Author Bio - SUBRATA SAHA

 Author Biography 

Subrata Saha is an author who lives in North West London with her family. 

She loves writing and reading. She mainly writes womens fiction. This is her first written debut novel called, “The Abstract Artist”. 

Subrata has published a few works in the past. A childrens picture booked called, “The Little Lost Baby Beluga Whale”; an e-book called “Poems To Mother Earth and a novella called Aleithia’s Truth,which was selected and published as part of an anthology project called One Million Pound Project. 

In 2020 she won a local newspaper competition in the Harrow Times for her poem Beating Heart Of Britain:- The NHS Workers (a poem to pay her respects to the NHS for helping us through the Coronavirus 19 pandemic).

Subrata is a member of The Society Of Authors,The Pinners Writers Group and The Society Of Civil and Public Service Writers. She has qualified in proof reading and copy editing.

She was one of the coordinators of the “The Shepherds Bush Booktalk” and “The Sunday Bookclub” in the past. 

Subrata’s other hobbies includes, music, travelling, walking, hiking, biking, embroidery and gardening. She also loves animals and nature.

Subrata Saha social media links:-

https://subratawriting.blogspot.com/

https://facebook.com/subrata.saha.520357 (Su Page Page Facebook page)

Su Page Page@supagepagechannel9139 (Youtube Channel)

https://www.instagram.com/suby.1974?gsh=MWt1emprcjg1ZHgxMA== (Suby1974 Instagram) 

Views Of The Highland From A Train

 Views Of The Highland From A Train

Waiting at 9pm in the evening,

At Inverness Station,

Waiting for my Caledonian sleeper train 

From Inverness to London. 

I settle in my seat and look out of my window.

11 hours and 10 minutes,

To make this journey magical journey,

Through highlands of Scotland. 

The train begins to move,

The hours tick by,

I soon come across a beautiful scenery

Of green grass and heather in the uplands

The valleys covered in a soft mist. 

There are pine forest of tall trees 

A highlander cottage abandoned in the distant.

Who lived there I wonder? What was their story? 

A beautiful gurgling stream passes by,

Of clear sparking highland water, 

Which people sell in bottles. 

A red kite flutters in the wing, 

A stag shows itself over the horizon,

It antlers crowing its head,

It gazes at my passing train. 

Finally it starts to get dark. 

The final glimmers of the sun rays disappears over the hills. 

I soon fall asleep. 

Next stop will be Edinburgh to London. 

By Subrata Saha 

30-30-30

Tilly, My Adventourous Tuxedo Cat ( Jan 2025)

 Tilly, My Adventourous Tuxedo Cat

My tuxedo cat looks at me,

With wide pleading eyes. 

She is seating on the window sill. 

“Let me have a long walk in the snow mum”. 

“Ok Puss Puss”, I say. “You know it it is cold and your padded fur feet will feel the cold?”.

“Miaow”, came the reply.

I open the back door. 

“Come back in a hour ok?”. 

Daintily passes me and vanishes. 

One hour later she is back. 

“Have you been far Tilly?”,

“Yes Mum”, she replies. 

I see the her paw prints in the snow. 

A trail that starts at my back door and circles back immediately back to my back door. 

She has not even been to the end of the garden. 

Now thats a surprise! :0)

By Subrata Saha. 

30-30-30 

Snowscape (January 2025)

 SNOWSCAPE

I write LOVE in the snow,

Upon a rock. 

The air is icy crisp,

Cold but fresh. 

The snow around me,

Like white soft powder, 

Feels like a winter wonder land. 

I rub my gloved hands together.

I breathe in the cold air, 

And release my breath. 

The cold smoky vapours rise into the air. 

I see the fir tree in the distance,

Its branches laden with snow. 

A burden no doubt,

But it still stands proud, 

Against the blue clear sky. 

I look at the fairy snow angel before me. 

She is covered in ice crystals.

It feels like she is smiling at me. 

Her delicate wings are tipped in snow. 

She seats by the frozen pond. 

I do not want to forget this magical sight, 

My snowscape,

That fills me with love. 

Nature wonder and beauty before me

In my icy cold paradise.

By Subrata Saha.  

January 2025

30-30-30

Bleeding Heart Yard

 Bleeding Heart Yard

A tiny courtyard off Greville Street,

In the heart of London. 

A name of unusual connotation,

What could it possible mean?

A place of broken hearts

Waiting to be mended?

The heart of the Virgin Mary,

Pierced by five swords of steel? 

It breaks my heart to hear. 

Love can be hard,

Hard as this cobbled yard, 

But I prefer  love to be light.  

A heavy heart, 

Is a grieving heart. 

The legend of Lady Hatton,

Dancing with the the devil,

After making a deal, 

Her heart still beating in the yard,

In the first light of dawn. 

Writers of the past,

Fascinated by the yard,

I reminisce like them,

While I drink my coffee,

In the bistro called “The Bleeding Heart Yard”

By Subrata Saha

30-30-30 

Aurora Lights In My Dreams

 Aurora Lights In My Dreams

Waiting in anticipation,

To see natures marvellous spectacle,

I await with bated breath. 

Looking out of the windows, 

Strolling  out into the garden,

I watch the midnight blue sky. 

No sign of natures wonder, as I wait and wait. 

I look at my social media,

Beautiful photos of greens, pinks, reds, yellows, blues and violet,

Appearing from all over the world. 

Like Christmas tree lights, lighting up all over the world. 

It felt like Father Christmas had come early. 

People feeling childlike delight to see this giant of the North. 

But it does not appear to me.

I go to bed disappointed.

Why did you not show yourself to me? 

A few months pass.

A clear dream one night comes to me. 

I am travelling in a car, 

I see a hillside in the distance,

With a church steeple on top.

The star shining like diamond glints,

Against the backdrop of  dark blue velvet sky. 

Then slowly,ever so slowly, lights begin to appear,

A kaleidoscope of colours of green, pinks, reds, yellows, blues and violet,

against the horizon. 

Natures beautiful art to gaze at for free. 

My heart lights up with joy, 

To see the Aurora Borealis in full glory, 

in my dreams. 

Subrata Saha (May 2024). 

30-30-30

The Family

 The Family

What is the perfect family?

Is there such a thing? 

Should we have such expectations or focus on qualities? 

There are different varieties of families these days. 

2.4 children.

Step-families

Blended families. 

Same-sex families.

Adopted families.

Friends can be your families. 

Broken families.

What does family mean for me?

A family will always have your back.

It is a place of unconditional love. 

In good times and bad times they are there for you. 

They want the best for you, without expectation. 

They will help you come to the correct decisions for the highest good. 

Understanding,empathy, care and love. 

There would be laughter and warmth. A place where family is home. 

They say the blood is thicker then water. 

But family can be both your family and your best friends. 

Subrata. 

30-30-30.

Pinner Writers Group Exercise:- From A Photography Showing A Window With Shutters and Pink Blossom Around It.

 Exercise - From A Photography Showing A Window With Shutters and Pink Blossom Around It. 

The cab driver drops me off at my destination:- a quaint French farmhouse just outside Toulouse. 

I thank the driver and pay them the francs I owe them. 

The cab driver drives off and I set my yellow luminous suitcase beside me on the road. 

I take my first view of the farmhouse and marvel at it. The scene is magnificent. 

There is a small pebbled pathway leading up to a quaint wooden gate. The farmhouse is not too large and has a tiled roof . It is two storeys in height approx. 

I walk up to the gate. I have rented the place for about two weeks and it is only for me. I just need my peace, quiet and fresh country air. The French family that own this farmhouse are away on holiday for two week in Porto, Portugal. That was the  perfect timing for all concerned. 

I let myself through the gate and look at the wonderful front garden. It is more of a vegetable garden on one side , with tomatos, french onions, cabbages, carrots growing in abundance. The other side is a beautiful green lawn, with an array of wild flowers bordering the edges. The flowers are mostly huge white daisies, with yellow centres, smiling at the sun. There are a few sunflowers too, with bright  glowing yellow patels, standing tall and straight. The garden is heavenly.

I walk up to the front door and have a quick look at wooden shutters of the windows. Huge pink rose blossoms are growing around the shutters and the smell is so fragrant and irresistible. I can see the honeybees busy hovering around the roses. 

I look through the window and then see a movement inside, I am sure of it. A ghostly shadow perhaps? Thats strange no one should be here. The caretaker of this properly is away as well.  My hearts starts to beat fast. I am all alone here. I take out my mobile phone. Yes I have a signal. It is good to be on the safe side. 

I decide to to enter the farmhouse with caution. I walk up to the door and put my key into the lock and gently open the door. 

“Hello” I cry out.

By Subrata Saha

30-30-30

Piero della Francesca - The Baptism Of Jesus Painting

 Piero della Francesca -  The Baptism Of Jesus Painting

The Holy Spirit (dove), Father and Son align on a glorious sunlit day on the banks of the River Jordan, with its familiar hilly landscapes and with its olive, eucalyptus and cedar trees. 

One cousin baptises another cousin, with honour and gratitude in their heart. John the Baptist had been given this sacred task. 

Jesus stands in the waters of the Jordan, with a simple loincloth around him. His brown hair and beard glows in the sun and his intense blue, green, and greys eyes look across the horizon. Those who have walked with Jesus, knows those eyes well. They are  eyes like no other and reflect this man’s divinity and his pure soul.  He is ready to receive the life giving waters of his baptism, under the cedar tree. 

On this day, are three angels to witness this memorial event. One angels wings take on an earthly brown, to fushia pink and then sky blue in colour.  They are wearing a band gold on their long flaxen hair. The angels wear robes and the middle angel wears a white robe, with a pink blossom wreath over their head. This angel looks straight at Jesus. The last angel (with a green leafy wreath around their head) stands behind the cedar tree and seems to be watching with anxious eyes. They whisper to their angel companions. 

The other bathers continue to bath in the waters and then it happens. Everything aligns with perfect symmetry. There is a quiet hush. The dove, the crucible of pure water pouring on Jesus head, held by the palm of John’s hand, Jesus’s hand comes into a prayer, into the present moment.  And then the voice of the Father reigns out, “This is my own dear son with whom I am pleased.”

Piero della Francesca, the painter, captures this moment  of unconditional love through a medieval window forever, in 1439, and for us to take great pleasure in, to our present day. 

By Subrata Saha. 

30-30-30

Flamingo Dance and Flamingo Flower by Subrata Saha.

 

Flamingo Dance 

A pink haze mist  in the distance, 

In the summer sun,

Like pink soft clouds floating along the water horizon. 

A sea of delicate ballerina like legs ,

Flamingos dancing in unison.

Turning their heads to a secret rhythm beat, 

Of only which they know of. 

Courtship display of courtly dance of pink freshness,  

To the pipes of the Andes,

They choose their “one” for life.

Pink flamboyance and dance flair,

Choreographed to pure perfection,

A heavely show of no comparison.   

By Subrata Saha ( Oct 2023). 

30-30-30

Flamingo Flower (Anthurium)

Green leaves turning into pink delicate lacquered flowers,

Flowers turning into heart shape pink patels of love. 

Enveloping the spandex of tiny white bloom of flowers,

That contain the fruits of tomorrow,

Generations of pink flamed flamingo flowers,

Waiting to spread their Valentiine love. 

The delicate Anthurium flowers of the tropics,

A little of the exotic in one’s life,

Leaves arranged to

Showcase this pink beauty to the world. 

By Subrata Saha ( October 2023)

Pinner Writers - Playwriting Scene Exercise by Subrata Saha.

 Scene 1

It is dark and rain is drumming on the stone-washed path. There is not a sound, apart form the pitter-patter of the rain. 

Footsteps can be heard splashing in puddles but  noone is there. 

Simon is waiting in  a dimly lit London car park in the rain. 

Simon:- (shouts out into the dark) “Where are you? I can’t see you in this rain”. 

Invisible Man:- “I am everyone and nowhere”.

Simon:- “Stop mucking around and show yourself”. 

Invisible Man ( gives a hearty laughter):- “I will show myself, until you show me the money”.

Simon pulls out a large brown envelope stuffed with cash, partly from his raincoat pocket. 

Simon:- “Here it is. Now show yourself”. 

The Invisible Man show his face in the rain, with a brimmed round hat. 

Simon:- “Stop this. Its strange seeing a head with no body”. 

Invisible Man:- “It rather fun”. The Invisible Man puts out his hand ( with no arm) and gestures Simon, to give him the money. 

Simon:- “Not so fast. I want your word that you will not stand as a witness to the robbery I was involved in. Noone will believe you anyway. You weren’t even there. You not even on CTVV  camera.”

Invisible Man begins to tutt, tutt. 

Invisible Man:- “Yes, but I have proof of a photo that I took of you exiting the Lavender Club. And it can be authenticated. Really Simon, you should have kept your hoodie on”. 

Simon:- “There is nothing to tie me to the crime. You give me the photo and I will give you the cash”. 

Simon remembered the photo flash in the dark, when the Invisible Man took that photo of him exiting the Lavender Club’s stolen stash from the their safe. 

Invisible Man:- “Money first”. 

Simon hands the envelope over. The Invisible Man begins to count the monies and we can now see both his head and two hands. 

Invisible Man:- “Yes its all there”. 

The Invisble man hands over the photo and negative and Simon produces a gun and fires at the Invisible Man. Instaneouly the Invisible Man disappears. He begins to laugh. Simon fires more bullets into the rain, in a haphazard manner. 

Simon ( anxious) :” Where are you? You piece of sh*t?”

Invisible Man:- “You fool. The FBI and CIA cannot catch me. And you think you can? I have more copies of the photo and its negatives. Thanks for the monies. It will come in handy. I have already e-mailed your photo to the police and let them know your location”

We hear police sirens in the rain. Simon begins to run but he has been caught. 

We then hear footsteps walking away. The Invisible Man is pleased with his night’s work.

Subrata Saha

30-30-30

Sonnets By Subrata Saha

 Whale Sonnet 

Beautiful whales of the deep blue oceans,

Keepers of the secrets of the high seas.

Swimming in unison and with motion, 

They migrate long journeys, with simple ease. 

With their fluke tail, they wave to all of us, 

They blow  rainbow water vapour up high.

They eat krill and fishes with little fuss,

And sing soothing melodies with a sigh.

Hunted to extinction, to mankinds shame ,

The have survived and prevalied, come what may. 

We only have humanity to blame, 

A sad story at the end of the day. 

Whales swim free with your heart and your spirit,

Love to our seas and all that is in it. 

By Subrata Saha 

Jan 2024  30-30-30

 

Orchid Sonnet 

Ochids beauty are rare, divine and pure

Delicately held by their stems and leaves.

They radiate, bright colours of allure ,

Leaving ones senses, to see and perceive. 

A flower symbol of virility,

A botanists haven dream come so true.

With vitality and fertility,

It blooms fully with love, romance , on cue.

Do not wither away, oh sweet orchids

The many colours and varied species,

It would sadden our hearts, that we forbid. 

A possibility not to conceive.

Please propagate the next generation. 

Of your most breathtaking, sweet creations. 

Jan 2024

By Subrata Saha 30-30-30 

Flowers On The Path

 As I walk by,  I see beautiful flowers in the rays of sunshine. They are at a foot of a tree and yet most people will not notice them. They hide in the shade and yet beauty can be found in the most unlikely of places, if you know where to look….

The colours are of two shades of pink. The centre of the flowers are a dark fushia pink, with light pink petals surrounding the stigma. Each flower seems to plead to a passerbys, “Please see me and enjoy my beauty”. 

I bend down and smell the flowers scent. I wonder the latin names for these blooms of nature. The smell is gorgeous. No bee can resist their nectar. 

Its time for me to move on. I quickly take a picture of these flowers on my I-phone. I want to preserve this vision for a long time. Nature is the the best artist ever and a marvel to behold.

Subrata Saha

30-30-30