mukherjee
I am sculpting my own masterpieces from those ashes in the midst of worldly dust.
I see so many eyes filled with lust, worldly pleasures, they think it to be treasure but treasure chests often lead to death where your body is fed by worms.
Do you know that even today the lies tell me stories that should have been left untold, but I find them so soothing to my soul. Stories weaved by illusions being narrated by lies to a heart which loves to wander in it’s self made fantasy world.
We take shelter in the shadow of fantasy, the world within us.
So beautiful and deep, sacred purity.
But from outside, marked with scars.
I’ve seen the moon at night while I was lying on soft grass, a beautifully weird feeling, as if I can touch it just by reaching up.
The world looks beautiful, when you are stagnant and you see the world run by so fast, like those shots in movies where the camera is fixed and the surrounding lights are moving in fast forward.
Isolation is not always a choice, sometimes it is the only option left. You never know when it happened, suddenly you find yourself being left away.
Carved wounds, designed hearts, what a sin to be committed is to fall in love.
In the numbered days of our mortal world, forever seems an attractive myth, as if we live to love forever, but in reality it all comes down to selfish needs.
Give and take is an universal rule, even love is a contract, broken when of no use.
Hate now is a purer emotion than love, I wonder if it has always been this way or is it the perk of our modern world.
Do you ever wonder how bad can the falling part be when your heart is aware of the insecurities?
Love is an illusion in a world of colours, the colours are bright enough to blind you, make you forget where you came from.
I believe in love, it is the feeling which helps me feel connected to the souls, the soul of an old park bench where I sit and my pen bleeds to colour the papers of my notebook, the soul of the tree that has seen me crying when everyone was busy writing there status on Facebook.
I know I am lost, but it is so good to be lost here where I can find myself. It’s a world where I can write down those words of pain and legacy.
The words that bled due to the pain in my heart, the tears that came out of my eyes back in the real world because of the clouds of smoke and dust that choke my lungs.
I am better here, long way I have traveled.
This beautiful parallel world is my big home, that has sheltered me through the last years. My heart has been healed by the beauty within, pure and sacred , now I’ve got nothing to lose.
The Lost Hawk
The Lost Hawk
By Saurabh Pant
Wind ruffled its wings as that majestic powerful bird rose high and
high circling around small groups of rabbits identifying its unique
pray as a routine office visit.
One heavy swoop and all dwarfs dodged to survive, yet the weakest
couldn’t dodge at the perfect time and became the tasty dinner of that
unique boss, who had the habit of hunting out for one worker out of the office
for daily purpose.
Yet, it’s not able to search those unworthy bits of group as he did
before to survive for its own cause, as it has started to become old
and stopped to visit the office, so someone else has become the boss.
The two leader face each other in that blowing wind without any noise
coming loud so the younger hawk tore the senior’s head apart to
snatch the legacy away from the legend to continue swooping small
groups of Rabbits.
Fear washed all over as the Sky grows bloody red and the old hawk died
without giving any signs of the lost battle and no wisps of hope
remain aware of it’s diminished body;
It was announced in the Hawk community that the legend is missing and
we should call him the Lost Hawk from now on, yet the power has been
changed and fear now spread in both communities to live and survive
amongst a new dictator at large…