Posted in eternity, love, Uncategorized

Floating

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It is always so hard to open up

it is always so hard to cry

yet the heart which is firm like a brick

melts like colours in a sunset sky.

The truth we see as a monster

the truth we curse and harp 

is small and beautiful like a butterfly

that, which eludes our grasp.

Somewhere from behind the clouds I know

you watch me and you smile

somewhere inside the heart I know

you are there all the while.

So I sing to your blue sky

and write about the love which always grew

for somewhere I also know 

that my words will reach you.

 

Arijit Roy

(Poems and photograph)

 

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Posted in artistic spirit, Death, Life

Truth

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O sweet one!

What is it that you ask

Why day and night you hide behind a mask

Why hug the sorrow, why forget the joy

Why abandon your spirit like a broken toy.

The truth you search for

grows in your heart

as every season plays a part.

In darkness you die, in light you are born

like a rose, blooming around many a thorn.

Life and its joys overlooking death

rose and its beauty within a shadowy breath .

The red flower which loves

is also the red which inspires

a will to overcome sadness

Come fate! Come fire!

But its beauty withers away

and thorns which go on to stay

do say in many a way

that in sorrow too lies beauty

and in beauty too lies sorrow

life and death move hand in hand

between yesterday and tomorrow.

Arijit Roy

(Poem and photograph)

Posted in Self and Peace., Uncategorized

Strength

What fear it is, that strangles my heart 
and breathes into my soul
the rusted smell of despair. 
O thou master of skies 
touch me by thy immortal hand
and make my spirit fearless
fearless like a tree in storm 
unmoved; come ruin or rapture.
Bless me my eternal father 
for I do not wish to be akin
to the leaf which was torn asunder. 

                                                Arijit Roy 
                         (Poem and photograph)

Posted in nature, Self and Peace.

Shiuli

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The mornings are a bit colder now

as a slight chill greets us everyday.

Whatever remains of our oneness with nature

the instinct of it, never fails us to tell

that the direction of winds have changed.

Summer mornings are brighter, warmer

but this is a dryer, whiter hue.

A sense of truth prevails in the air

as it announces someone’s arrival

someone whom we know very dearly

someone who would soon come and bless us 

and when she leaves, would take with her this season

letting the winter wave its wand.

The sun is truly golden now

shining just like a king

its rays are strong

but somewhere they have the touch 

of a tender warmness 

just enough, to keep the fire glowing.

 

A strange stillness rests in the air

as empty playgrounds and lonely terraces; the treasures of this season

sing this secret hymn, joyfully

under a blue sky and many a white clouds.

 

A peaceful silence with an ardent restlessness is the beauty of this season.

So still yet so alive.

 I feel the very conflict of my being

ushered in by the breeze

which carries with it the sweet faint smell of Shiuli

which touches some deep cord of my heart.

I stand  and think and philosophise

 “Oh! What is it that is happening to me?”

 It is as if my soul has found some deeper level of peace

and yet at some other deeper level it is searching for an unknown truth.

A struggle rests in the air

glorious,  golden just like the sun,

 for there is something that pulls me here

 in empty places in golden afternoons

 so peaceful and wise

What is this poem that my soul yearns to write?

Between summer and autumn

 between peace and doubt

here, this season is when I’m truly alive

 afraid yet fearless, scattered yet contained,

glorious yet imperfect, imperfect thus glorious

 both in spirit and in heart.

here, this season, this time of the year, always.

It does not have a name, this season

 neither does my soul.

 It may not even be a season

 but this is surely an emotion

 closer to my heart and closest to my being.

 What is the full meaning, I do not know

 but know , that it changes and with time.

The days are becoming shorter now

and the evenings are different yet familiar.

 Familiar in spirit but different in voice.

A new season ushers in and brings with it a new spirit.

The old heart keeps on beating, fervently.

Arijit Roy

( Poem and Photograph)

                                                                                       

 

 

 

 

Posted in heartbreak, love

Eluded

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O love!  Thou wicked conjurer

thou hast trickest me again

thou has made my heart burn

by me very hands, in thy illusion.

 

O cursed be thy soul

for thou makest me revel in dreams , not my own

and makest me

flow like a leaf in the air , tossing me

whichever way thou chooses.

 

O love!  Thou art a villain.

Thou villainous dog

tell me , tell me honestly

Did I ever, ever foul thee?

Hoh! Henceforth I refuse to sing thy praises

and to let my soul dance

to the cadence of thy songs,

for thou art a thief,

thou hast robst me in daylight  O lord!

thou hast robst me of my joy

and left me alone in this barren land

sans water, hope , everything.

 

It is not grief that causeth the trouble

but it is the hope of thy arrival

for I wait and hope and hope and wait

but forget, that thou art treacherous.

 

Promise me O love!  Promise me thou cruel deity

that one day thou willst bless me

bless me with all the joy in my share

bless me by this earth, by this light

Oh! bless me for heaven’s sake

 

Why?  Why O love!

I came to thee with a golden heart

and thou spat on it, relentlessly.

Thou has come to those unworthy of thee

thou has blest those, unaware of thy shine

yet thou always refused to shake me hand

tell me O love!  Answer me!

Am I such a damned soul?

 

O love!  Thou art a pest

Thou has spread thy roots deep in my heart

and I know,  anon

I will again dance to thy tunes

and sing thy praises like a minstrel

for I am a man; limited

but thou art infinite.

O love!  Come!  Come!

set me free,  let me taste the stars

O love!  Teach me thy eternal poem

remind me that it is not betrayal or pain

or suffering or wounds that is thy call

these, the notions of the vain;  I care not for

for I know,  it is only thou

who gives the courage to fight all fear

and the strength to overcome all sadness.

 

Come then O love, sweet love

Come, Come in all thy form

O merciful!  I beg you

Come in all thy regal splendour

and show all,  thy true heart

else may there be a plague

on thy house .

 

Arijit Roy

(Poem and photograph)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in love, Self and Peace., Tagore

This is my delight

Inspired from Gitanjali

Poem – Aamar ei poth chava tai aanondo

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This is my delight, thus to wait

and to wail at the moon,

remembering thy face.

Gentle breeze blows slowly

spreading the perfume of thy smile.

Stars, near or far

twinkle with all their might

yet they lack the luster

born in thine eyes.

Together, we sit in the arms of the dusk

like long lost friends

taking joy at the hope of thy arrival.

 

In the meanwhile, I smile and sing

with them yet all alone

In the meanwhile

the moon hides behind a cloud.

 

 

Arijit Roy

(Poem and Photograph)

Posted in love, Uncategorized

Keep Reading!!

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Your eyes are like a sonnet

they may shrink as you laugh

but their light it never dims .

 

Your nose, just like a novel

long indeed but interesting.

 

Your chin like a short story

a thousand  words, a thousand  praises

yet precise.

 

Your teeth, like free verse

irregular in metre

but powerful in shine .

And your lips, just like a play

like dialogues they stay together till the end

yet are never divided by any act.

Together, they help in writing

the finest literature in the world

your smile,

most fulfilling, most soulful.

 

Arijit Roy

(Poem and photograph)