We leave places behind, but pieces of them keep travelling with us ….
Tag: Silence
When a Song Remembers Her
If someone listens to a song
And she appears in the verse
Not summoned, not expected
Just felt, like a breeze through a half-open window
Then that is love in its gentlest form …
Not loud, not declared
But tucked between notes
Where memory breathes, and the heart still knows
What it never forgot …
And if they play it again
Not to relive the past
But to feel her near
Just once more …
Alas, the song fades!
But somewhere in its echo
lives a moment
They never said goodbye to …
I was listening to a song when a sudden thought settled in, if someone ever hears a song and thinks of me, isn’t that one of the most deeply emotional and sacred gestures?
That moment stayed with me, and I ended up writing ‘When a Song Remembers Her’ … It doesn’t follow any structure or rhyme, but it holds something personal, love, memory, longing …
Maybe it’s a poem. Maybe it’s just a feeling shaped into words. I’m not entirely sure …
But I wonder, what do you think, can something like this be called a poem? Or does a poem need rules to be real, or can it simply be a moment that moves us?
Also, I’m just wondering about you, have you ever heard a song and found someone gently returning to your heart through it?
Tell me,
Isn’t it beautiful how music remembers what we try to forget?
I♥️
Between Valleys and Dreams
When R stepped off the small plane that landed in Paro, Bhutan, she felt something shift, not dramatically, but like the settling of dust after a long journey …
The valley stretched wide beneath her, green and golden in patches, framed by distant, unmoving mountains. It was quieter than she expected. Even the wind seemed to move gently, as though not to disturb the stillness that held this place together …
She had arrived not as a tourist, but as a teacher, a woman in her late thirties from Bangladesh, with a degree in English and a quiet but persistent belief in meaningful work. Years ago, it had been just a passing dream, one that took root on a monsoon evening back home, when her father handed her a book after returning from a short business trip to Bhutan: Married to Bhutan by Linda Leaming. She didn’t know then that the book would become more than a gift. It would become a roadmap …
She read it in one sitting, and then again, slower. The words painted a life far from the chaos she knew: one of rhythm, simplicity, joy without extravagance. Something about it stirred her. Not just the country itself, but the idea that a person could choose a gentler life, one rooted in intention. Ever since, the desire to live and work in Bhutan stayed with her, not loudly, but like a thread running through her decisions, pulling her quietly in one direction …
It took years to make it happen. Teaching jobs weren’t easy to come by. There were rejections, delays, moments of self-doubt. But eventually, things aligned. A school in Paro welcomed her. And so she came, with a suitcase full of essentials and a heart full of the unknown …
The school was modest: a few classrooms, basic supplies, and a staff of deeply committed educators. Her students were bright-eyed and curious, some from the surrounding hills, others from the valley towns. They called her Miss R with respect and affection. She taught English, but often, she felt she was learning more than she was giving …
In Paro, life had a slower pulse. Mornings began with mist hanging low over the rice fields. The walk to school was lined with prayer flags and the occasional passing cow. She started wearing the kira on school days, awkwardly at first, then with growing comfort. Suja, salted butter tea, became something she reached for on chilly afternoons …
She missed home sometimes: the sound of the call to prayer, her mother’s cooking, the overlapping laughter of cousins. But Bhutan had offered her something she hadn’t expected, a deep and gentle space to grow. Here, her work felt rooted. Each lesson she planned, each conversation with a student, each moment of solitude looking out at the hills, it all added up to a life that felt fuller, simpler, and strangely her own …
Some evenings, when the rain returned and wrapped the mountains in silver, she would pull out the old book her father had given her. The pages were worn now, the cover faded. But the feeling it gave her, that tug toward a life of simplicity and purpose, still felt as clear as it did all those years ago …
Living in Bhutan hadn’t made her someone new. It had returned her to someone she had always hoped to be: grounded, purposeful, and joyful. She wasn’t searching anymore. She was, finally, living the life she had once only read about …
She is here …
Teaching …
Living near the mountain valleys she once only imagined …
And in doing so, she has become a part of a beautiful story …
And at the end of each day, amidst mountain valleys, in the hush of Paro’s twilight, that felt like enough …
Bhutan has a sacred place in my heart. I visited once, and it felt like stepping into a world where everything slows down. Peace seemed to rise gently with the mountains …
I remember the kind people, the prayer flags fluttering in the wind, and the quiet beauty of the dzongs. Everything left a deep impression on me …
Rafting was one of the most exciting parts, unexpectedly wild, joyful, and full of laughter. That whole trip was truly an adventure I’ll never forget …
Before leaving, I bought the book Married to Bhutan from Paro International Airport. After reading it, something in me shifted. It changed the way I see life, more simply, more mindfully, and with a greater sense of purpose
I hope to return to Bhutan again and again
Musing
Out of life’s deepest tragedies often rise the wisest truths : pain becomes the teacher, and time, the witness …
Yūgen
Now the evening descends in stillness
And the burdens of the day return to the hands of the Divine
He knows what the heart held in silence
And wraps the soul in mercy, soft as dusk …
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.
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Recently I happen to read a haiku by Bashō:
Such stillness
the cicada’s cry drills deep
into the rocks.
It stayed with me. The depth, it felt like something more than words. That’s when I found the Japanese word Yūgen. It means a deep, mysterious beauty that can’t be fully explained. It felt just right for what I was feeling, so I kept it with me, as the title for something I’m slowly shaping in my heart …
Yūgen (幽玄)
A deep, mysterious sense of beauty and the grace of the universe, often felt during twilight or in quiet moments
Silent Moves
Build, love, and strive in silence. Then arrive with grace, not noise; after all, why reveal your next move when the final one will speak for itself!
Are you guarding your vision or giving it away too soon?
Reflect and focus on your vision …
Truth is, I Miss You
Your absence hums like a violin string snapped mid-note
A comet that vanished before its trail could unfold
The eclipse of a lighthouse on a storm-battered coast …
Time crawls, a spider weaving webs of empty hours
Memories linger like fireflies trapped in a jar
Each one dimming, yet refusing to fade into stars …
Your voice was rain stitching needles through thirsty leaves
Now silence looms like an unfinished symphony’s grief
A mosaic missing its most vivid, sacred piece…
I search for you in the scent of forgotten gardens
In waves that speak like poets lost to their stanzas
In winds that carry secrets of unuttered mantras …
Truth is, I miss you like the moon misses its tides
A ship adrift, no constellations to confide
The ache of a heart where all its echoes reside
I♥️
Ya’ Aburnee
She used to be calm,
But now she’s even calmer …
She walked slowly,
But now she walks even slower …
She talked freely with the right person,
But now
She barely talks at all …
She mingled happily with her best friend,
But now
She avoids everyone …
She expressed herself openly,
But now
She keeps everything inside …
She used to dream of the stars
But now
She barely looks at the sky …
She used to dance in the rain
But now
She stays inside, dry …
She used to laugh with abandon
But now
Her smiles are rare and shy …
She used to sing her heart out
But now
Her voice is just a whisper …
She used to chase after adventures
But now
She hesitates to even try …
She used to believe in magic
But now
Her wonder seems to die …
She lost her beloved, her heart’s anchor,
Now she drifts, untethered and forlorn …
Grief has woven shadows in her days,
And joy, once bright, feels tattered and torn …
.
.
Ya’ Aburnee/ arabic
(n.) lit. ‘may you bury me’
a declaration of one’s hope that they’ll die before another person because of how unbearable it would be to live without them
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Have you ever felt like these for anyone?
I Have a Fondness …
I have a fondness for breaking apart
A fascination with the fragile
The delicate dance of hearts
Walking unsteadily on the edge …
In love …
I have a fondness for breaking apart
At times it seems
Love’s other name is
Broken hearts …
An echo of longing …
A symphony of cracks …
I have a fondness for breaking apart
In love, I find
A beauty in the fracture,
In the spaces …
Where light seeps through the wounds
Where the raw and the real collide
In a blaze of truth and tenderness …
I have a fondness for breaking apart
It’s a mosaic of
Shattered dreams
Pieced together with hope …
A courage of feeling
The audacity of connection …
I have a fondness
For the breaking …
For the way love demands vulnerability …
For the way it strips us bare …
For the way all its flaws are revealed
I have a fondness
For my unguarded heart
Breaking apart …
For in the breaking,
We find the depth of love
The resilience of the beautiful soul …
The beauty of a heart
That dares to love
Even knowing it might break …
That’s how I have a fondness
For breaking apart …
Tea or Coffee
You love tea
I love coffee
Each sip, a story
Each cup, a journey …
Your mornings start
With delicate leaves
Unfolding in warmth
A ritual of peace …
Yours and mine!
Mine begin
With bold beans
Ground into essence
A rush of energy …
Together
We blend flavors
Contrasts harmonize
Creating a beautiful combo …
Yours with mine!
In your serenity
I find calm
In my vigor
You find spark …
Two worlds
Two cups
One shared moment
A beautiful combo …
Mine with yours!
Do you prefer tea or coffee?
How did you celebrate International Tea Day?
Tell your tea/ coffee story (if any) …
The Way of Rest
You cannot save anyone. You can be present with them, offer your groundedness, your sanity, your peace. You can even share your path with them, offer your perspective. But you cannot take away their pain. You cannot walk their path for them. You cannot give answers that are right for them, or even answers they can digest right now. They will have to find their own answers.
C’est la vie
My Dear,
It’s likely that as you were writing to me, I was walking back home from work, taking in the beauty of the flowers in my charming neighborhood …
I adore my neighborhood. The scenery is incredibly captivating with its tall trees and beautiful blossoming flowers. I frequently opt to walk home from work, as it’s only 850-1000 steps from my workplace to my home …
So, what I was saying about my neighborhood!
I really admire the shade under the tall trees and enjoy watching the breeze rustle through the colorful bougainvillea. It’s lovely to see people walking along the footpath and enjoying their time. As I passed by the mosque, I noticed people seeking relief from the scorching heat under the trees in front of the mosque. I adore the vibrant colors, the fragrant scents, and the sense of simplicity in that scene.
It was scorching heat outside. And there I found myself embracing the warmth of the surroundings. There was refreshing cool breeze and thoughts of you. It may sound unbelievable, but it’s the truth. Your presence in my thoughts remains unwavering amidst the whirlwind of life’s events. Please, believe that.
So, where was I? I was expressing my fondness for the delightful, blossoming, shady path in my neighborhood and how much I’m fond of you …
Today I took a break from work as I was feeling an intermittent cramping in my abdomen. Some rest will help me feel better. However,. Sudden leave from work leads me to think, “How can I best utilize this extra time at home?” Swiftly, I begin mentally compiling a to-do list. Eventually, I decided to walk back home…
While returning, I found myself feeling happy to see these blossoms and greens. The outside heat was too strong but I cared less and I continued walking, intermittently pausing to capture photographs.
I returned home and checked my email once again. I was so surprised to receive your mail. This news brightened my day so much that now I feel inspired to spend the next few hours painting.
I find great pleasure in painting when my heart is filled with happiness and I was very happy to read your mail.
Your words and painting will grace my own solitude for today, now and here.
Do you enjoy solitude?
I eagerly await your response to my somewhat poetic emails.
Have a peaceful, wonderful, blissful day!
Yours truly,
^^
Do you enjoy solitude?
C’est la vie means ‘That’s life’ 😊
Immersed
There once was a curious soul
Wondering how your days roll
What activities fill your time …
It’s something she often wonders about …
Completely immersed in the moment
What do you do when you’re happy or very happy?
I Read It As
A university degree, four books, and hundreds of articles and I still make mistakes when reading, You write to me “good morning” and I read it as, “I love you” …
A Letter to Beloved
Can you perceive
An unseen bond between us?
It ties us together; trust it, my love …
It’s invisible, yet unmistakably sensed
Certainly by me …
Do you not sense it as well?
A connection surpassing time and distance…
Ours is an endless bond
Our eternal, cherished blessing …
Through moments fleeting and forever
The thread weaves its way …
Stretching, sometimes tangling,
Yet resilient, unyielding …
As time, as it is infinite, it will stay …
Oh, my beloved, my dear …
Please pardon me, the mistake was mine
Throughout the moments we shared
And the clarity we’ve known …
It took me a while
To fully understand your essence …
Now I know
This love endures, and
Time, place, circumstance may shift,
This love is unbroken, my constant uplift …
I’m uncertain if the title fits these verses. Do you have a suggestion?
^^
Wanderer
His presence lingers always
In thoughts, he resides …
When will I be able to let go of the enchanting pull of Kashmir, with its grand mountains and stunning scenery? I believe I’m entirely in love with it.
Discovering happiness and serenity along the path and journey ….
Have you ever visited a place that lingers in your mind long after you’ve left?
Tea-date
A sip of tea,
And a glance
That we exchanged ,
Sitting at a quiet cafe,
Where our stories blossomed …
Two strangers,
Just so world apart …
Yet here we met
Beneath the cozy ambiance,
And our hearts beat –
A strangely warm tune …
With every swirl of steam
With every stir of sugar –
The fragrant brew gradually becomes
A well-woven fantasy …
As we shared our tales …
There’s a bridge between us,
As we sip and shared…
No need to fuss though …
Each word a melody
Each sip a dance
In this tea date
We found romance ….
Time passes
Paths diverge
From distant lands or
Just down the street
For in this simple rendezvous,
Our soul found
A connection so profound …
Ethereal
Connected, unseen thread binds,
Across time, place, situations unwind …
Stretched, tangled, yet resilience found,
Improbable love, unbroken, and profound …
Avenoir
In strokes of paints and words
My soul opens up inviting you to breathe life into my world …
Yet you missed the essence, and
The depth of my art … Only once though … yet
The entire ordeal leaves me to ponder, and
Torn apart …
Do you feel the echo of my heart’s despair?
Or does indifference cloak the air?
It matters not, for distance now weaves
its sway,
As I journey on,
far from yesterday’s bay …
Though you missed my art’s embrace,
Let its sigh lingers, finding their place …
Somewhere within you …
As you hold it close to your being in time to come
Let its essence, eternal, be freeing …
Let my art reside,
As a silent companion …
As a comforting guide ….
As a cherished part of me …
May it dwell Within you,
So I may live on forever through my art
With you …
I love my Jian Bird Creates journey … it’s a journey of creativity and joy and resilience of a lot more than you could ever think of …
Forget Me Not
Avenoir/ latin
(n.) the desire to see memories in advance or desire that memory could flow backward …
Let Silence Reigns
Let silence reigns…
Afterwards let words flow freely, endlessly through us, like a gentle stream ….
Let certain words remain unsaid …
Let some words remain unheard …
Let silence reigns …
For if all is voiced
What remains in the silence?
For if all is listened
What remains in the voice?
Let blank pages be as it is
For me and you, for the time being or for long, long time …
Let silence reigns …
Afterwards let words flow freely, endlessly through us, like a gentle stream, unbound, serene and graceful ….
Hope
Blooms glow …
Hope is in petals bright
Nature promises in breeze …
Part of my morning rituals are spent in my little varandah garden! It refreshes me …. Love the sound of the chirping birds, the warm light, smell of the wind and greens and flowers … Some days I read here with a glass of warm honey water and some days a cup of tea … with a little conversation … These days are Ramadan days, the most blessed days and I’m healing from my broken finger …. I hope it’ll be alright soon … and everything too
Hope …
Let the blooms bring hope …
A Delusion
Most days, when it’s Friday, I remember that on such one Friday I entered his city, and he didn’t show up …
Do you know what I was thinking when I stepped out of the airport? I never been to this airport and unfortunately I was going to stay only the night at his city ….
Our hotel cars were outside the airport. We girls got into the cars and the car was passing through the airport road to get to the city centre … the full moon was racing with us, I was watching it through the car window …with my wandering heartbeats on …
I wanted to believe that he will be there to surprise me. So without any contact with him, I was still hoping that I may see him in there at the hotel lobby and for that I was feeling a bit nervous, ‘What if he actually comes!? Should I go outside to grab coffee with him as he wanted to take me out for a coffee, or should I ask him to have dinner at the hotel restaurant as it was already late because of the delayed flight. We won’t get time for a coffee break somewhere else.’ – to be honest I was feeling very nervous too. And more importantly, I needed to give him the gifts that I’ve been carrying throughout my whole trip,… So I needed to unpack my luggage!”
“Oh no! That would be a mess!” – I was thinking about all these in my mind …
Then we reached the hotel. The lobby was normal with less people. I looked around a little bit more. “Was there any face that was searching someone?” – I was looking here and there and was thinking about this – “Oh! better if he doesn’t come now.” As if I can recognise him. I never saw him even. How stupid and pathetic I was! I was thinking, ‘I want to freshen up first and then I’ll be coming down again for dinner, and may be by that time he would come and I may offer him dinner Dosa at the hotel restaurant’ … I still can’t believe that I was thinking all of these even without any confirmation from him to meet me here! Feeling too much angry at myself ….
However, after the hotel formalities were done, we went up to our room and then I came down with my travel mate and by that time I grew a feeling of no expectation that he would come. ‘If I expect, it’s going to hurt me. It’s alright’ – I was thinking to make myself feel better and now I’m waiting for my dosa with an expectation of having a good dinner, because I was so hungry by that time through so many things and all of these unsure traumas …
Unfortunately
-A delayed flight disappointed me …
-‘He’ disappointed me (He didn’t come. He didn’t confirm he would come though. Still I felt disappointed as if it’s all his fault…. )
-Dosa disappointed me (I was so hungry and I was craving dosa, but it was a disaster)
Now what?
A dilemma …
To keep or not to keep the gift packet at the reception desk!
My poor little handmade gifts for him, and few other things – should I keep my gift packet for him to pick later on when he gets to know that I was at his city and about all of these!
Poor me and my surprise gifts!
Wish he would know how brave it was for me to accept his coffee date for sometime in the middle of the night …
It won’t make sense if he never comes and by that time I started having headaches. I must sleep for sometime, and so I did, having a medicine …
It was 3 AM in the morning, again our cars were on the road of his city to reach the airport. This time I took some videos of the road as a memory of the city.
Long ago when the young girl in me visited this city, she was a carefree young girl who didnt know what does disappointment means! At that time she treasured the memory of visiting the famous amusement park with her siblings – it was full of fun, laughter and pure innocent joy. That time she left the city with delightful memories.
Now she’s leaving the city with the gift she so lovingly brought here for someone she never met before, but whom she thought she knew for a long time ….
This time she was innocent too, as her feelings were so deep and true, but she didn’t understand why she would be disappointed for someone who didn’t even know about the gifts she’s been carrying for him.
But for what reason, she was upset – she didn’t understand though she’s not a carefree young girl anymore …
But she was upset, confused and disoriented because now she was carrying the gifts to bring back home and carrying a strange unknown heart leaving a bit of her heart in this dark city!
Dark, because she entered it with a strange unknown feeling and it was nighttime though the moon was there (a relief to my eyes) and dark, because her heart was broken for a completely unknown, strange, unspecified reason so she was in denial for long …
It was a Friday night entering his city and on the morning of Saturday my flight took off from his city …
So on Fridays, most times it reminds me of
that Friday when I was in his city, and he didn’t show up …
A delusion!
It’s a long post. I’m sorry for that. If you’ve read the whole story, thank you and tell me if you’ve ever felt the same? Or any instance that you might have felt ….
What If
What if it all works out?
What if you get that call?
What if today goes unexpectedly well?
What if you have what it takes?
What if you meet someone unexpectedly?
What if today you make the day best with what you have?
What if someone is praying for you?
What if you receive that one mail?
What if someone has special feelings for you?
What if someone tells you that?
What if you go on that trip with someone for a day or two?
What if the trip takes you to another state of mind?
What if you return with a complete different state of heart?
What if you do not know what’s next?
What if the best is yet to come?
What if great things are on the way?
What if you don’t search for any answer?
What if the answer is within you?
I love all the ‘What ifs’ …
What ifs’ give me hope …
Heimweh
Echoes of your absence linger
In the winds of change; …
These days! ….
My heart aches
Unknowingly and why do
‘I miss you’? – I strangely sigh
These days! ….
Heimweh/ german
(n.) a longing for home
Serendipity
Can I sit with you without any words just for a while?
Serendipity/ english. ser·en·dip·i·ty ˌser-ən-ˈdip-ət-ē :
(n.) finding something beautiful without looking for it …
Serendipity in love signifies the magic of unplanned moments and the joy of discovering a special connection where you least expect it
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♥️
Isolophilia
Silent growth in aging
Echoes wisdom …
Wisdom whispers
In wrinkles’ embrace …
The older you get,
The more quiet you become …
Whispers of time deepen hush;
Silence, aging’s gift, in return….
Isolophilia
(n.) strong affection for solitude and being alone …:
A Few Words
White Beauty
Winter’s embrace, mountains adorned in white ….
Kashmir (2023)
Melancholy’s Song
The shadow cast
On that starless skies,
Where murmurs linger,
Subdued goodbyes …
A tune of melancholy’s song,
In thy heart where echoes long …
Oh this melancholy,
My silent guest,
A tear-stained story, unspoken, and so blessed
The weight of contemplation
In shades of gray,
In twilight hours, grips its sway …
A canvas painted with dull hues,
A whirlwind of memories, tattered and bruised …
Through hazy veils of nostalgic dreams,
The world in silent sadness gleams …
A poet’s pen on pages bare,
Twisted verses of a sincere prayer …
Thy melancholy’s tender art,
Nothing but a symphony of hurting heart …
Yet, in the depth of still despair,
Belongs a beauty, rare and fair …
A gentle solace for the mind
In the shadow of the ancient find …
So let the tears of misery flow
Like mists on a window’s glow …
For in melancholy’s gentle grace
There lies a balm for life’s embrace …
Roksana Tales 