Solitude with Coffee

When I walk alone, you come always

You hold my hand.

It brings the solitude.

Every day I look for a story,

A story of life.

Every day I find blank faces.

Are you also alone like me,

Can’t we sit together,

with coffee.

Just you and me

 

Advertisements

The Last Time

The last time we kissed was an evening

It was gone in a moment.

When I look back today, it was a touch

of a glorious life.

When I gaze with the wistful eyes,

you come sometime, sit with me.

Talk to me for hours.

I know life changes,

but the last time we kissed

it was an evening, which never came again,

 

আমার থামতে শেখা

a06aa4b08920e77f22e7d5479862d95e--coffee-and-books-cup-of-coffee

 

নতুন জীবনের প্রভাবে বাংলা লেখার অভ্যেসটা ক্রমশ কমে গিয়েছে | এমন একটা সময় এসে দাঁড়িয়েছি যেখানে ইঙরাজি ভাষাটা লিখলে পাঠকরা খুশী হয়না, আর বাংলাতে নিজে লিখেতে ভরসা পাই না | কিন্তু তবুও আমার ছোটবেলাতে শেখা আমার এই ভাষা আমার সব থেকে কাছের |

আজ নিজেকে অনেকগুলো প্রশ্ন করতে ইচ্ছে করে। ইচ্ছে করে জিজ্ঞেস করতে যে আমার ভাষা কি? জখন বার বার শুনি যে আমার ভাষা তে ব্যাক্ত কথার মানে বোঝা যায় না তখন একটা অদ্ভুত কষ্ট গ্রাস করে নিজেকে। বোঝাতে পারিনা সেই ব্যাথার যন্ত্রণাটা।

পথ চলতে চলতে যখন থামতে হয়, সেই মুহূর্ত খুব কঠিন। আমরা কেউ কখনো থামতে চাই না। আমরা চাই যে পথ যাতে কখনও না শেষ হয়। আমার ক্লান্ত পথ আমায় শিখিয়েছে প্রতিবার হেরে গিয়ে কিভাবে জেতার জন্য লড়তে হয়।

পথ হারিয়েছে পথের ভাবনায়, আমি চলেছি আমার স্বপ্নে। পৃথিবীর সমস্ত আলো এক জায়গায় এসে যেখানে থেমে যায় সেখানে, রাত্রি আসে। রাত্রি আসে চুপি চুপি। যখন আমার শহরের ক্লান্ত গাছগুলো নিজেকে প্রকাশ করতে ভয় পায়, তখন সে আসে। হাতে হাত রেখে বলে বাঁচার কথা।

জীবন মানে শূন্যতা নয়, তবে ভয় নিয়ে আসে তাকে। আমরা প্রতি মুহূর্তে আকাশের দিকে তাকাতে ভয় পাই। আকাশ যেন সব উত্তর জানে। আমারা জানতে চাই না সেই উত্তর তবে শুধু খুঁজে যেতে চাই। শহরের যে নরম গন্ধ আমায় চিনিয়েছে জীবন। সেই গন্ধকে আজ আমি লুকিয়ে রাখতে পারি না আর।

মৃত্যূর কাছে হার মানি না আমরা। পৃথিবীর সব স্তব্ধতা পেরিয়ে আমাদের কান্না পৌঁছায় না কোথাও। তবে কি আমরা কাঁদতে ভুলে যাচ্ছি নাকি কান্না লুকিয়ে রাখছি। ভাবতে গেলে থামতে হয়। আমার থামতে শেখা নিজেকে হারানোর জন্য নয়, খুঁজে নেওয়ার জন্য।

Love at the roads of old Delhi

Delhi summers this time was hotter than every year. The roads were mostly empty at the noon. People traveling covered their faces to avoid the hot air. While Delhi was going through a bad time, S was really not feeling the summer that bad.

S, was drowned with the memories of his Delhi days. The days where he found his first love. He has witnessed many relationships around. But the time with J was so different.

They never meat again. They never met because they never wanted to meet. They ended the relationship with a lot of bitterness. When everyday S felt how stupid he was and how selfish J has always been. Then time was gone. The bitterness of the memories made a small room at his heart and disappeared. The only memories he had was the beautiful time they spent together.

The day was bright and sunny. There was not a single cloud at the sky. The smell of Rajma-Chowl at the nearby restaurant was unbearable to take. People was busy with their regular routine because life should go on. The leafs  of the trees were dusty and everyone in Delhi was waiting for rain.

S, had not expectations that the time should change. He knew that time follows its own way and if you expect something to happen that might not happen. But people expect because they do not have any other things to do. Just the way S expected the love from J believing that she loves him the same way he does.

S, returned Delhi after 20 long years. It was a long time indeed. He never wanted to come back in this city anymore. He avoided the city overtime. Even if for a meeting he never came to this city. But after these many years he never felt to come back to this city.

S, got a new job. Now he is the chief political analyst with a media house. It was his dream always. The day he got this news, S was happy and then suddenly he was drowned amidst the memories of his old Delhi days. Where he saw a dream to be a journalist, holding the hands of J. Walking through the roads of old Delhi, they wrote those dreams. He knew that J has achieved everything she wanted but he failed.

Today, when he wants to celebrate his dream, how can he miss the smell of old Delhi.

A Day At Jama Masjid In The Time of Ramadan

IMG_7804( Prayer for a better life)

IMG_7808
He doesn’t know know what it is for but was trying to follow all
IMG_7814
The innocence
IMG_7818
Hand of man
IMG_7822
For dreams
IMG_7915
Some yummy chicken tikka
IMG_7911
The classic badam milk bottles
IMG_7907
Dry fruits are special in this market
IMG_7904
Firni, Rabri and other sweets
IMG_7902
You should not miss the special Shahi Tukra
IMG_7898
The variety of food at Ramadan market
IMG_7897
Stacks of chicken kakab
IMG_7894
Chicken Kababs at the Ramadan market
IMG_7886
Ramadan market is all set
IMG_7884
Visit to this Ramadan market is incomplete with these sweets
IMG_7882
These special jalebis are yummy
IMG_7875
People buying snacks for Iftar
IMG_7873
Ramadan market
IMG_7870
The road in the time of Ramadan
IMG_7868
Paneer Jalebi the special for Iftar
IMG_7866
Iftar and you should not miss these snacks
IMG_7860
Entrance of Jama Masjid
IMG_7857
Entrance of Jama Masjid
IMG_7825
The sacred water
IMG_7838
After Namaz some chit-chat
IMG_7840
People going back home after Namaz
IMG_7841
After Namaz
IMG_7853
Jama Masjid, after Namaz
IMG_7824
They have their own dreams

Light of the darkness

Everyday I mess up my life

That day may be was different

I reached the crowded station

You came down from the train

The first time we met

The first time I saw eyes with differences

We were always different

In every fight to all the smiles

We never stopped walking for miles

Today when I look back

Go back to the memories

Of that day,

Where I found

My light of the darkness.

**********************************

…….Sayantan……..

Delhi, where my love began

A narrow street of Delhi. Sound of trains were coming from the New Delhi Railway Station. The street was full of shops selling colourful clothes and antiques. I was walking through that busy street, looking at people. The pedestrians were mostly foreigners.

It is Paharganj of Delhi. My every walk in this city carries many secrets of my life. People say life is small. May be it is. I never stopped enjoying my life. I wish not to.

There are times when we all feel that life is boring. That is the time when you should stop for a while, take a deep breath and realise that you are alive.

The city of Delhi is a very important of my life. I found my first dear love in this city. I relationship which changed me from every aspect. The city is very special because of my endless struggle to survive. I have failed, and again failed but then realise that there is no harm in failure.

The narrow streets, people of this city and the smells were my life. If you walk through the lanes of Jama Masjid, you will get smells of kababs, shahi tukra and fried chicken. These memories are very important in my life.

Today, when I do not know what is there waiting for me tomorrow, then I go back to these memories. My love and me we have spent some beautiful times walking along these streets. My love story started from these narrow roads of Delhi.

We do not know that tomorrow we will be together or not. But the memories of this city are our love. In a rain drenched evening when people were hurrying to go back home. We didn’t, we walked and reached some small tea shop of the Old Delhi.

Love is forever but relationships can break. Let us make our life full of good memories.