Unsaid

So much left unsaid,

waiting for a reply..

If only tombstones could speak 

Letters to self 2

Dear self,

I last wrote about the Sunday where I managed to carve out some me time. The week has been a blur with lots of work, late nights, juggling home and office and a tooth ache.. I have been writing a lot of letters though.. which is quite welcoming in the otherwise mundaneness of everyday..

Today, I was asking myself - what is it with defining your own crazy? Why do you need it? Who do you need that wee bit extra? There are so many just content with mundane .. what are you seeking and why? 

So, my logical self will always draw up a list of why’s and try and put a rationale to it. I tried doing that . The fact that we all need self time, we need something which defines us , what is crazy, isn’t that relative etc... 

But, this truly defies logic ... it’s just how one is made.. some will get it, some will not.  However, if at your core you are someone who always likes odds or wants that extra piece then 

To be continued... 

Anondo

Aaj shei Falgun,

Rodh ei hawah,

Hawah boye rodh.

Ektu mishti bhaab,

Shei belli Phool

Er gondo hawai .

Aaj Robibar,

Anek golpo anek boi,

Pencil dei hawa aanka,

Ki anondo aakash ei batash ei.

Today is the advent of spring

There is a sun with the breeze

The breeze carries the sun

Bit of sweetness in the air

Gorgeous jasmine flowers 

Spread the fragrance in the air

Today is Sunday

Lots of stories and books

Trying to draw the wind with a pencil

So much joy in the sky and wind..

In search of Darcy………

Its inexplainable

Unfathomable

As enticing as obnoxious

The dark, dreary and deep

To delve in pride

Sometimes vain

Sometimes prejudicial

Most often lonely

Anyone in possession

Of good fortune

Must want a life

Bennet or not

A certain struggle

With vanity

Be it arrogance or conceit

Or a mere self-disdain

Untamed freedom

A mind of your own

Searching for love

And hating it too

.. In search of Darcy

जागो

वो सूखी परत

चाई की भुली प्याली पे

वो नए चाँदी और सफ़ेद

काले केसूँ के बीचों बीच

वो नयीं किताब

पे धूल के ढेर उधेर

वो स्कूल की सहेली

के जन्मदिन पे भुला एक कोल

वो बक्से में बंध घुंगरू

को हर साल संभाल कर रखना

वो अपनी सम्भाली खाते 

में अंगिनिथ अधूरे कहानियाँ

वो अंकहे अनसूने अल्फ़स 

हम  दोनो की बीच

वो जल्द गुज़रती यह जिंदिगनी

अधूरा , अनदेखा बहुत कुछ

कुछ याद दिलाती, कुछ उकसती

ख़ुद को जगा के रख, ऐ मुसाफ़िर

Smoke and fire

Brishti

Tapur tupur 

Sounds of relief

Of greener greens

Muddy boots

Puddles and pours

Cloud bursts 

The whiff

Fresher 

Purer 

A newness 

That first rain

Heart full and 

Rain felt today