Archive for June, 2015

If the river says, it won’t come close to the sea, can it be?

If the cloud says, it won’t float across the breast of the sky. Can it be?

If the flower says, it won’t listen to the song of the honeybee, it cannot be…

To dance but to not count the rhythm of the anklet, it cannot be…

At the sight of spring, the eyes say they won’t laugh. Can it be?

There is a path but if the feet say they won’t walk, it cannot be…

The breast is full of words but the mouth says it will say nothing, it cannot be…

Despite being in love, the heart says it won’t love. Can it be?

নদী যদি বলে সাগরের কাছে যাবো না, টাকি হয়?
মেঘ যদি বলে আকাশের বুকে ভাসবো না, টাকি হয়?
ফূল যদি বলে ভ্রমর এরও গান শুনবো না, হয় না তাই
নাচব তবুও নুপের ও তাল গুনবো না, হয় না তাই
ফাগুন কে দেখে চোখ যদি বলে হাসবো না, টাকি হয়?
পথ আছে তবু পা যদি বলে চলবো না, হয় না তাই
বুকে কথা মুখ যদি বলে কিছু বলবো না, হয় না তাই
ভালোবেসে মন যদি বলে ভালবাসবো না, টাকি হয়?

Copyright © 2015 [Violet Dolui]. All Rights Reserved.


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Wandering towards her. Looking slightly lost but masquerading considerable assurance. He stood out somehow. Maybe, it was his appearance. His solitariness. Or perhaps, something less tangible. Like the sense of a secret purpose in his gaze.

His skin was like dark honey. Like caramel. His hair was neatly trimmed. He was dressed simply, unpretentiously. And even though, there was a boyishness about his clean-cut face… there was a subtle sense of readiness too that belied his years. He looked like he would make things happen.

She addressed him. He looked a bit startled, as if drawn away from a private interview. And then, a kind of recognition settled over his strong features.

His face was a study in seriousness. He tried his best to not reveal anything that passed through his mind. In fact, he almost succeeded in being inscrutable. But, for that look of great attention. She saw that she had captured his interest.

For some time, she shrank from his scrutiny, his overpowering regard. His deep gaze burned her. She felt shy and nervous. Her face felt hot… singed by the intensity in his eyes.

She retreated from his touch like a startled deer. He was tall and broad. He stood so close that it was difficult to breathe or think. Let alone, talk intelligently.

Slowly however, her confidence grew. It was not hard to feel splendid while being made the object of such open and assiduous glances. Such a thoroughly pleasing consideration. As if she was a thing of wonder and resplendent beauty. She laughed.

She noticed the disquiet beneath his calmness… something almost feverish in his ardor. And, instead of being alarmed, she felt a surge of power.

She felt a femininity stir deep within her. Felt alive and beautiful and deliciously womanly. She was Sleeping Beauty, waking up from her prolonged slumber.

Earlier, she had existed in romance literature and fantasy. In hopes and distant dreams. In poetry and drama. Now, in his warm and undeniably solid presence… she was unshackled and unleashed. She felt love awaken like a great, big, sleeping giant, deep within her core.

“So this is how it is”, she said to herself and smiled.

She heard him speak words of self-revelation, admiration, and expectation. She understood his need to do so. She was not required to do anything but listen and absorb the immediacy and significance of those moments. So, she mostly kept herself, wrapped in a comfortable sort of silence.

When he gently drew her head and let it rest on his shoulders, a feeling of rightness just swept over her. He was the virtuoso and she was his violin. And their togetherness was fraught with silent harmony.

Silence is a language too. He spoke softly to her, but his deeply fascinated eyes spoke so much more. His glances caressed her gently, searched her innermost thoughts, and lanced her soul.

His eyes held a thousand questions. His solidity, on the other hand, his firm touch responded to her questions… those that she had not even framed in her mind, with any degree of coherence.

“Who was he?” She wondered again.

How could she actually find herself in the dark eyes of a near-stranger? How could her entire life suddenly seem poised on the brink of an immense, dramatic change? Did such things really happen?

There was a sense of wonderment, of course. But, there was also serenity and an undercurrent of excitement. After all, life was greeting her. Whispering promises so miraculous, so utterly enchanting…

No matter what the future held… she knew, she would keep the memory of those delicate yet powerful moments, engraved fondly in the imperishable depths of her heart.

Copyright © 2015 [Violet Dolui]. All Rights Reserved.

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