What is this enchantment that is taking over my senses?
Is Spring again trying to meddle in my emotions?
And I’m gladly getting carried away in its deceitful play?
I so wish it was Our spring.
Together witnessing the florescence of nature, and feel the beauteous aroma of the budding flowers of mango.
We had the power to elevate the essence of spring, for Nature itself conspired to unite us, just like it unites
Rue and Joy in its sorcerous play.
Indeed my joyfulness is turned to ruefulness when
I notice that the flower of Joy is nowhere to be found.
Oh quintessence of bliss! I remain untouched by your spark of happiness, and yet I’m playful.
I play with the reveries of my life.
The topsy turvy season of florescence is my turn to weave the wreath of love,
And embark on the eternal wait to finally hear your lute.-
"While the veiled bird sings in perfectly melodious cacophony, amidst the tree in its full bloom, i find myself getting carried away once again in the sorcerous acts of spring.
The beauty allures me to feel the touch of those petals once more, but I fear that they will shed sooner than I expect.
The pleasant breeze soothes me into a calming doze of sleep, and offer the gift of a beautiful sunlit morning.
I will faintly hear you calling out my name in your sorcerous voice.
But this isn't real, is it?
The veiled bird continues to sing, and the flute keeps on playing, and I'm still dreaming of you."
-
"At a particular point of time my mind seemed to float in a sky where there was neither darkness nor light, but a profound depth of calm, a boundless sea of consciousness without a ripple or murmur."
~ Rabindranath Tagore
("My Reminisces")-
Drowsiness filled the air, melting my senses down. I can't help it anymore.
My vision is blurred, and I can't see you clearly. Your faint words fail to reach my ears, but I can still hear your tragic song, a mockery towards my failure.
Alas! I've failed and I'm failing each day.
But I can't help it, dear epitome of fulfillment!
The leaves are dry.
The air is cold.
The fumes are circling around like little fairies on the garden of Eden.
A little fairy tale was being woven, only for the beads of transient happiness to scatter away ruthlessly!
-
Amidst a thousand incessant laughs,
The exhausted star lowers its ambitions.
It's noisy out here, though the light has faded.
The brahminy claims the sky,
The twilight feels like a touch of nectar to my tongue.
The burning self devouring pipe of satisfaction calms me down when I realise
The eventide marks our togetherness.
Separated by physicalities but united by the drunk vision.
Oh Helios! What dreadful pleasure do you offer me.
WE are warmed by the same sunshine.
WE are intoxicated by the same sunset.
My beloved! Can you see what I can see too?
-
" Drowsiness filled the air, melting my senses down. The closed room was murky.
My vision is blurred, and I'm unable to see you clearly anymore. Your faint words fail to reach my ears, but I can still hear your tragic song, a mockery towards my failure.
Alas! I've failed and I'm failing each day.
But I can't help it, dear epitome of fulfillment!
Your physicalities were turned translucent, I could see through your mind and body.
All I saw that, I was nowhere.
The leaves are dry.
The air is cold.
The fumes are circling around like little fairies on the garden of Eden.
A little fairy tale was being woven, only for the beads of transient happiness to scatter away ruthlessly! "
- Pellucid times.
-
শরতের অরুণ আলোয় যখন ভুবন আচ্ছন্ন, পাড়ায় পুজোর প্যান্ডেল এর জন্য বাঁশ বাঁধা চলছে, কয়েকদিন বাদেই মহালয়া, তিন বছর আগে এমনই এক মধুর সন্ধ্যায় আলাপ। সেই থেকে প্রতিটা পুজোই যেন হয়ে উঠল প্রেমের পরম মহৎসব। পুজো আর প্রেম, কোথায় গিয়ে মিলে মিশে একাকার হয়ে গেলো।
পুজো পুজো গন্ধ পেলেই কুমোরটুলি তে নিয়মিত আনাগোনা। সেই সপ্তমীর সন্ধ্যায় আমার চোখে জল আশা, ঠাকুর দেখে বেরিয়ে মেলা থেকে ফিশ ফ্রাই কিনে খাওয়া, জীবনটা যেন স্বপ্নের পটভূমির মতো হাসি কান্নায় পরিপূর্ণ হয়ে উঠেছিল। কোথাও কিছুর অভাব তো কই কোনোদিন বুঝিনি।
তবে, এই বছরটায় সব কিছু বড্ড আলাদা।
হঠাৎ সেই মেট্রো স্টেশন এর বাইরে চায়ের দোকানে সিগারেট ধরাতে ধরাতে মনে পরবে, গত বছর এখানে নবমীর দিন একসাথে চায় চুমুক দিচ্ছিলাম।
বন্ধুরা পেছন থেকে ডেকে বলবে চল আরো অনেক ঠাকুর দেখা বাকি। আমি হালকা হেসে, চোখের জলটা কোনমতে আটকানোর চেষ্টা করবো।-
In the matters of your heart
Never trust its instincts.
For its lead never finds fulfilment.
I find it hard to see myself in this situation,
Where you are mine but not mine alone.
I can claim your body but not your soul.
The vile roams about searching for a shelter, no less than a destitute.
But oh the epitome of fulfillment,
You offer your wealth and finely take it away. Leaving me back to my sole self.
You reanimate the corpse with your light,
The enigmatic light of joy, filling it with passion.
The passionately winged body flies,
Illuminated and glorified.
But soon the wings disappear
And a fall is suffered.
Time rolls and soon the bells ring,
Reminding me that it's over already.
The woven garland of lust is withering,
The futile flowers lie odourlessly.-
The bird is a dear friend of the window.
It sat by the window, and sang.
The gracious melody of the bird overpowered the plaintive surroundings.
For it sang of love.
The window was restless. Tempestuous winds create havoc and destroy everything inside.
Destroying everything that is positive. Everything that is pure. Everything that is happy.
But,
The bird's song is happiness. The sun rays which are crossing its threshold, complement this happiness. And all of this makes the window happy. The beings passing by the window are touched by this blissful play of nature.
What if the bird leaves?
What if the soul leaves?
The lively window loses its life,
The bliss is replaced with misery.
The bird is ephemeral.
The bliss is ephemeral.
The window stands alone.
It witnesses the multitude of birds passing and sitting by it everyday.
None of them sang as soulfully as the old bird. The changing species, the changing melody, the changing beauty, haunted the window, for transience can never be a thing of beauty.
Now the window is ugly.
Ugly by the ever altering companionship.-