We leave places behind, but pieces of them keep travelling with us ….
Tag: Feel the moment
Freedom from FOMO
She no longer fears missing out, for she has learned that what’s meant for her will never pass her by. While the world rushes to chase trends, gatherings, and noise, she finds peace in her own rhythm. Her joy isn’t borrowed from what others are doing, but born from the satisfaction of being present where she is …
She doesn’t measure her life against anyone’s timeline. She knows that every soul blooms in its own season. She would rather miss a hundred fleeting moments than lose the one that truly belongs to her …
For her, the real richness lies not in being everywhere, but in being whole, right where she stands …
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When was the last time you felt at peace simply by being where you are?
Bravery
Climb the hill
Then jump across the small gap
Bravery feels free …
Turona’s Mountain
There was a small village at the foot of a mountain. The village was called Shantipur. In that village lived a little girl named Turona. Every day, Turona would gaze at the big mountain from afar. In the morning, the mountain sparkled in golden sunlight, and by evening, it glowed in a soft reddish hue …
One day, Turona decided she would climb to the top of that mountain. Everyone said, ‘It’s too high, you won’t be able to.’ But Turona smiled and replied, ‘How will I know if I don’t try?’ …
The next morning, she set off with a bottle of water, some fruit, and a notebook. On the way, she grew tired, her feet ached on the stones, yet she didn’t stop. Sometimes she sat down to rest, listening to the sound of the wind and watching the birds fly …
Finally, after noon, she reached the top of the mountain. Looking down, she saw how beautiful her little village was, green fields, tiny houses, and a silver river flowing gently through it …
In her notebook, Turona wrote, ‘The joy of reaching the highest place only comes when you refuse to give up.’ …
Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The air smelled of freedom, and inside her heart, there was peace …
She realized that the real mountain wasn’t outside, but within her. And that day, she had conquered both …
How we used to write short stories when we were young! I remember how every night I’d make up stories to tell my little sisters before they fell asleep. I used to jot down bits of them in my notebook too. Often, I’d go up to our rooftop with that notebook, gazing at the distant sky until my thoughts drifted away. I wanted to write, and sometimes, I did. Other times, I simply got lost in my own imagination!
I’m sure it happened with you too!
Anyways, now tell me,
What is the ‘mountain’ in your own life that you’ve been afraid to climb?
Or tell me,
When was the last time you tried something even though others doubted you?
Pondering
In puzzled ponder, a name I’ve heard
Though “Roksana” my soul preferred …
Yet as time passed by
A fondness did arise
Love’s influence moves my heart …
Let the name be my tender song
In love’s embrace, I truly belong …
Quiet Contemplation
Your absence has gone through me, like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.”
Separation by W.S. Merwin
The Poetry in That Girl
I reconnected with that girl anew –
Who once embraced life fully …
Who danced with every step and radiated joy
Whose eyes were some sunflowers, blooming
And whose soul ignited fireworks, dazzling …
I played music for that girl again …
In hopes that its melody would ignite her spirit within
Creating a haven for her to emerge from the shadows
And dance once more under the stars …
Knowing that she would find solace within these moments
With each sunset painted in hues of gold
And each gentle breeze whispering
Through the trees ….
I hoped to create a sanctuary where she could feel safe enough to reveal herself once again …
Deep within, I felt her presence stirring,
A flicker of recognition amidst the silence …
Longing for my kindness and effort that shimmered with possibility
I vowed to nurture her return
To guide her back into the light
Where she rightfully belonged ..
She belonged to the poetry within her …
The pic is from the archive of memories of a young girl; another of her mirror image. She was travelling by train, from Kolkata to Delhi ….
It was an amazing journey!
Tacenda
My longing, a relentless tide
Your absence, a void deep inside ….
Am I flawed, or loved?
Tacenda
(n.) things better left unsaid
That Yellow
She paints grace
In glowing yellow …
As the brush-strokes
Softly glide through her skin …
Hers is a delicate face
Soothing and serene;
Tread with a gentle touch
In colors unseen ..
That yellow color girl
In tranquil pose ..
She’s a grace …
Yellow is my favourite color … which color do you like most?
Meraki
My canvas of delight is
Dancing bright …
My passion is igniting
A colorful sight …
My soul is painting
A tranquil choir …
My emotion is healing
With peace and fire …
Meraki
(v.) to do something with soul, creativity or love; to leave a piece and essence of yourself in something you do …
Steadily, Casually
Steadily, casually
I’ve become accustomed
To reading your words ….
What an enchanting time
It is ….
To be drawn to you
To be close to you …
Steadily, casually
Reading your words
I’ve become accustomed
To finding my heart …
Oubaitori
Lost, found, blooms anew …
Mountains stand in silent strength …
Far, but near, a song unfolds …
Oubaitori/ japanese
(n.) the idea that people, like flowers, bloom in their own time and in their individual ways ….
A remarkable day today, A Monday! Je t’aime comme tu es ….
I♥️
La Reponse C’est L’amour
Moments linger, serene and soft
Time embraces our cherished moments,
And memories bloom, and serendipity stays …
I’m in love with this music. And you?
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La reponse c’est l’amour/ french
(phr.) “Love is the answer”
Ma Belle
Ma Belle!
Live upon the moonlit skies,
The place of hope and butterflies ….
Be well pleased with your passionate eyes;
Be right there….
And stare at the Gods with proud gaze
Be praised and praise …
Ma Belle!
You roundly speaker,
When you see any betrayal,
Don’t you shed tears …..
You get going, keeping head high
Without any fear …
Ma Belle!
Let all the new faces play,
With the tricks they sure will;
Let all those pass away…
You be calm, quiet and still;
If these be right
Of day and night,
You be chilled and chill.
Ma Belle!
Those images that may
Gather all the talk of doom,
But you think not of a single evil chance;
Play out all of your dream so fair,
With the host of the air
You be heard and hear and dance …
Ma Belle!
Until imagination brought
It was only a thought,
But keep your integrity …
Let it be for what it is;
They were dead and of a different kind,
You be weighed lightly and just don’t mind …
Ma Belle!
Pull down the blinds in pride,
You be in your country-side;
Where the sky falls kissing the earth,
On the balance of the wind…..
You take a lovely ride
Like a new smiling bride ….
Ma Belle!
My sweet little Belle!
You be known for the care you give
And discover the forgotten truth;
Your heart is your heart what it should be,
That hasn’t changed in years from youth …
His Precious Jewellery
His look is one of the most
Distinctive in fashion;
Though quite an escapist mode
He owns …
His dominant movement
Has made him one of that
Dominant icon …
A timeless form within,
Bringing the
Unfinished make-up of
The star to my whole being …
Often I wonder
A velvet scarf would appreciate
The beauty more …
Often I think …
The sky blue,
Royal blue,
And rose-gold would reflect
The imagery of his style in my mirror …
In vivid expression,
His is a simpler,
A softer look …
He is his time
And communicates
With a youthful spirit …
As I want more than
Only adoration,
I want insight, an intellectual curiosity
To provoke a luxurious fabrics;
Such as cashmere, or
Duchess satin,
Grey flannel and more …
These do bring forth a nostalgic beauty
To my man’s beauty …
And I’m happy
That often I design him
In Sunday’s best silk with
Traditionally delicate lace …
And this is the centre of all his
Charms defined by me …
Though some fragile knits
And beads are always there …
Still, it’s a fabulous fit for us …
The clothes are all clean and white
Thats what set up our own label,
A chosen one for the privileges …
It’s beyond passion
It’s forevermore with the beloved …
The essence of this passionate heart is
Rooted in his bold and unique spirit …
After all these settled
Fashion and styles,
He often says
Quite fashionably,
‘His heart wears nothing
But only one jewellery’ …
Often he says to me,
‘He treasures nothing but
One precious treasure’ …
And that his precious jewellery
Is me …
With You
I am getting drunk with you
I am getting sober with wine …
I am walking on water with you
I am swimming through air so fine …
Raabta
It’s happening
She hasn’t met someone
She hasn’t seen someone
But she’s falling for that someone …
It’s happening
Unreal yet real but not as real as it is …
Quite inexplicable and yet very true it is ….
Raabta/ urdu
(n.) inexplicable connection with another soul …
I have been suffering from the viral fever of the season for the last two days and this fever is quite different from what I had experienced before. So yesterday even in my feverish head and body, my mind felt to write something, that went like, ‘The cosmos is within us, the dance is absolutely amazing, let the universe find the questions you have, the answers you need” …. Then may be for a second or two, I felt hallucinations … may be or may be not … sometimes high temperatures do cause such things, right? However, I’m all fine with the fever still going on … So today, when I was going through those yesterday’s musings, I dropped the idea of writing further about the cosmos verses one, and really felt passionate about writing this one …
Raabta
So simple, yet I hope you like it ✨♥️
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Enchanting Kashmir’ has a hypnotic bell that keep ringing in my heart and soul … so you may find a lot of videos and images that I so dearly keep sharing … 😊
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Onsra
My heart is full of many things to say to you
But I feel speech is nothing to you at all …
I believe
We shall surely see each other someday
Though I’m afraid I wouldn’t deliver the observations
So far I’ve made ….
The emotions that’s touching me these days,
In moments so weird ….
I believe
Love is an act of forgiveness
A tender look that may become
So sad
But what do I do out of it?
My tender look is my
Strange habit ….
I believe
My undefined patience
And the passion of my angels
Give me much relief
Cause I know you …
Although you show your indifference
But I bet it’s only out of love,
Not hate …
Then suddenly
I get this bittersweet feeling of onsra, that whatever little we have is coming to a close
My heart is full of many things to say to you
But I feel speech is nothing to you at all
Tell me if I’m wrong ….
Onsra/ boro
(n.) the bittersweet feeling of loving for the last time, or realizing your love won’t last
A Little Walk
So I went to a bit far away village for a simple photo-walk. There I met some extraordinary people of all ages who welcomed me wholeheartedly. But they do not know me. I do not know them until today … Some love their goats, some love their fields, some love their busy time – and all were happy and contented. I just love that so much. The simplicity. The care they carry for a stranger is nothing but the glory of their life.
I felt so much warm around them. Few children of that village accompanied me all the time … wherever I was going they were always there …
I took a lot of pictures. Here I have shared only a few. When I get a scope of taking pictures, I go crazy. I even do not remember from when I get this attraction to take photos wherever I would go or wherever I would be … I simply love when I hear my camera makes the sound, ‘Click Click’. I feel so passionate about it! Between smiles, laughter, and capturing memories, who wouldn’t just love photography?
I’m sure photography tells a story. You can see these photographs and make the story for yourself …
Will you?
For a little walk
With me,
Will you please come?
A little far away
From chaos and bustle
Of city life
Will you please come?
For a little walk
Down the valley
With a tune of a song
That you like and I love too …
Will you please come?
Thank you so much for the lovely afternoon———-
Sometimes Somehow
Sometimes
Somehow I feel
I love you …
Sometimes
Somehow I mean
To say, ‘I need you’ …
Sometimes
Somehow I shyly
Whisper, ‘I want you’ …
Sometimes
Somehow I think
I have you as mine …
Sometimes
Somehow I get
That you are near me …
Sometimes
Somehow I know
I’m a mess without you …
Sometimes
Somehow I dream
Walking beside you …
Sometimes
Somehow I hope
A lifetime of promises
With you …
Sometimes
Somehow I hear
You saying all of these
To me …
Sometimes somehow I feel funny writing all these letters of love. Then sometimes somehow I know somewhere someone may resonate all of my these simple, plain and quite undecorated letters of love for themselves … And then all the time I know that the letters of love may differ from person to person, but the in-depth feelings of love remain the same…
How do you feel about the letters of love? 😊
Madno
Falling for you doesn’t hurt me …
sixwordsstory
roksanatales
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Madno {mad-no} (n.) A Kashmiri word and it means ‘Beloved’; someone you love …
~~~~~~~~~~~ Dal lake, Kashmir~~~~~~~~~~~
Tweeting:@RoksanaAmeliaa
Love Letters
Love
Sometimes we’re in love with moments, not with people ….
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A Symphony of Love …
The paths and the valleys are glowing
There is magic in mountains and waterfalls
The air is reciting the story of our love ….
There
I felt shy when you came near to me
The breeze could hear the breaths of my silent shyness … but I couldn’t …
Here
My unheard songs are echoing across the mountains
Even though I’m feeling a bit lonely
Without you ….
Yet this loneliness has a fragrance of you
Our love has hopes for tomorrow
This distance looks good to me …
The paths and the valleys are glowing
There is magic in mountains and waterfalls
The air is reciting the story of our love ….
Grey isn’t What I’m Meant to be …
Life is somewhat grey
Everywhere
Just monotony
Lost and lonely …
Don’t you know?
Only when you stay
Life is colorful ….
A hopeful glow
Echoes of brighter joy
Birds sing cheerful songs
Rays of sunshines warm my cheeks
My yellow dyed dreams return …
Now it’s grey
Everywhere …
When will you come?
Without you, I feel grey ….
Don’t you know?
Grey isn’t what I’m meant to be …
A Home
I haven’t met you
I haven’t seen you
But often I feel a home in you …
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Where the glacier meets the sky, the land ceases to be earthly, and the earth becomes one with the heavens; no sorrows live there anymore, and therefore joy is not necessary; beauty alone reigns there, beyond all demands”-
Halldór Laxness
A Postcard from Kashmir
Meeting among The Mountains
I dreamt of walking
On mountains
And
I dreamt of meeting
You ….
Here I’m walking
On the lands of magical mountains …
High above the crowds and the clouds,
Under the ancient pine trees
I’m in its close embrace ..
Surrendering to the magnificence …
Believe, I could see nothing
In the thread of mist
Caressing the wind
Everywhere I see
You …
Only you …
Heart full of gratitude for this gift of being alive to see the magnificent heavenly beauty by The Divine.
Kashmir, Heaven on Earth
I wish …
Collide!
The dawn was breaking
You looked at me
I looked at you
The place was a haunting one
The light was shining
And
You and I collide
Yet we never kissed …
You never touched my face …
What could I say?
What could I do?
There I stood, unknowing
What’s happening
In a world full of billions
There were you
Mixed with all of the chaos
Inside and Out
At that very moment
I somehow felt
You and I collide
For a reason …
When
The dawn was breaking
You looked at me
I looked at you
…
Inquisitiveness
Though I know
A name is a name
Is a name is a name …
Just like, “Rose is a rose
Is a rose is a rose” … 😊
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In whatever name we call
At the end
A rose will always be a rose
And you will always be you …
Therefore what’s in a name!
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Yet I’m curious 🧐
“What’s your name?”
“What’s your name?”
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Roksana Tales 