Solitude

Where is the beauty of solitude

That the hermits talk about?

The virginal maiden of the hills

With her perfumed hair 

And light gait

Her charming smile

With a song on her lips.

Solitude for me 

Is a grotesque sea creature-

With bloody fangs

And sagging skin

Body covered in blisters and pus

Groaning a dying cry

Haunting me for life.

I keep wishing to learn to love her,

But she scares me.

I keep trying to fill the room 

Between her and me 

With people who do not care about me.

What is my fear?

That I will learn a little more

about myself in her company 

And not like what I discover?

100 years of Satyajit Ray - a tribute- প্রফেসর শঙ্কু ও ঈজিপ্সীয় আতঙ্ক

প্রফেসর শঙ্কু ও ঈজিপ্সীয় আতঙ্ক -Part 2

Happy Mother’s Day 🌸🌸🌸

A mother is a nurturer. In nature, you will often see motherhood reaching out across species when there is a need. An orphaned kitten could be raised by a monkey or a piglet saved from slaughterhouse might learn how to be a sheep dog from its adopted mother which happens to be a farm dog. 

Motherhood is not just biological. If we are fortunate, we get unconditional love from our own mothers and then some. Through the years, you also come across people who know when to hug you when you are feeling low, feed you when you are hungry, love you when you are hurting, and cheer you to reach the finishing line when you are doubting yourself. 

To my mother and all those who have been a mother to me - even for a minute- I raise a toast 🥂 to you. May your magic 🪄 live forever in our hearts. ❤️❤️❤️