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Showing posts from July, 2020

The Dark

                                                                 The dark Bubai was afraid of the dark. He had been told umpteen times by his elders that dark is nothing but the absence of light. Besides there's nothing called ghosts. Ghosts don't exist.He would  listen to them attentively but forget everything at night when it's time for bed. After all he's just a five year old kid! the same rooms, that have been the joy land of his kiddish pandemonium during the daylight , would turn scary at night. Be it the windows, window-pane, the door,the ceiling fan,the tube light, the clothes rack,the floor even the curtains...they would all become source of suspicion and fear. The brave pirate inside Bubai would turn into a nervy chick fallen from the nest placed safely in the branch of a tall tree at night... The night would ...

santu's observation

                                                          Santu's observation The daylight focused people's attention to the corner of the blind street where the dustbin was. There was  a huge monkey with a tail as long as the cold dark corridor of Santu's school's 2nd floor. It seemed from the way she was exploring the dirty foul smell-emitting dustbin that it must be hungry. But the moment human eyes were fixed at him, he looked withdrawn and lazy.She sat on the middle of the narrow street with philosophic eyes. Dogs came to unleash venomous anger but her impassivity let them down so much that they too turned into spectators. The monkey yawned then and then with half-shut eyes played with flies with its' tail. Out of veneration, few people offered her food while the rest decided to watch it. The monkey munched a bit of banana but then th...

New friend

                                                           new friend Tooltool,the squirrel was a fool. Rest of his friends thought so. They ought not be friendly with humans. They had been told by their elders about the human's cruelty against them but look at Tooltool...!He was just so daring. He not only looked out for food in the rooftop but kept on exploring its space even in the presence of of those humans. It's not that Tooltool was hungry. Like any other squirrel he could have his food in plenty in that nearby garden but what set him apart from the rest was his curiosity. He had never believed in what his parents told him or what their ancestors had told them...why should he when he could go and check. He was told he would  better get the training from the elders before climbing a tree. He didn't. In stead he tried on his own....

old dictionary

                                                           old dictionary The dusty old book knew it would happen. Along with other scraps it were to be sold.  It tried its best to hide itself. But its voluminous size was easy to detect. It was after all a dictionary and as we all know dictionaries need to be updated so nobody would be bothered about an old one that too torn,dusty with countless dog-eared pages. The little kid once chanced to get hold of it. He cried for not being able to lift it and hurt himself by getting it fall on him. The book thought the kid would save him.But that option too backfired. The kids shouldn't be trusted...that too a 4year old. Days seemed to be so short...they were elapsing so fast. Nothing eventful happened during that time except a mild commotion since some important banking papers were missing. T...

Old Moon

                                                  flash fiction The moon did become old at least to the big round eyes of that little owl. The couple of years he breathed the air on earth had been great except that hanging white round-shaped  thing. The overcast sky though hid it so did the new moon phase but still it dared to reappear and that too in its old white round-shaped avatar. The owl talked to his spectacles-wearing parents who told there's nothing more beautiful than moon. Little owl was not happy with the answer and so he decided to bring it down to the ground with the help of a rope. One night when the rest of his family was busy chatting with the neighbouring owls, he began his journey. On his way he met other animals and birds who would be be busy working in the dark. They too tried to make him understand that moon in deed is the most beautiful...

āĻŦāϞা āĻŦাāĻ•ি

āĻĨাāĻ•া āĻ–াāĻ“ā§Ÿা āύি⧟ে āϘāϰ , āĻĒāϰিāϏāϰ āĻāĻŦং āφāϰ āĻŦাāĻ•ি āϏāĻŦ āĻ—ুāĻ›ি⧟ে āύিāϜেāĻ•ে āϝāĻ–āύ āĻŽাāĻĒি... āϰাāϤেāϰ āĻ…āύ্āϧāĻ•াāϰে āύীāϰāĻŦāϤা⧟ āĻšাāϤāϰা⧟ āϝে āĻšাāĻ“ā§Ÿা āϝাāϰ āύাāĻ•ি āĻāĻ–āύো āĻŦাāĻ•ি āĻŦিāĻŦেāĻ•-āĻ–ুঁāϜে āĻĒাāĻ“ā§Ÿা; āĻ•āχ āϏেāĻ“āϤো āĻŦāϞে āύা āĻ­ুāϞে āϤাāϰ āĻ…āĻļāϰীāϰী āϤāϰ্āϜāύী āϤুāϞে, "āϚুāĻĒ āĻŦ্āϝাāϟা āϜ্āĻžাāύāĻĒাāĻĒী!"

āĻšāĻ াāϤ

  āĻĻিāύāϝাāĻĒāύেāϰ āĻāχ āϏāĻŦ āĻĒোāĻ•া-āĻ–াāĻ“ā§Ÿা āĻŦāχāĻāϰ āĻĒাāϤা  āωāϞāϟাāϤে  āωāϞāϟাāϤে āĻ—ুāĻšাāĻŽাāύāĻŦেāϰ āĻŦিāϏ্āĻŽā§Ÿ  āϝāĻĻি āĻĢিāϰে āφāϏে āϝা āĻĻি⧟ে āϤাāϰা āϤাāĻ•াāϤো āύāĻ•্āώāϤ্āϰāĻĒুāĻž্āϜেāϰ āĻĻিāĻ•ে। āĻ•োāĻĨাāĻ“ āĻ•ি āĻĢিāϰে āφāϏāϤো āύা āĻ•োāύো āύāϤুāύ āϏ্āĻĒৃāĻšা āĻĒ্āϰ⧟াāϏে? āĻĒ্āϰāĻļ্āύāĻ—ুāϞো āĻ›ুāϟে āϝা⧟ āϘāϰ-āϚৌāĻ•াāĻ -āφāϏāĻŦাāĻŦ-āĻŽাāϏāĻ•াāĻŦাāϰ āĻĨেāĻ•ে āĻĻুāϰে āφāϰো āĻĻুāϰে āĻļুāĻĻ্āϧ āĻļূāύ্āϝāϤা⧟ āĻ•িāĻ›ু āĻĻ্āĻŦিāϧা āĻšাāϤāϰাāϤে । āφāĻŽাāϰ āϚোāĻ– āϤāĻ–āύ āĻĻৃāώ্āϟিāϤে āϞাāĻ—াāĻŽ āϟাāύে  āϏাāĻŦāϧাāύে āĻ…āύুāϚ্āĻ›াāϏে āĻ…āύ্āϧ āĻ—āϞিāϰ āĻ–োāϞা āύāϰ্āĻĻāĻŽা⧟ āĻ•াāĻ—āϜেāϰ āύৌāĻ•া āĻ­েāϏে āϝেāϤে āĻĻেāĻ–ে;āĻšৃāĻĻ⧟āĻ…āϰāĻŖ্āϝে āĻ—ুāĻšাāĻŽাāύāĻŦেāϰ āĻļ্āϰাāĻŦāĻŖ āϤāϤāĻ•্āώāĻŖে āωāĻĒāϚে  āĻĒ⧜েāĻ›ে āĻ­ুāϞāϚুāĻ•ে!

coconut tree

 Rainbow didn't last that long so that she get the perfect shot. There was another spoiler. The coconut tree that stood there guarding that beautiful rainbow from being viewed. Along with her he too blamed that tree till he saw a torn kite hanging there and he got nostalgic of those childhood days when he used to toil too hard to fly kites with his elder brother. Their passion for kite was such that even when the uncle shifted to metropolis the elder brother  would be back amidst all the engagements...even when he was grown-up.The funny thing was that coconut tree always used to be a troublemaker whenever they would focus on kite-flying...they too would curse the tree but then they would laugh.Time as it does played some tricks with them in such a way that a feud was born making it impossible to keem each other in talking terms. Situation didn't change much even after children born to each family. Her mention of coconut tree made him nostalgic again.The dark was engulfing the ...

evening

Evening melts on the earth:Conch blown,drunkards' cry. Eyes could see shadow of bats that did fly to bleak tomorrow reluctantly.

āĻĒোāĻ•া

āĻĒোāĻ•াāϟাāϰ āĻŦিāώ⧟ে āĻĒোāĻ•াāϟাāϰ āφāϰ āĻ•িāĻ›ু āĻ•āϰাāϰ āĻ›িāϞāύা।āϰাāϤে āϘāϰে āφāϞো āĻĻেāĻ–ে āĻĸুāĻ•ে āĻĒ⧜ে āĻĢেঁāϏে āĻ—েāĻ›ে।āϜাāύāϞাāĻ—ুāϞো āĻŦ⧜ āĻŦ⧜ āĻ–োāϞা āĻĨাāĻ•āϞেāĻ“ āĻŦেāϰোāĻŦাāϰ āϜো āύেāχ।āϜাāϞ āĻĻেāĻ“ā§Ÿা।āĻ“ āĻŦোāĻেāύি।āĻ…āύ্āϧāĻ•াāϰে āĻĨাāĻ•ে āφāϞোāϟা āĻ“āĻ•ে āϘāϰেāϰ āĻŽāϧ্āϝে āφāύাāϰ āĻāĻ•āϟা āĻ•ৌāĻļāϞ āĻ›িāϞ।āϘāϰāϟা⧟ āφāĻ›ে āĻ†ā§ŸোāϜāύ āφāĻ›ে āϏāĻŦ।āĻ“āϰ āĻŽāϤ āϤুāϚ্āĻ› āĻ•্āώুāĻĻ্āϰ āĻĒ্āϰাāĻŖীāϰ āĻšিāϏেāĻŦে āϤো āĻāϞাāĻšী!āĻ“ āϘুāϰেāĻ›ে āϘāϰāĻŽā§Ÿ।āĻ•িāύ্āϤু āĻŦাāϧ āϏেāϧেāĻ›ে āĻ­োāϰ।āϝāϤ āφāϞো⧟ āĻ­েāϏেāĻ›ে āĻŦাāχāϰেāϟা,āϘāϰেāϰ āĻ…āύ্āϧāĻ•াāϰ āϤāϤ āϏ্āĻĒāώ্āϟ āĻšā§ŸেāĻ›ে।āĻ“ āφāĻŦাāϰো āϜাāύāϞা⧟ āĻ—ি⧟েāĻ›ে āĻ‰ā§œে।āĻĻ্āϝাāĻ–ে,āϜাāϞে āφāϟāĻ•ে āφāĻ›ে āĻ…āύেāĻ• āĻŽāĻļা।āϝাāĻĻেāϰ āϟিāĻĒে āϟিāĻĒে āĻšেāϞা⧟ āĻŽেāϰে āĻĢেāϞāĻ›ে āĻŦ⧜ āϰোāĻŽāĻļ āĻāĻ•āϟা āĻšাāϤ।āĻŽāĻļাāĻ—ুāϞোāĻ•ে āĻĨেঁāϤāϞে āĻĻিāϞে āϰāĻ•্āϤেāϰ āĻ›াāĻĒ āĻĨাāĻ•āĻ›ে।āĻŽāĻļাāĻ—ুāϞো āĻ…āĻŦাāϧ্āϝ āĻŦāϰাāĻŦāϰ āχ।āĻ āϰāĻ•্āϤāĻ•্āώ⧟েāϰ āĻ–āϤি⧟াāύ āĻ“āχ āϜাāϞেāχ āĻļুāĻ•ি⧟ে āϝাāĻŦে।āϘāϰে āĻ…āύুāĻļাāϏিāϤ āĻšāĻ“ā§Ÿাāϰ āĻĒāĻĻ্āϧāϤিāϤে āĻĒোāĻ•াāϟাāϰ āĻŦোāϧāĻšā§Ÿ āϏāĻŽ্āĻ­াāĻŦāύা āĻŦেāĻļি।āϤাāχ āφāϰ āĻ•িāĻ›ু āĻ•āϰাāϰ āύেāχ āϝāĻ–āύ āϤāĻ–āύāχ āϏে āĻĻ্āϝাāĻ–ে āĻāĻ• āĻ•াāĻĒ āϚা āϤাāϰāχ āϜāύ্āϝ āϰাāĻ–া āϟেāĻŦিāϞে। pratik

āĻĒ্āϰāϏāĻ™্āĻ—āĻ•্āϰāĻŽে

āĻŦেāĻļ āϤো āĻšāϞ। āĻĻুāχ āĻ āĻĻুāχāĻ āϚাāϰ...āĻ•িāĻŽ্āĻŦা āĻĒাঁāϚ!āĻ–াāϰাāĻĒ āĻ•ি? āϝে āϝাāϰ āĻŽāϤ āĻĻাāύ āϚাāϞো। āĻĒāĻ•্āώāϤো āĻĻুāϟো--- āϤুāĻŽি āφāϰ āϏে। āύা āĻšā§Ÿ āύাāχ āĻŦা āϚāϞāϞে āϤোāĻŽāϰা āϘাāϏে āĻŽুāĻ– āĻĻি⧟ে।āĻ•িāύ্āϤু āĻুঁāĻ•ি? āύেāĻŦেāύা,āύেāĻŦেāύা āĻ•েāω ; āϚৌāĻ•াāĻ  āĻĨেāĻ•েāχ āĻŦা⧜াāύো āĻĒা⧟ে āĻĸেāω... āĻ“āϟুāĻ•ুāχ  āφāϏ্āĻ•াāϰা āφāϰ āϤাāϰ āϟুāĻ•িāϟাāĻ•ি। āĻĒাāĻļাāĻĒাāĻļি āĻĻুāϟো āϘāϰ āĻŦāĻĻāϞাāϤে āĻĨাāĻ•ে āϤাāĻĻেāϰ āĻĒāϰিāϚ⧟েāϰ āϏāĻŽ্āĻŦāϞāĻ“; āĻ•āĻ–āύো āφāĻĒāύ āĻ•āĻ–āύো āĻĒāϰ।

āĻ›াāĻĻ āĻŦিāώ⧟āĻ•

āĻšাāĻ“ā§Ÿাāϟা āφāĻŦাāϰ āϚাāϞু āĻšāϞে āĻ›াāĻĻেāϰ āĻĒ্āϰāϤি āĻŽা⧟াāϟা āĻĢিāϰে āφāϏে।āĻ›াāĻĻ āĻ“āĻ•ে āϏāĻŦāϏāĻŽā§Ÿ āφāĻļ্āϰ⧟ āĻĻি⧟েāĻ›ে āĻāĻŽāύāĻ•ি āϝāĻ–āύ āĻ“ āĻ•েঁāĻĻেāĻ“āĻ›ে āϏāύ্āϧ্āϝেāĻŦেāϞা।āĻ•াāύ্āύাāϟা āύাāĻ•ি āĻŽে⧟েāϞি।āĻŦāĻšুāĻ•াāϞ āφāĻ—ে āĻ“āϰ āĻĻাāĻĻু āĻŦāϞāϤো।āĻ•াāύ্āύাāϰ āĻ•াāϰāĻŖāϟা āĻ­ুāϞে āĻ—েāĻ›ে।āϤāĻ–āύ āĻ›াāĻĻে āĻļেāĻĄ āĻ›িāϞāύা।āĻŽুāώāϞāϧাāϰে āĻŦৃāώ্āϟিāϤে āϞāϤāĻĒāϤে āϜাāĻŽাāϟা āϚাāĻŽā§œাāϰ āϏাāĻĨে āϞেāĻĒ্āϟে āĻ›িāϞো।āύিāϚে āύেāĻŽে āϜাāĻŽা āĻ–ুāϞে āĻ–াāϞি āĻ—া āĻšā§ŸেāĻ›িāϞ।āĻ–াāϞি āĻ—া⧟ে āĻļিāĻšোāϰিāϤ āĻšāĻ“ā§Ÿাāϰ āĻ“āϰ āφāϰ āĻāĻ•āϟা āĻ…āĻ­িāϜ্āĻžāϤা āĻšā§ŸেāĻ›িāϞ āφāϰো āĻ•ā§ŸেāĻ• āĻŦāĻ›āϰ āĻĒāϰে।āĻĻা⧜ি āĻāĻ•āϟু āĻŦে⧜ে āĻ—েāϞেāχ āϤāĻ–āύ āϏেāĻ—ুāϞোāϤে āĻĒাāĻ• āϧāϰāϤো।āĻ…āĻŽুāĻ•েāϰ āĻŦোāύāϟা āĻ“āϰāĻ“ āĻŦোāύেāϰ āĻŽāϤāύ āĻ›িāϞ।āϏেāχ āϏāĻŦāϜে āĻ…āύ্āϧāĻ•াāϰে āĻĄোāĻŦা āĻĻুāĻĒুāϰে āĻ•ি āϝে āĻšā§ŸেāĻ›িāϞ  āĻ“āϰ।āĻ•েāύ āϝে āϤāĻ–āύ āĻ…āĻŽুāĻ•েāϰ āĻŦা⧜িāϤেāĻ“ āĻ•েāω āĻ›িāϞāύা?āϏেāĻĻিāύāĻ“ āĻŦা⧜ি āĻĢিāϰে āĻ›াāĻĻেāχ āϚāϞে āĻ—ি⧟েāĻ›িāϞ āĻ“।āĻ›াāĻĻে āϤāĻ–āύ āĻļেāĻĄ āϞাāĻ—āĻŦে āϞাāĻ—āĻŦে āĻ•āϰāĻ›ে।āĻ“āϰāχ āĻŦি⧟েāϰ āϤোāϰāϜোāϰ।āφāϜāĻ•েāϰ āĻŽāϤāύ āĻšাāĻ“ā§Ÿাāϟা āϤāĻ–āύāĻ“ āĻļুāϰু āĻšā§Ÿāύি।āĻ›াāĻĻে āĻ…āύ্āϝāĻĻিāύেāϰ āĻŽāϤ āĻ“ āφāϜ āĻāĻ•া āĻ›িāϞ āύা।āĻ…āύিāύ্āĻĻিāϤাāĻ“ āĻ›িāϞ।āϤāĻŦে āĻ…āύেāĻ•āĻĻিāύেāϰ āĻĒুāϰোāύো āύিāĻĨāϰ āĻĒ্āϰাāĻŖāĻšীāύ āĻĻেāĻš āύি⧟ে।āφāĻļেāĻĒাāĻļেāϰ āĻŽাāĻĨা-āϤুāϞে āĻĻাঁ⧜াāύো āĻĢ্āϞ্āϝাāϟāĻŦা⧜ি āĻĨেāĻ•ে āϏে āĻ•ি āĻ•ৌāϤুāĻšāϞ!āĻĒুāϞিāĻļ āĻāϏে āĻĒ⧜āĻŦে āϝেāĻ•োāύো āϏāĻŽā§Ÿে।āφāϏুāĻ•,āϤāĻŦে āĻŽুāϞ āĻ…āĻĢিāϏাāϰāϟা āϝāĻĻি āωāϤ্āϤāĻŽ āωāϤ্āϤāĻŽ āϏ্āϟাāχāϞে āĻ•āĻĨা āĻŦāϞে,āĻŦেāĻļ āĻšāĻŦে!āĻ“ āĻĻোāϞāύা⧟ āĻŦāϏে āĻšাāĻ“ā§Ÿা āĻ–েāϤে āĻ–েāϤে āĻ›াāĻĻāϟাāϰ āĻ•āĻĨা āĻ­াāĻŦে।āĻ…āύিāύ্āĻĻিāϤাāϰ āĻļāϰীāϰেāϰ āĻĻুāϰ্āĻ—āύ্āϧ āĻ“āĻ•ে āĻŦিāĻļেāώ āĻŦিāϚāϞিāϤ āĻ•āϰে āύা।āĻ“ āĻ­াāĻŦে āĻ­াāĻŦāϤে āĻĨাāĻ•ে āĻ›াāĻĻāϟা āĻ•āϤ āĻŽা⧟...

āχāϏ্āĻ•ুāϞেāϰ āĻ—েāϟ

āĻŦāĻ›āϰ āĻĻāĻļেāĻ• āĻŦ⧟āϏ āĻšāĻŦে।āχāϏ্āĻ•ুāϞেāϰ āωāϞāϟো āĻĻিāĻ•ে āĻ­াāĻ—া⧜েāϰ āϏাāĻŽāύে āϟোāϟো āĻŦাāχāĻ• āϝা āĻ•িāĻ›ু āϰাāĻ–া āωāĻ ে āĻŦāϏে āĻĒ⧜āĻ›ে।āĻāĻ•āϜāύ āύ⧟ āĻĻু'āϚাāϰāϜāύ।āϚাāϞ āĻĄাāϞ āύিāϤে āĻ“āĻĻেāϰ āĻŽা-āĻŦাāĻŦা āĻŦা āύিāĻĻেāύāĻĒāĻ•্āώে āĻŦু⧜ি āĻ াāĻ•ুāĻŽা āĻŦা āĻŦু⧜ো āĻĻাāĻĻু āĻ—েāĻ›ে।āĻ“āĻĻেāϰ āĻ“āĻ–াāύে āĻ•োāύো āĻ•াāϜ āύেāχ।āĻ•āϤৃāĻĒāĻ•্āώ āϚিā§ŽāĻ•াāϰ āĻ•āϰে āĻŽিāύāϤি āĻ•āϰে āĻŦāϞāĻ›ে āĻ“āĻĻেāϰ āĻāĻŦং āĻ“āĻĻেāϰ āĻŽāϤ āĻŦাāĻ•িāĻ—ুāϞোāĻ•ে āϘāϰে āϝেāϤে āϤāĻŦু āχāϏ্āĻ•ুāϞেāϰ āĻ—েāϟ āĻ–ুāϞেāĻ›ে āĻŦāϞে āĻ•āĻĨা।āϏে āĻ•ি āĻŽāϜা!āĻĒ⧜া āĻĻেāĻ“ā§Ÿাāϰ āϏāĻŽā§Ÿ āĻāϰা āĻ•িāĻ›ু āĻĒাāϰুāĻ• āύা āĻĒাāϰুāĻ• āύāϤুāύ āĻ–াāϤা,āĻŦāχ āĻĻেāĻ–াāϰ āϜāύ্āϝ āĻ–ুāĻŦ āĻ•ৌāϤুāĻšāϞ।āĻ­াāĻ—া⧜েāϰ āϜāϞে āĻ“āĻĻেāϰ āĻšিāϏি āĻļেāώ āĻšāϞে āĻ“āϰা āĻāĻ•ে āĻ…āύ্āϝেāϰ āĻĒāĻ•েāϟে āϰুāĻŽাāϞ āĻ–োঁāϜে।āĻŦি⧜ি āĻŦেāϰো⧟,āĻĻেāĻļāϞাāχ āĻŦেāϰো⧟,āĻŦ্āϞেāĻĄ āĻŦেāϰো⧟,āĻ•াāĻ—āϜে āϞেāĻ–া āĻ•āϤ āϏāĻŦ āĻĢোāύ āύāĻŽ্āĻŦāϰ āĻŦেāϰো⧟,āĻļেāϤাāĻ™্āĻ—ী āĻŽে⧟েāĻĻেāϰ āĻ–োāϞাāĻŽেāϞা āĻ›āĻŦি āĻŦেāϰো⧟,āϰুāĻŽাāϞ āĻŦেāϰো⧟ āύা।āĻļেāώে āωāĻĒা⧟ āύা āĻĻেāĻ–ে,āϟোāϟো⧟ āĻĸুāϞāϤে āĻĨাāĻ•া āĻ…āĻŽুāĻ• āĻĻাāĻĻাāϰ āĻŽাāϏ্āĻ•āϟা āĻšাāϤেāĻĒা⧟ে āϧāϰে āϧাāϰ āύি⧟ে  āĻŽুāĻ–ে āĻĒ⧜ে āĻ—েāϟেāϰ āĻ•াāĻ›ে āĻ“āĻĻেāϰ āĻāĻ•āϜāύ āϝা⧟ āĻāĻ—ি⧟ে।āĻŽ্āϝাāĻĄাāĻŽāϜি āĻŦেāϰোāϚ্āĻ›ে। 'āĻ—ুāĻĄ āφāĻĢ্āϟাāϰāύুāύ āĻŽ্āϝাāĻŽ' āĻŽ্āϝাāĻĄাāĻŽāϜি āĻšাāϏে।āĻ•āϤāĻĻিāύ āχāϏ্āĻ•ুāϞ āĻŦāύ্āϧ āĻāχ āĻšাāϏিāϤে āĻŽāύেāχ āφāϰ āĻšā§Ÿāύা।āϏāĻŦ āϝেāύ āϏ্āĻŦাāĻ­াāĻŦিāĻ•।āĻŽ্āϝাāĻĄাāĻŽ āĻšেঁāϟে āϝা⧟ āĻ–াāύিāĻ•āϟা āĻĒāĻĨ āϰাāϏ্āϤাāϰ āϜāϞāĻ•াāĻĻা āϤাāϰ āϜুāϤো⧟ āϞাāĻ—ে,āύোংāϰাāϰ āĻĻুāϰ্āĻ—āύ্āϧ āĻ…āϏ্āĻŦীāĻ•াāϰ āĻ•āϰāϤে āϚা⧟ āϤাāϰ āĻĒ্āϰাāĻŖāĻŦāύ্āϤ āĻ…āϏ্āϤিāϤ্āĻŦ।āϏ্āĻ•ুāϟিāϤে āϝে āϞোāĻ•āϟা āĻŽ্āϝাāĻĄাāĻŽāĻ•ে āύি⧟ে āĻ—েāϞ āϏে āϤো āĻ“āĻĻেāϰ āϏাāĻŽāύেāχ āĻĻাঁ⧜ি⧟ে āĻ›িāϞ। āϘাāĻŽāĻ›ি...

on that myth

The river wasn't born out his tears.It was a myth. He couldn't cry that much.His love for her much more stronger.He got things to do.It wasn't a river either.It was a canal...as shy  as her whisper as narrow as her mind but as lively as those moments spent together by them.He took her challenge of saving her village but when his goal accomplished she showed the nonchalance of crescent moon.Their love didn't last but the canal.It wasn't born out of his tears.It was a myth.He couldn't cry that much.His love for her was much more stronger.He got things to do.It wasn't a river either.It was a canal...and it wasn't made by  tears but by his sweat.

āĻ•āĻŦুāϤāϰ

āϏাāϜাāύো āϘāϰে āφāϏāĻŦাāĻŦ āϏāĻŦ āĻ—ুāύে āĻ—ুāύে āϰাāĻ–া āĻšāĻ াā§Ž āϏেāĻ–াāύে āĻ•āĻŦুāϤāϰ āϚāϞে āĻāϞো āĻ…āύেāĻ•āĻ—ুāϞো āφāĻ–্āϝাāύেāϰ āĻ“āĻ–াāύেāχ āĻŦāϰং āϧāϰি āĻļুāϰু। āĻ…āϧিāĻ•াংāĻļ āĻŦেāϰোāϤে āϚা⧟ āφāĻĒāϤ্āϤি āϤাāĻĻেāϰ āĻŦোāĻাāĻĒ⧜াāϰ āϏীāĻŽাāύা⧟; āĻ•িāύ্āϤু āĻ•āĻŦুāϤāϰāĻ—ুāϞো āĻĨেāĻ•ে āϝেāϤে āϚা⧟ āĻ“āχ āϘāϰে āφāϏāĻŦাāĻŦ āϝেāĻ–াāύে āĻ—ুāύে āĻ—ুāύে āϰাāĻ–া। āφāĻ•াāĻļে āϤাāĻĻেāϰ āĻ•্āϞাāύ্āϤি āĻ•্āϞাāύ্āϤি āĻ“ā§œা⧟ āĻ…āϏ্āϤিāϤ্āĻŦেāϰ āϞāϘিāĻŽা āφāϏāϞে āĻāĻ•āϟা āĻ­্āϰাāύ্āϤি। āϘāϰে āĻ…āĻ­্āϝেāϏেāϰ āύāϜāϰে āĻĨাāĻ•া āĻŦāϏিāύ্āĻĻা āĻšā§Ÿে āφāĻ–্āϝাāύ āϝা⧟ āĻŦ⧟ে āĻĻেāĻ“ā§ŸাāϞেāϰ āĻুāϞ,āϧুāϞো āϏাāĻĨে āϏāĻŽā§Ÿ āĻ…āύেāĻ•āϟা āĻĨাāĻ•ে āĻšাāϤে। āϏাāϜাāύো āϘāϰে āφāϏāĻŦাāĻŦ āϏāĻŦ āĻ—ুāύে āĻ—ুāύে āϰাāĻ–া āĻšāĻ াā§Ž āϏেāĻ–াāύে āĻ•āĻŦুāϤāϰ āϚāϞে āĻāϞো  āĻ…āύেāĻ•āĻ—ুāϞো।

Looking at the moon

The moon that rose above the neighbour's rooftop  was just a pale whitish round shaped-smudge beneath cloud.Had you glimpsed it just for a moment in stead of looking  intensely...you might have seen my face that's not bothered about heartbreak,mess.