We leave places behind, but pieces of them keep travelling with us ….
Tag: Uncategorised
Behind her Sunglasses
She has always loved wearing sunglasses …
As a teenager, she would watch her sisters tilt their faces toward the light, their lashes casting long shadows over eyes that shimmered with beauty. When she looked in the mirror, her own eyes seemed smaller, plainer, framed by short lashes. It stung her heart a little, like a tiny splinter she couldn’t quite pull out …
Over time, she began to reclaim them. She traced deep kajol along her lids, soft & dark, like ink drawing a doorway. Her eyes lookd wider, more alive. People began to say she looked striking, and for the first time, her eyes felt truly hers …
Then life changed. Grief came quietly, like water filling a low space. In her reflection, she noticed it, the sparkle that once danced in her eyes had turned gentler, dimmer, like smoke fading after a flame. Her eyes began to carry stories of long nights and silent endurance. She didn’t always want others to read them …
So she reached for her sunglasses. The cool plastic rested against her temples, the tinted lenses washed the world in sepia. It felt like drawing a curtain over a window. Behind them, she had privacy. No one could see the sadness flicker and ask, “Are you okay?” …
She’s learned something through this little ritual, and that is, sometimes covering up isn’t vanity; it’s survival. The layers we wear, sunglasses, kajol, even a careful smile, are small stitches tht hold us togther until we’re ready to heal …
Sometimes, she still wonders: what would it feel like to step into the light barefaced, to let her eyes tell their truth, and to trust the world not to look away?
Her eyes carry stories the world is not
yet ready to read
I♥️
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?
Musings
Even in your uncertainty, you’re brave, you’re trying, and you’re already enough …
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 …
.
.
.
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 …
Villimalé
After arriving in Malé, my son and I took a short ride across the water on a cheerful little troller and arrived at Villimalé, a quaint residential island just a breath away from the city, yet carrying a world of its own. We really loved it from our first glance
At Malahini Resort, we met quite a few Bangladeshi brothers. One of them was Anwar, from Cumilla. He would often talk to us and check in to see how we were doing. The day before we were to leave the resort, he found out that we’d be spending a day in the capital, Malé. That’s when he suggested, ‘You should visit Villimalé (Villingili). It’s really beautiful, peaceful beaches, and you’ll get a glimpse of how the locals live by the sea.’
My son and I decided to follow Anwar’s suggestion. And that’s how after arriving in Malé, we took a little time to check in and freshen up at the hotel and then set off for Villingili
Vilimalé greeted us like an old friend, quiet, colorful, and full of life in the most unassuming ways. We arrived in the afternoon, when the sun had begun to soften and the island was slowly waking up from its midday rest. We strolled along the beach, letting the rhythm of the waves guide us, and quickly realized that this wasn’t just a place, it was a gentle rhythm of living.
Everywhere we looked, there were tiny glimpses of humanity, sweet nothings, really, but the kind that make a place unforgettable. We saw two youngsters sitting on a swing, lost in deep conversation, as if the world around them had vanished. Just a little further down, two elderly citizens mirrored the same scene, also on a swing, equally absorbed in their own quiet exchange. It struck me how conversation, across generations, had found its sacred space here
The island had spaces carved out for everyone. Recreational areas were sprinkled thoughtfully across the land, inviting both the young and old to step out, breathe, and belong. As the sun began its descent, we saw more and more people emerging from their homes, children playing, families gathering near the shore, neighbors leaning against colorful walls exchanging daily stories. There was a profound simplicity in it all, a culture of connection, held together by time, tradition, and tide
One thing I adored was the palette of colors, houses in hues of blue, pink, and green added a joyful softness to the streets. Local buses trundled along quietly, connecting corners of the island, making life easier not just for tourists like us, but for the people who called this place home
At one point, I stopped by a humble juice stall and, with a bit of curiosity, asked the shopkeeper if he had any old coins to exchange for my Maldivian rufiyaa. To my surprise, he smiled warmly, searched through his collection, and found some for me. It wasn’t just a kind gesture, it felt like a small act of honor, a way of saying we see you, and we care. That exchange stayed with me; you know, respect can live in even the smallest interactions
Vilimalé may be a little island, but it left a great impression on us
True that beauty lives not just in landscapes or luxury, but in everyday warmth, in shared swings and sunset talks, and in the quiet magic of simply being present, with a place, and with someone you love
If you ever visit the Maldives, don’t forget to stop by the little island of Vilimalé. Whether you’re there for a stroll, a swim, or simply to slow down, Villimalé feels like a hidden corner of everyday island life
Luz
Light pours in like a gentle guest
She stands where warmth meets wonder
Paint in her hand, soft power in her stance
The table glows with quiet intention
Each colour catching a piece of the day …
Luz
Spanish for ‘light’ ….
I♥️
Mindful Drawing Moments by Jian Bird Creates
It’s so satisfying to host sessions like Mindful Drawing Moments’ – what began on a quiet day with a simple act of curiosity. I invited a few willing souls to join me in the pattern artworks I usually create to calm my mind and return to myself. One participant became two, and slowly, word spread. That’s how ‘Mindful Drawing Moments’ was born: gently, organically, like something blooming in its own time …
Since then, these sessions have become spaces where self-help and creativity meet. Through themes like Kaizen, Kintsugi, Manifestation, Self-Love, and Mindfulness, each gathering offers more than just art, it becomes a mirror, a soft release, a shared breath …
Our recent sessions, themed ‘Let Go and Let Bloom,’ invited participants to reflect through drawing wildflowers, free, untamed, purposeful. Dried flowers from my mother’s garden were placed on the table, not just for beauty, but as a quiet symbol: that even after loss or struggle, something fragile and meaningful can still remain …
The way the participants picked up color, poured their thoughts into shapes, and shared reflections was deeply moving. There was no pressure to be an artist, only an invitation to be present …
We began with simple prompts, one that echoed was: ‘Never mind what they’.
Almost all said: ‘think’.
And so the letting go began …
From releasing judgment to choosing kindness, from holding space for others to forgiving ourselves, each voice in the circle added something honest and real. The drawings bloomed with color, but more importantly, so did the people …
The session closed with open hearts and softened edges. And with each event, Jian Bird Creates now offers a Certificate of Participation, a small reminder that showing up for yourself is something to honor …
Warmly,
Roksana Amelia
Artist, Jian Bird Creates
Go My Way
Today, I poured watercolours onto the paper. I didn’t control the flow. I just let them move, soft, wild, honest …
It felt like life. Sometimes, it makes no sense. But still, I move with it. I let it run through me. I follow what feels true, even if no one else understands it …
Nothing made sense today. Nothing went as planned. But I chose to go anyway.
Go right. Go forward. Go my way …
Because even when nothing goes right,
I can still go right …
In my own way …
Someone
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♥️
What I know Now
My Dear R,
I hope this letter finds you well. As Aristotle once said, “Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom.” With that in mind, I wanted to share some important reminders—lessons I’ve learned and wisdom I’ve gathered over time …
First, remember that happiness isn’t just a destination; it’s the journey itself. Think of each moment as a precious gem to be savored. Immerse yourself in what you love, whether it’s painting a vivid canvas, losing yourself in a good book, tending to your garden, or enjoying the company of friends. Don’t hold back. Learn the practice of “wabi-sabi.” While wabi-sabi primarily focuses on finding beauty in imperfection and the transient nature of life, it also emphasizes appreciating simple, everyday moments. Appreciate more of your self-care and personal expression. Dress in your favorite outfits, experiment with makeup, or enjoy a pampering session as a way to celebrate yourself and find joy in small, delightful ways. Embrace and cherish the present moment …
Don’t overthink. Eliminate self-doubt and self-criticism. Don’t ever think you’re not enough; you are enough, just as you are. As Eleanor Roosevelt said, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” Don’t let negative thoughts take root in your mind. Instead, focus on starting a skincare routine, eating healthy meals, maintaining regular exercise or yoga, and taking care of your personal hygiene. Remember, your brain and body are closely linked; when one suffers, the other often does too …
My dear, do you laugh often? Laughter is a reflection of our inner state of being, so let it flow freely. Find that spark that lights up your eyes. Be passionate about something—whether it’s a hobby, a project, playing an instrument, exploring nature, or even just a ride all on your own …
Seek connection and company. Share your joys, sorrows, and daily happenings with the right people. Building and nurturing these relationships is essential for your well-being. The support and understanding of others can provide strength and perspective in difficult times. But also never ever let anyone tell you otherwise or bring you down …
Read as many books as you can, starting from a young age. As George R.R. Martin said, “A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies . . . The man who never reads lives only one.” Reading will enrich your life and make the most of your time in the best possible ways …
Please darling don’t forget to walk daily, move, run, or dance, for ‘to keep the body in good health is a duty… otherwise we shall not be able to keep our mind strong and clear.'” – Buddha
You have the power to create a beautiful life for yourself. Embrace every opportunity to grow, learn, and love. You’ve got this. The time is now to be bold about who you are. Hold no regrets. Try more things. Cross some lines. It won’t matter to anyone. Love yourself as you are. And remember, you are always beautiful, kind, and worthy of being loved, cared for, and respected.
Consider Oprah Winfrey’s journey. Despite facing significant challenges and adversities in her early life, she embraced every opportunity for growth and learning, ultimately becoming one of the most influential and successful figures in the world. Her story is a testament to the power of self-love, resilience, and the pursuit of one’s true self. As she often says, “The biggest adventure you can take is to live the life of your dreams.”
You’ll discover a unique happiness that comes from simply living and enjoying everyday, mundane pleasures. Imagine a painter who, after years of searching for inspiration in grand landscapes, finally finds true joy in capturing the simple beauty of a sunlit kitchen, a blooming garden, or the quiet streets of their neighborhood. Their art reflects the contentment found in everyday moments, illustrating how the ordinary can bring profound happiness.
Love deeply and passionately. Someone unique will come into your life. He won’t possess the conventional markers of success you once thought were essential in a partner. On your first date, he might give you a ride home on the handlebars of his bike because he doesn’t have a car and can’t afford to rent one. But don’t worry about these. Rather you may find that he’s incredibly funny, intelligent, and has remarkable integrity.
And lastly, be funny, kind, empathetic, caring, and respectful. Be vulnerable. Wouldn’t you agree that these qualities make life richer and more fulfilling?
You warm my heart,
Roksana
A letter to the younger self
However, no matter how old you are, there’s always something to learn from any moment or from anyone who is an integral part of your life right now. Learn what you can from those you admire and most importantly from the walk of your own life and apply it in real sense as much as possible ….
What do you think?
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
.
.
.
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 …
Love
You ask about my love
How deep it is for you …
And the extent of my affection …
My feelings are genuine
And my love is sincere
The moon symbolizes my love …
So tender was the kiss
That touched my heart
Such deep affection
Makes me yearn for you …
You ask about my love
How deep it is for you …
Reflect on this
And gaze above
The moon symbolizes my heart …
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) …
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 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.
Nan Nikkeoya
My thoughts are scattered …
Oh dear!
Restless I feel …
My heart aches deeply …
He captivates my heart …
My thoughts are scattered …
Right now …
Oh dear!
I continually shatter my heart,
Dispersing its fragments
Until they touch
The depths of your being,
My beloved …
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” …
Finding Joy
Desires unmet, dreams fade
Yet, gratitude fills the heart
Finding joy in what we have …
Discovering happiness doesn’t always involve fulfilling your desires.; it’s about cherishing what you already possess and expressing gratitude for it …
Finding Joy in life’s simple yet priceless pleasures, like
-relishing solitude at home
-preparing homemade meals
-writing letters in such era of emojis and instant messaging
-engaging in agenda less conversations with loved ones
-spreading joy with smiles and laughter
-lighting fragrant candles
-tending to plants, and
-expressing ‘I love you’ selflessly and unconditionally
-coming back to home by walking and appreciating the friendly neighbourhood and the beautiful surroundings with greenery and flower blossoming
And many more of such things ….
Please do share some of your small moments in which you find joy ….
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?
^^
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!
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?
Roksana Tales 