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)

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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 love, Self and Peace., Tagore

This is my delight

Inspired from Gitanjali

Poem – Aamar ei poth chava tai aanondo

this is my delight pic.jpg

 

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 Self and Peace.

Add life to your days

 

 

 

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Every night I strive for life

more and more life

whatever it takes

I just , just don’t want to sleep

for sleep , it is just like death

sweet , soothing yes

but once it sets in

you can’t remember a word

as all becomes  nothing

but life aah !  it is so opposite

tough , turbulent yes

but once it sets in

you remember that you are and  alive

as nothing becomes everything .

 

It astonishes me how

I am fully alive

in the dead hours of the night

as I become me

and you become you

only in the end of the journey ,  why ?

Perhaps it is so , for we know

that there is no more time to waste

that death and sleep are fast catching up

that whatever it is  that we are ,

we are and now .

 

For life was always poor in maths ,

it only knows addition .

Arijit Roy

(Poem and photograph)

 

Posted in Self and Peace., Uncategorized

Away

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Away is also a way.

How can you ever be free?

If you do not give yourself,

the permission to walk away

from whatever it is , that enslaves your spirit

chains your being .

Not running away but moving away

knowing that all battles cannot be fought

and the best battle is the one which is avoided.

Choosing to speak your mind

and not conform .

Trusting what your energies say

for sometimes , moving away

is the wisest possible way .

Arijit Roy

(Poem and photograph)