Autumn's diary is the witness of my heart.
Memories love company but I'd rather be alone.
I've been watching you once again, in glory and in vain.
I'm just coping;
Saturating the good memories and the bad ones, feel bittersweet.
Why everything, I remember about you is so festive and joyous.
I've locked us in a beautiful winter dusk.

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Why do we afford to burden ourselves this much, if we live the one day life?

The constant chase of riches and glory, in the name of passion;
The overmuch rash, in the name of hard work.

Being the bourgeois, following the chrade "I claim to ease people's life by not letting them do, the nature's bidding. I rather have them do my bidding."

The aggressive need of materialistic happiness goes to show that "money can't buy happiness" is a fallacy in our times.

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"Dead people recieve more flowers than living ones because regret is stronger than gratitude" , Anne Frank

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जिंदगी जीना





गुजारना।

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Temptation to get away from this ever-changing contemporary world.

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Our dynamics of social response is so tampered.
The agressive need of accreditation is so surreal,
that every aspects of our choice is a consequence of that.

Scrolling is the deception of adventure.
Lies and deception swoop in those crevices of ratification from those unaware.

Everybody loves a rebel,
Unaware of the narcissism.
As the Japanese say, "there are three faces of a person";
Our times have had added the fourth.
The sociopathic mindset is the new social norm.

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Never I'm justified of my temptation, before;
Before you.
Well I'm convicting you of justifying my temptation,
But you're the temptation.

Let us get away from this world of no meal,
from religion, discrimination and politics.
We'll settle in that silhouette house in those misty woods away from these wars.
I'll built us a house, big enough to fit us two.
We'll dance barefoot on the grass, to the sound of my Ukulele to the impending storm.
We'll be like dogs in the sun;
Embracing the nakedness, having our pillow talk in the sun.
From this materialistic world, we'll borrow just that old acoustic gramophone of yours and my typewriter from 50s.
Together we'll study the world, the way it's supposed to.
We'll be pioneers in literature, economics, mathematics; whatever entices us.
We'll be discussing our philosophies for the rest of lives.

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True

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I asked her, "if everything we see was a little less saturated, with less highlights; slightly hazed and subtly warm; like everything was wrapped with a cellophane paper with white vignette applied; and shadows were hard to trace, but there's too much glare from lights around you. Won't it be nice."

She said, " well then, you won't appreciate it, anymore."

Suddenly, everything made sense.

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জীবন এবং জীবনের কষ্ট, তোমার দৃষ্টিকোণ।

রাতে তোষক নরম না বোলে ঘুম না আসলে,
সেই কৃষকের কথা মনে করবে যে রাতের আলো তে
চৌকি বার করে মশার সঙ্গে গল্প করতে করতে ঘুমিয়ে যায়।

রৌদ্রে ছাতা ছাড়া, প্রাণহীন বোধ হলে,
ওই শ্রমিকের কথা ভাববে যে এই রৌদ্রের তোমার বাড়ির ছাদ ঢালাই করছে।

যদি তাও মনে করো ওদের জন্য কোন সহানুভূতি আসে না,
তাহলে সেই মাতা পিতার কথা ভেবে নিও যারা বিনা স্বার্থে তোমার দেখাশোনা করে।

আমি মানি, আমার এই কথা গুলোতে তোমার কষ্ট কমে যায়না,
আমি তা দাবিও করিনা।
আমার বলার তাৎপর্য হলো সব কষ্টের সময় দিয়ে আগানো যায়।

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