2025: One Life To Live

Friday, June 13, 2025

Things That Found Me

I went through few of my old things.

Something hit me...

Let's call it nostalgia, for I don't know a better or more appropriate word.

(Funny thing with words haan!)

Old notebooks from classes

Strange how I remembered the color of the ink each one was written in.

But didn't remember that

my handwriting was far better than

what it is now.

Preserved Letters

I still write letters but never realized

I used to write so much just a few years back.

What hindered me, if not the shadow

of my own thoughts?

Did I grow up ? But then what does

growing up even mean!

Tagged in as #UnsentLetters, they sent me

on a journey I never knew I needed.

Collection of leaves and the stories

I wrote about each one of them.

I remembered the stories, each one of them.

But strangely enough, I never realized I still would remember them...

even after all these years.

I remember the trees and how they looked.

What would they be doing now?

Would they remember me, or the leaves

they have parted ways since?

And the hundreds of drafts I will never post

I have nothing I could do for you

and words have gone haywire

in my existence now as I see each one of you

I wish we meet still,

perhaps in another dimension,

in another universe.

Thursday, June 12, 2025

Wednesday, June 11, 2025

चयन: Choice

कभी मन किया है?

कभी मन किया है - मीठी रूई जैसे उन बादलों को थोड़ा चखने की?

कभी मन किया है - उन मुलायम बादलों पर लेट कर उन्ही बादलों को ही ओढ़कर उन्ही पर एक मासूम झपकी लेने की?

लेकिन याद रखें, ये फुज्जीले बादल नरम, हल्के और बेहद मुलायम दिखाई देते हैं, लेकिन इनके अंदर भी एक महासागर की क्षमता छिपी होती है।

यह बादल अगर गरजने पर आ जाए तो सारी दुनिया ही पिघला दे, लेकीन धीमी आँच पर बरसे, तो धरती को अपनी सौंधी खुशबू भी याद दिलादे।

कोमलता एक चुना हुआ विकल्प है, कमजोरी नहीं।

/ 6

: 99

#D5June

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A Loose Translation:

Have you ever felt like tasting those sweet cotton-like clouds?

Have you ever felt like lying down on those soft clouds, covering yourself with those clouds and taking an innocent nap on them?

But remember this - these fluffy clouds may look soft, light and squishy, but they have the immenseness of the ocean hidden inside them.

If these clouds thunder, they can melt the whole world, but if they rain gently, they can remind the earth of its sweet fragrance (petrichor).

Softness is a choice, not a weakness.

/ 6

: 87

#D5June

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Monday, June 9, 2025

Pause

Die unerwartetsten Überraschungen erleben wir, wenn wir nicht darauf warten.

Das heißt aber nicht, dass wir die Hoffnung aufgeben müssen. Wir können einen Moment innehalten, wenn es sein muss. Manchmal ist eine Pause wichtiger und kann, wenn sie richtig gemacht wird, von Vorteil sein.

Pause ... um der Duft zu sein, der eine Weile verweilt, bevor er sich bemerkbar macht. Pause ... wie die Wellen, bevor sie zu nie dagewesenen Höhen aufsteigen.

Die Überraschungen, die die „Pause“ Phase mit sich bringt, sind erfreulicher und aufregender. Warum? - Weil wir Erwartungen (die Bedingungen sind) losgelassen haben und dennoch eine hoffnungsvolle (bedingungslose) Lebenseinstellung beibehalten haben.

Nicht jeder Tag ist gleich, und das muss auch nicht sein, denn genau darauf kommt es an, um ein sinnvolles Leben mit schönen Überraschungen zu führen.

/ 9

: 126

#D4June

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A Loose Translation:

The most unexpected surprises come to us when we are not looking for them.

But that does not mean we must give up on hope. We can pause for a little while, if we must. Sometimes a pause is more essential and, if done right, could be beneficial.

Pause... to be the fragrance that lingers for a while before making its presence known. Pause... like the waves do before they rise to unprecedented heights.

The surprises that the "pause" phase brings are more enjoyable and exciting. Why - because we have let go of expectations (which are conditions) and yet maintained a hopeful (unconditional) outlook towards life.

All days are not same and they must not be, for that's probably what matters to have a meaningful life with beautiful surprises.

/ 9

: 129

#D4June

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Friday, June 6, 2025

나는 너의 해바라기다! : Sunflower

내 존재는 땅의 어둠 속에 뿌리를 두고 있지만,

내 마음은 평생 하늘에서 널 찾아 헤맸다.

네 사랑의 빛이 내 마음의 영원한 인도자이기니까.

우리 영혼의 일부는 항상 서로 얽혀 있었다.

단지 거리가 어떻게 중요할 수 있을까?

이별의 긴 밤도 중요하지 않아.

새로운 새벽이 밝아오면

너의 광선이 나를 비출 테니까.

나는 너의 해바라기다.

/ 9

: 129

#D3June

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A Loose Translation:

My being is rooted in the darkness of the earth,

But my heart has searched for you in the sky all my life.

For the light of your love is the eternal guide of my heart.

Parts of our souls have always been intertwined.

How can this mere distance be of any consequence?

The long night of separation too doesn't matter.

For when the new dawn dawns,

your rays will shine on me.

For I am your sunflower.

/ 9

: 78

#D3June

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Tuesday, June 3, 2025

ଚିଠିଟିଏ : A Letter

ହୃଦୟ ଝିଞ୍ଜାରି ପକାଉଥିବା କେତୋଟି ଶବ୍ଦ ... ସେହି ଶବ୍ଦ ମଧ୍ୟରେ ଲୁଚି ରହିଥିଲା ଅନେକ କୁହା ଅକୁହା କଥା। କୁହା କଥା ଯେତକ, ତା'ଠାରୁ ଅକୁହା କଥାର ଓଜନ ଢେର୍ ବେଶି। କେତେ ବେଶି ସେଇଟା କେବେ ମାପି ହେଇନି କି ହେବ ନାହିଁ ବୋଧହୁଏ।

ଯେଉଁ କଲମ କାଳିରେ ଲେଖାଯାଇଥିଲା ସେ ଚିଠିଟି, ନା ସେ କାଳି ଅଛି, ନା ଅଛି ସେ କଲମର ଚିହ୍ନ ବର୍ଣ୍ଣ। ଯେମିତି ସେହି ଶବ୍ଦର ଭାବରେ ନିଜକୁ ଭିଜାଇ ହଜିଯାଇଛନ୍ତି ସମୟର ଶେଷ ଦ୍ବାର ପାଖ କେଉଁ ଗୋଟିଏ ଗଳିରେ। ଏତେ ଭାବନା କ'ଣ ଦୁନିଆରେ ଥାଏ!

ଏମିତି ଗାମ୍ଭୀର୍ଯ୍ଯ, ଏମିତି ମାଧୁର୍ଯ୍ୟ ଯେ କେତୋଟି ଅକୁହା କଥା ଓ ଅବ୍ୟକ୍ତ ଭାବନାରେ ଥାଇପାରେ, ତାହା ଚିନ୍ତା କରିବା ହିଁ କାଠିକର ପାଠ। ପ୍ରେମକୁ ପ୍ରେମ କରିପାରିଥିବା ବ୍ୟକ୍ତିଟିଏ ହିଁ ବୁଝିପାରିବ ତା'ର ସାରମର୍ମ- ସେ ସୂକ୍ଷ୍ମତାର ଶକ୍ତିକୁ । ସେଥିପାଇଁ ତ ଚିଠିଟିଏ ମଧ୍ଯେ ସାଇତି ହୋଇ ରହିଯାଇଛି ସେ ହୃଦୟରୁ ଖଣ୍ଡେ !

/ 9

: 285

#D2June

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A Loose Translation:

A few words that tug at your heartstrings shelters some unseen unspoken words. Those unspoken words are much heavier than those that have been uttered. It, perhaps, is never possible to appraise the weight that these unspoken words have always carried.

The ink that penned those words in that letter have ever since dried up, and so has the stylus that housed it once. Immersed in the essence of these words, they have evanesced themselves- somewhere around the peripheral apogee of time's ultimate stance. Is it even possible for these depths of feelings to exist !

It's incomprehensible to imagine the sincerity, the sweetness that these words can encompass. Only a person who has loved Love can understand its essence - the power of that subtlety, that elegance, that etherealness. That is perhaps why the piece of that heart has been preserved in a letter!

/ 9

: 143

#D2June

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Sunday, June 1, 2025

To Be And Not To Be

"If you try enough, someday you too can be like someone."

Why would I want that?

"So, are you trying hard not to be like someone?"

Why would I do that either?

"Then?"

Why would I try to be or not to be like someone?

I just try to preserve my identity
And break free from it too.
To be enough of myself
And nothing of it too.
To immerse in my soul's core,
And fly away along with the breath of air.
To be AND not to be.

"It does not make any sense?"

Does it have to?

/ 15

: 99

#D1June

Thursday, May 22, 2025

मैं आर्टिस्ट नहीं

पता है मुझे,

मुझ में आर्टिस्टों वाली वह बात नहीं ।

ना अपना, या किसी का दुख लिखती हूं।

ना बेबसी, ना दिल टूटने का किस्सा लिखती हूं।

ना फ़िक्र, ना अपने जिंदगी का वह हिस्सा लिखती हूं।

जिसे सुनकर किसी का दिल करहा उठे,

ना वह लिखती हूं ।

ज़माना जिस लिखावट को कलाकार की दस्तख़त माने,

वह भी कहाँ लिखती हूं!

तो किस बात पर ज़माने से,

कला का कोई भी ख़िताब मांगु?

किस मुंह से कला की इस नगरी में,

अपना छोटा सा भी हिस्सा मांगु?

हां, लिखती हूं मैं, पर तब...

जब रूह बेचैनी में क़रार ढूंढे।

हां, लिखती हूं मैं...

पर खुशी का नज़राना, उम्मीद की आरजू,

हसीन यादों की गुनगुनाहट लिखती हूं मैं।

कि शायद... कभी कोई ढूंढते हुए आ जाए।

कि शायद... कोई पलभर खोकर, खुद से मिल जाए।

कि शायद... कभी कोई ग़मों के शोर में,

हँसी का सुर सुनने आ जाए।

कि शायद, शायद...मायूस आंखों के भीड़ में,

कोई अपने हिस्से के सपने बुनने आ जाए।

अगर उस कोई एक चेहरे को आशा मिल जाए,

पूरा पल भर ना सही, आधा पौना भर भी वह खिल जाए।

तो ना हुई कलाकार मैं, फिर भी कोई ग़म नहीं।

आर्टिस्टों में ना रहे कभी मेरा नाम,

उसका भी कोई शिकवा नहीं।

गुमनामी में रहलु, जिलुं, और खो जाऊँ,

उसका भी गिला नहीं।

उस पौने पल के लिए सब कुर्बान,

और उसका तिल भर का भी अफ़सोस नहीं।

हां, मैं आर्टिस्ट नहीं।

मुझ में आर्टिस्टों वाली वह बात नहीं।

मुझ में आर्टिस्टों वाली कोई भी बात नहीं।

/ 36

: 252

P.S. The loan word "आर्टिस्ट" (artist) has been intentionally used instead of the Hindi word "कलाकार".

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A Loose Translation:

I am not an Artist

I am aware

That I have no qualities

That an artist must possess.

I do not write

Of my own or someone else's sorrow,

Nor do I write about vulnerability,

Nor of stories of heartbreak.

I do not write of worries,

Nor do I write about that part of my life,

Which can make a heart sigh,

I don't even write of those aspects

That the world deems

To be an artist's signature!

So, why on earth,

Should I ask of the world

To bestow any title of art?

How could I look

For even a meager dwelling

In this vast elaborate city

Of art and artists?

Yes, I do write,

But only when the soul seeks peace

In disquietude.

Yes, I do write,

But I write of the gift of happiness,

A wish for hope,

And of the hum

Of beautiful memories.

Maybe someday,

Someone comes searching for it.

That maybe someday,

One discovers oneself,

After getting lost here

For a moment.

That maybe someday

Someone comes to rejoice

In the rhythm of laughter

Amidst the noises of sorrow.

That maybe, just maybe...

In the crowd of disappointed eyes,

Someone would come

To weave a utopia, of their share of dreams.

If that one face finds hope,

If not for a whole moment,

Even if it blossoms

For even a fragment of a moment.

Then I am okay

Being not an artist;

I would sacrifice it a million times over,

I wouldn't have an ounce of grief.

I wouldn't lament

Even if my name is never counted

Amongst those of artists.

I shall live in obscurity

Live and ultimately get lost some day,

Even then, I would not repine.

I would gladly sacrifice everything

For that fragment of a moment,

And I wouldn't have

Even an iota of regret for that.

Yes, I am not an artist.

I don't have that quality of an artist.

I don't have any quality of an artist.

/ 63

: 324

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Sunday, May 18, 2025

Crème Brûlée-d

Cold.

Visibly frozen. Feels cold too.

But it is that unseen warmth

That gives it its

Distinct Identity.

Only the chosen ones

Would know

And could feel

The warmth

That solidifies and unifies

Its sweetness.

Bold.

Hard. Tough like a weapon.

But the essence is in that

Creamy gentle softness

That defines its

Existence.

Only the souls

Who have the

Empathy to cross that

Firm shell

Can immerse in that

Soft caress.

/11 + 12

: 72

Wednesday, April 30, 2025

Let Destiny Word It As Poem

Decipher this, if you may

Who knows what it might say

I know not when, I know not why

Unbelievable as it might sound

Listen still, to the voice of the cloud.

It could be an idea, few thoughts,

Or perhaps a concept of sorts

All said and done,

It must move my heart,

Enthrall me, like when I feel an art.

And then there is something,

I could never fathom nor can I explain

All that ensues when

You, as my muse, reign.

Life becomes Love and Love, You

Destiny whispers of dreams anew

Wishes with wings fly to the sun

In the sparkle of stars

Unbeknownst to me,

Like words from soul, the stories spawn.

It has tales of my heart

Every beat of it, That has You

In every end, and at beginning's start.

I do not write a single word

I weave some to mask them, maybe

And be blurred

Enchanted in Your charm,

The words find a home

And I let it be called a poem.

/ 29

: 171

Monday, April 28, 2025

वक्त बेवक्त

जो अब नहीं, वह वक्त, वक्त नहीं ।

पर जब 'अब' ही अब नहीं,

तब वक्त बेवक्त की कोई कहानी नहीं ।

तमाम लम्हे जो गुजर गए,

उन में वक्त की बेवक्तियाँ भी

सलाम लेकर चले गए।

और वो लम्हे जो शायद होंगे कभी,

उन में भला वक्त शिकन डालेगा कैसे, क्यों कभी?

तो जो है, वो है... बस है ।

लिखना है तो अभी लिख लो अपनी कहानी कोई ।

क्योंकि हर वक्त वक्त है, बेवक्त नहीं ।

/ 11

: 141

N.B. Based on (and inspired by) the concepts of Quantum Mechanics and Multiverses, albeit in an extremely abstract way.

Beyond

On the first day of last spring

He felt a tug in the proverbial string

As she walked into his universe

That began that very day

With a divine aroma born into being

She was the epicenter of his existence

The meaning of his journey in every sense

His breath of esoteric air, she was,

In the eternal sea of cosmic essence

Her voice was the beacon

He never knew he searched for

And the depth of her soul-gazing eyes

Brought him to the sought-after shore

She knew too...

Of his heart that made hers beat

And of his angelic eyes

With that profound seraphic gaze

That smelled of divine flowers

And of everything sweet

His smile was the ethereal sky

That sheltered the clouds of her being

The container of her heart of imagination

That breathed colors into a magical spring

They conversed about light from stars

And of worlds that could be

They witnessed the seasons

And the birds fold their wings by the tree

They talked of the mystical rains

That lived and rambled beyond the plains

And of rivers and oceans of glee

And the holistic fabric that made the sea

But on the last day of their first winter

They did not know

Their words of togetherness

Would be like the words of a last letter

It would carry

The ambrosia of her essence

That once was

But also a potion of existing nothingness

That let their story pause

He no longer had his epicenter

Without life (her),

His existence did saunter

He would sometimes smile

But it missed the glory that she adored

Fate took her, but not in entirety. Never.

For they have promised their bond

To be beyond now and that of forever

Until then, he has their last words,

His treasure.

/ 50

: 300

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A Little Something:

This piece is written in a form similar (an inspired form) to a "Lay". Though a Lay generally follows a fixed rhyme scheme and is often written in octosyllabic verses, there are often Lays (one such written in the 13th century) that follows multiple rhyming schemes, verses of different lengths, i.e. non-uniform stanzas, and varying syllables.

The same has been done here, multiple rhyming schemes (but with a single rhythm) and verses with varying syllables. Of course, the quality is different. However, hope this piece conveys the love and narrative passion with which it was written.

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Saturday, April 26, 2025

खोज में मैं

मैं अगर कभी मैं ही ना रह पाऊँ

अपनी परछाईयों में अगर मैं ही खो जाऊँ

क्या ढूँढ लेगी मेरी रोशनी यूँही मुझको मुझ में

या उसके लिए सपनो का एक रोशनदान बनाऊँ

पर मैं कागज का बेमतलब सा कोई फूल नहीं

के बिन कहानी बिन खुशबू के मैं यूँही खो जाऊँ

मैं हूँ भिनी सी वो अनोखी अनसुनी गमक

के हवा के मुस्काती साँसो में मैं यूँ सज जाऊँ

बारिश की बूंदो में मैं सौंधी सी महक छुपाऊँ

आसमान से रंग लेके मैं दरिया में मिल जाऊँ

उस तेज दरिया के किस्सों में भी मैं बस जाऊँ

उन कहानीयों के हिस्सों में भी मैं रो-हस पाऊँ

पर उन में शामिल होके भी मुझको मुझ में ही पाऊँ

इस कथानक की कथा बादलों की स्याही में लिख जाऊँ

मैं हूँ अब भी जब है रोशनी और वह परछाई भी

रोशनी की परछाई और परछाई की रोशनी में मैं खुद को पाऊँ

/ 16

: 290

Friday, April 25, 2025

What Once Was And Will Never Be?

"What once was and will never be?"

"The waves in that turquoise sea", said she.

There still are waves
And perhaps there still will be
But they are not the ones that once were
For they are different :
The kiss between the breeze and the sea.

"What once was and will never be?"

"The fragrance of that first cosmos", said he.

There still are flowers of cosmos
And the perfumed air still lingers
But the one that bloomed first, that day of all
Would never ever be, even if time would stall.

One more time,
"What once was and will never be?"
They agreed to answer that together

When both were ready, at the count of three.

The letters* still are, and so are the words in it
Once they were mine, but not anymore, even a single bit
For they are now yours, my words and my thoughts
Though still mine, it has You, in days of warm winds
And even of frost.

The night wind still whistles in the cold
But that bleak mood, there's none of it to behold
My every breath that once was mine, is now yours
Though still mine, it has You, in days of warm winds
And even of frost.

/ 27

: 207

*P.S. "letters" in line 18 mean letters that have a sender and a receiver (sometimes), like postal letters.

Thursday, April 24, 2025

The Kid in Me

I was supposed to belong and conform to a "clan"

The kid in me let me "be" with a different plan

They told me innocence is dreadful and magic a hoax

The kid in me let me feel the enchantment the cosmos evokes

They told me logic is the only way

And emotion to be a weapon

The kid in me let me fall for the smile of flowers

And told me curiosity is a force to reckon

They told me knowledge is property

And mind a closed chamber

The kid in me let me fly in the openness of timeless wisdom

And told me imagination is a glorious saber

They told me creativity is a mechanical pawn

And dreams to be a fool's journal

The kid in me let me shine in the resplendence of thoughts

And told me dreams are divine and eternal

I was supposed to adhere to the dictated "normal"

The kid in me let me carve my own and be exceptional

/ 18

: 165

Wednesday, April 23, 2025

ମୁଁ ମଧ୍ୟ ନୁହେଁ ମୋ'ର

ଦେଖିଛି ତା' ଖୁସି ଜହ୍ନ ଭିଜା ନିଶାରେ

କଲ୍ଲୋଳିତ ତା' ହସ ମଧୁରୀମା ପ୍ରାତଃରେ

କିନ୍ତୁ କହେନା ସେ ମନ ଖୋଲି ମନ କଥା ମୋତେ

ଅଜଣା କି ମୁଁ ଏବେ ବି, ଥାଇ ସର୍ବଦା ତା' ପାଖରେ ?

ଦିନ ଆସେ ଦିନ ଯାଏ, ନିରନ୍ତର ସେ ବହି ଥାଏ

କୁଟା କାଠି ଝଡା ପତ୍ର, ସ୍ରୋତେ ତା'ର ବାହି ନିଏ

ବାହି ନିଏ ସେ ଅଝଟ ପ୍ରାର୍ଥନା, ପୁଣି ପଥିକର କ୍ଳାନ୍ତ ସ୍ମୃତି

ଅଲୋଡ଼ା କବିର କବିତାରେ କେବେକେବେ ପ୍ରେମର ଆବୃତ୍ତି

ମନେ ପଡି ଯାଏ ମୁଁ ଅକସ୍ମାତ ବୋଧେ... ମୋ ବକ୍ଷେ ଛାଡ଼ି ଯାଏ

କେବେ କିଛି ବସ୍ତୁ, କେବେ କିଛି ଅଖୋଜା କାହାଣୀର ଇତି ବୃତ୍ତି

(ତଥାପି କହେନା ସେ ମନ ଖୋଲି ମନ କଥା ତା'ର

ବେଳେବେଳେ ବାହି ନିଏ ସେ ସ୍ମୃତି ମଧ୍ୟୁ ସ୍ମୃତି ମଧ୍ୟ କିଛି)

କେବେ ପୁଣି ଆସେ ଆଷାଢ଼ର ସେ ଘନ ମେଘମାଳ,

ଝୁମି ଝୁମି ନାଚି ଉଠେ ଶୁଣି ଆକାଶର ମୃଦୁ ତାଳ

ଶ୍ରାବଣର ଧାରେ ପୁଣି କେବେ ହୁଏ ଭାବବିହ୍ବଳ

ଅଣାୟତ୍ତ ହୋଇ ଲଙ୍ଘିଯାଏ ମୋତେ, ଭସାଏ ସେ ସ୍ଥଳ

ରୋକିବାକୁ ଚାହିଁ ମଧ୍ୟ ମୁଁ କେବେ ବା ରୋକି ପାରିଛି

ଅପେକ୍ଷାରତ ଥାଇ ମଧ୍ୟ ସେ ମୋ ଅପେକ୍ଷା ବା କେବେ ବୁଝି ପାରିଛି

ତା' ଭାବରେ ଅସ୍ତିତ୍ୱରୁ କିଛି ତା' ଜଳେ ଜଳମଗ୍ନ କରିଛି

ଅବିରତ ତା' ଝଲକ ପାଇଁ ସମୁଦ୍ର ପାଖେ ମଧ୍ୟ ମୁଁ ବସା ବାନ୍ଧିଛି

(ତା' କୂଳ ମୁଁ, ସର୍ବଦା ନଦୀ ପାଇଁ ଚିହ୍ନିତ

ମୋ ନାଁ ରେ କ'ଣ କେବେ ନଦୀ ଚିହ୍ନା ପାଇଛି?)

ମନ କଥା ତା'କୁ କେବେ କେବେ କହିଛି

କିଛି କଥା ଏବେ ବି ଅକୁହା ରହି ଯାଇଛି

ତା' ଖୁସିରେ ଖୁସି ହୋଇ ଆପଣେଇଛି ମୋହ କୁ

ତା' ଦୁଃଖ ଦେଖି ରୋକିବି କେତେ ଅବା କୋହ କୁ

ମୋ ଖୁସି, ଦୁଃଖ, କୋହ, ମୋହ ତା' ପାଇଁ ଓ ତା'ର

ନିମିତ୍ତ ମୁଁ, ତା' ନାମେ ନାମିତ, ମୁଁ ମଧ୍ୟ ନୁହେଁ ମୋ'ର

/ 28

: 486

Monday, April 21, 2025

When the Book Speaks

With the words that were destined

To fill every corner and every nook

But these words really never belonged

How much ever you look

Frazzled and dusty, I lay

In the corner that every eye can reach

But no hands ever extend to turn the pages

Or glance at the words that enlivened them each

There are stories in me

That you may never understand

Even if you read them

For a thousand nights

For they are from the between-the-lines land

Where every plot offers never-seen-before sights

Still forgiving, I will always hold tales

That would make you whole

Even when termites of being jilted

Has left holes in my soul

Until my pages are tattered

And the warming words in me

Have faded into nonbeing

I will always be there

As an empathic listener

That would cater to your well-being.

/ 24

: 141 (145)

Monday, April 14, 2025

ଟିକିଏ କାନିକା ପରି

ପଚାରିଲେ ଜନନୀ ମୋ'ର, "କ'ଣ ଖାଇଛୁ ଆଜି ମା?"

ମୁଁ କହିଲି, "କିଛି ନାହିଁ।"
ସେ କହିଲେ (ବ୍ଯଙ୍ଗରେ),"ଖାଲି ପବନ ଖାଇଛୁ ତା'ହେଲେ।"
ମୁଁ କି ଏ ସୁଯୋଗ ଛାଡିବା ଲୋକ। ମୁଁ ମଧ୍ୟ କହିଲି,

"ଖାଲି ପବନ ନୁହେଁ ...
ଟିକିଏ ପବନ, ସେଥିରେ (ଗଛ ପତ୍ରର) ବର୍ଷା ପାଣି କଲି ମିଶ୍ରଣ ।
ଛିଡେଇ ଆଣି ଭସା ବାଦଲ ରୁ ଖଣ୍ଡେ,
ସଜେଇ ରଖିଲି ସେଥିରେ, ପୁଣି କହୁଛି ଶୁଣ...
ସଜ ଫୁଟା ଫୁଲର ମହକ ଟିକିଏ ଆଣି,
ତା' ଉପରେ ଛିଞ୍ଚି ଦେଲି ହାଲକା ହାଲକା ପୁଣି।"

ଏହା ଶୁଣି କହିଲେ ସେ, "ଆରେ ବାଃ ! ବଢିଆ କବିତା। "

"କବିତା ? ଏ କି କବିତା ? ଇଏ କ'ଣ କବିତା !?," ବୋଲି କହିଲି ମୁଁ।

ଆପଣ ମାନେ କୁହନ୍ତୁ ତ...

ଓଡ଼ିଆ ଖାଦ୍ୟରେ ଭାତ ର ମହତ୍ତ୍ୱର ସରି,
ଜନନୀ ମଧ୍ୟ ମୋ'ର ଠିକ ସେମିତି
ଟିକିଏ କାନିକା ପରି...

କାନିକାର ମିଠା ମିଠା ସ୍ବାଦ ଭଳି,
ମିଠା କଥା ଥା'ନ୍ତି ସେ କହି ।
ପୁଣି କେବେ ଅଳେଇଚ, ଡାଲଚିନି ମସଲା ଭଳି,
ବ୍ଯଙ୍ଗଭରା କଥାର ଛୁଙ୍କ ମଧ୍ଯ ଥାଏ ତହିଁ ।
ଦେଶି ଘିଅ ଭଳି ଥାଏ ଯତ୍ନ ଓ ପୋଷଣ
ପ୍ରଭୁ ପାଦେ କରିଥାନ୍ତି ସେ ସର୍ବଦା ଜଣାଣ।

ଓଡ଼ିଆ ଖାଦ୍ୟରେ ଭାତ ର ମହତ୍ତ୍ୱର ସରି,
ଜନନୀ ମଧ୍ୟ ମୋ'ର ଠିକ ସେମିତି
ଟିକିଏ କାନିକା ପରି...

/25

: 146

==============================

A Little Something:

The conversation mentioned here happened as it is... exactly as mentioned. So, permission and consent has been taken accordingly.

The last 12 lines may come as a surprise for her.

==============================

Sunday, April 13, 2025

Love Like Hers

Like the ferocious storm
That could capsize entire oceans
Like the exquisite redolence
Of the pristine flower from heavens

Like the astute philosopher
Perceiving an entire cosmos in thoughts
Like the whimsical butterfly
Gliding by, radiating rapture beyond noughts

Like the refreshing zephyr
Of the summer moon
Like the warm sunshine
Of the winter noon
Like the peachy glimmer
During the birth of dawn
Like the purple shimmer
The silken gloaming has spawn

How could mere words be ever enough?
Even imagining a Love like hers is beyond tough.

For when she loves
She is born
For when she loves
Eternity has her heart adorn
For when she loves
She is earth's profound emotion
For when she loves
She has the sky in motion

She loves like the fiery passion in heart's heart
She loves like the dreamy calmness in ethereal art
She loves like Time has never been born
She loves like Space is still in the cosmic churn

Yet she stands as if she is
Of an inconsequential presence
It would need gems for eyes
To comprehend her divine essence

How could mere words be ever enough?
Even imagining a Love like hers is beyond tough.

/36

: 198

Saturday, April 12, 2025

A Quiet Note to Her

The clean crisp soft notes

Of the Dressroom scents
And the remnant hints that
The seldom-used peppermint oil presents

Just the kind of unusual harmony
She walks on
That no one else would expect
But I know how she finds it just perfect

She would stare at me
For what could be seconds or hours
The next moment

She would be in those pages
Or humming about

Blue galaxies or flowers

That's just her version
Of quotidian aspects she lives by
That no one else would have to wonder
But I know how frustrating it feels
When she gawks at an invisible sky
And would ponder

All said and done,
As her pillow
I wish I could tell her things
That I would be there
Through the weary winters
And sparkling springs

/ 26

: 132

Pages

Friday, June 13, 2025

Thursday, June 12, 2025

Wednesday, June 11, 2025

Monday, June 9, 2025

Friday, June 6, 2025

Tuesday, June 3, 2025

Sunday, June 1, 2025

Thursday, May 22, 2025

Sunday, May 18, 2025

Wednesday, April 30, 2025

Monday, April 28, 2025

Saturday, April 26, 2025

Friday, April 25, 2025

Thursday, April 24, 2025

Wednesday, April 23, 2025

Monday, April 21, 2025

Monday, April 14, 2025

Sunday, April 13, 2025

Saturday, April 12, 2025

About Me