On silence , part 6

It is not all desert..it is not all the scorching radiance..it is not all about finding a oasis...

There are beduins..and caravans too..going for a journey similar to Santiago...The caravns with people of ancient wisdom, expertise, experience..and they all are willing to guide you to reach the oasis..

And,on the way they will come to the river, thanking her for giving a special treat of rest, peace and drinking water to fulfill the thirst...

Its a new voyage, untill the oasis is met..on the way there are people with diiferent creed and cultures too..and desert creatures with interesting features.

It reminded the river of a story of Santiago, a sheperd boy, who passed through a desert too, to see the pyramid of his dream. The boy who spent one year turing ordinary glasses to sparkling crystals after loosin the weath he gained and turned a clumsy shop to the most interesting cafe-place over a hill-top. The boy who never gave up hope to follow the journey of his destiny.

The river is no longer sad, confused, frustrated.

It started loving the surroundings, focusing only on the positive aspects...and learning continues.

Most importantly, now it knows how to handle the storms, when lonely flowing in a Desert..:D

On silence , part 5

The river..jumped from the hill..and then found herself in another valley..even though beautiful, full with rocks which split the river into separate streams...

I'll never forget how I left the hill..how I jumped..and how I came to this valley..the river told to herself.

The valley was not like the previous green one...it has no breezy soft wind carrying the smell of lavender. Neither does it have the mapple leaves falling beside the stream..or beautiful lakes whispering to the river...

It was a valley with hardly any green..hardly any smell of flower...there are plenty of rocks..and stones scattered..thee stones are no longer the multicolored ones..or like the marble-white once..the stones are soem how different..but what is the diffrenece is not much prominent..........

Th river felt a strange wind..the wind carrying a smell of a desert..The desert she always feared..

The temparature at the begining was like the same soft cold...but then...things started changing..

The riverr no longer has that full deep current..it no longer has that sparks...

Am I going to be a poor sad desert stream??? There will be no friends from valley..no lakes..no mapple trees..no icey lakes..no falls reflecting rainbows...

Only yellow sands passing in the direction of winds..and getting over each other, covering each other, blowing with the wind's direction..

And there will be mirrage to fool my soul..and some date trees, if I ever reach to a Oasis..and some vagabonds perhaps...

The river suddenly felt..it started splitting in to sepatate streams.Small rocks, that were supposed to be washed aways in that deep current once she possesed, are now splitting her into small strings...

The valley somehow remined her of a very old place at her young begining..near the icy rocks where she started herr journey. That place also have same no-leaf-no-breeze feeling...but at least the river knew it just strated the journey with newly melted ice and sharp current...It knew there are promising path and turns to come...

Where am I heading?

What I have become??

And then.the river realized..she is no longer that deep sparkling stream with the power to cut in the middle of teh moutain..

She is heading to be a gutter..to meet the other ones nearby...

The sky is so hot..only scorching sun is there..no twinkling of friends up above..no green mapples whispering..They all are invisible..only a very verry bright white sky..so white that one hardly will be interested to look into..

Is this the same sky that used to mesmerize me?The river thought..

But this sky does not inspire me any more...it is not like that free blue azure spreding massgae of truth,freedom, vastness and sereneity.

Where are my stars?where are my clouds? or the cloud is there still to cover ..to protect from the scorching one..

And where are the whispering from lakes,waiverring from seas from far distance..whom I never see??

The river kept wondering...........about being in the gutter...

and about the twinkling stars..

And the thousand light years in between ..

:)

On silence , part 3

The rain..the much waited rain started...

The river, even if she is from mounatin, always loved rain..She belived, rains are essential for a river like her..even if she has the adored snowy streams coming from mountain each day...She beleived rains are there to make her strong, to make her evolve...sweet sound of raindrops falling on her shore reminds her of the sweet sound of sparlikg water drops in the snowy mountain, where the river grew up in when she was young...

But the rain started was not the rain she ever imagined..it was not a rain of sweet drops falling from sky and kissing her surface..its the rain coming from not upabove, but from just high upper layer/..The rain was so heavy ..that it flooded the river and the side..the surface got hurt by each fierce and dangling drop...In pain, the river noticed, she is losing herslef..she is losing control of her flow...The sky was dark, the wind was unheard, the moon was absent, the twinkles were missing...Only Dark water and fierce rain..In her entire path from the mountain to the lakes to the sand, never ever the river faces such a rain..it was not a rain that can kiss hr surface and abosrobed in her pure water, but the kind of rain that'll hurt the surface, distort the banks, flood the sides....

What should I do, should I beg the cloud to stop? But he is nit listening..he is still getting mroe and more vapor, he is getting darker..why is he not listening? why he is so curel?

The river remembered the old days..when the same could was much lighter..like a soft cotton bal, and the rain was there in breezy afternoons..The same cloud used to bring fresh rain water and used to enrich her with tender drops..

What happened to those days? Why things got chnaged? Is it my fault? Is it the cloud who chnaged? Or is the scorching sun and amibience...

The river cried, in anger, in pain, in frustration...

No body was there to listen to her.......

On silence , part 4

The rains slowed down in the cold dark night....the thunders disappeared...the sky was pitch black....the cloud was invisible....

The river again came to sense the the stratospfere above it....a sad and lonely night has started. Silence every where. Those waiting in the shore were sleeping, those smiling from up above were invisible, only a suppressed wound of weeping...

No, the river stopped crying. It was just waiting for the next day to come. It was just taking rest, and thinking about the old dreams, thinking about the tender playful days of snowy mountains, and about the green vallyes it came accross.

On the next day, at the dawn, when the cloud was a bit lighter, and the rays of sun was coming behind the cloud, the river wake up..she heard a noise..somee thing is coming...some thing she knows, but can't get what it actually is..

with the shade of cloud and rain of the past old days, she was full with power, resource. So, she decided she'll flow. She'll flow like she never did..not following the path and turns on the coming vallye, but to the will of her own. And she'll not make a different path while get the tender soft stones, neithe she'll avoid the hard rocks. She'll destry..everything coming in her way....so that nothing will come in the way of the streams that'll follow the same path she did..

But, where is she heading..where are those dream-meeting horizon she heard long ego..in which way she can see the place where the deeep blue sea get kissed by a the deep blue sky...

Is is just a story or a dream...or illusion??

Before she realized....There was the end of the valley to another far beneath..

And she jumped of from the up above..........with sound of ten thousand fire balls bursting....before anyone could stop her.

or, is there anybody from the valley who really cared to stop her?

On silence, part 2

Time passed...and the river continued flowing. The cloud also accompanieed.

The cloud started seeing itself reflected on the river..It became happy, satisfied... The Blue sky and the white little bunch of clouds..like soft cotton balls were smilng together on the bank..On sunny days, the river thought she would not think about those friends up above..would not remember the twinkles...

The cloud said it'll help her..so it strech itself and cover the river as much as possible..and the river continued resting in peace...

But The cloud was getting darker , larger, denser................Sound of thunder started rising everywhere....and a chilling lightening...The cloud was getting spread not only on river, but also on the villages on the side..the forests..the small ponds, the beautiful fountains, the clam lakes and some part of deep seas...

Then one day, the cloud became so heavy that the entire sky near by the river was covered..the sun disappeared...there was dark in the midday...The river wake up in the thunder, in the dark...but could not see anything..She asked cloud to not to spread any more ..But the thunder was too loud to the listen to that tiny stream-sound..

In vain, river searched for the twinkles, hoping they'll help her to shed a ittle drop of light from up aboe. But there was no sky....only darkness getting darker and darker. The only hope was sudden lightening of the cloud. It was painful for both of the river and the cloud, but it could at least made the cloud reflect at times...

And then, the rain started...

On silence , part 1

Those waiting in the shore kept gossiping..and whispering to the river..The little friends winking at her

from up above..and she smiled back..

On days of scorching radiance, The river wanted to sleep,but ..........

And then, the cloud came..

The twinkling friends from up above disappeared...

who echoed thier little quanta of happiness on her, once...and the cloud shade the river.....

The river slept, with contentment. No scorching ..

The breeze accompanied..

In dreams she remebered those twinkles.She remembered how she thought to keep flowing..

Seldom to a serene lake..and often towards falls..

She remebered, how she wanted to..touch every shore..and how the blue infinitum inspired her to explore forward...

to fight cruel old rocks and turn them to golden dusts..

The dream ended. She got awake. The cloud is still there to protect her, no matter how fast she continue flowing, no matter even if she hide beneath a lake, or back of mountains...

Are those twinkles real, always?or it was mere a reflection ?

Thr river wandered....................................and then wait for the moon to disappear..wait for the cloud to wind away,hoping, only the brightest twinkle will keep smiling..

Then the time came, there is no Moon, no twinkles, only labyrinths on dark azure...................

And silence..the only contentment................

The memory of drew-drops..

The little glitters in morning grass makes me happy...

they say I am over-excited...I look bad, insane, uneducated..and I

deserve suffering for that.

Sad and afraid, I stay silent..and listen to them.

They say why are u sad and afraid, where is the happier you?

I say I am afraid my haters are increasing..

All I want is, spreading little quanta of happiness..

like my little friends do from upabove in the midst of coldest

mountain, oldest forest and infinite desert,

in the darkest night,with their shining blinks.

At times, I get mad..and complain ..shout..brood,

in anger on everything..every one..

And wait for the night to come,

to see those freinds smiling up above..

just like the morning dewdrops sparkling in sun-shine..

I calm down..

If I were run to them...

If I were run to them...

এক অন্ধকারের কাহিনী

১

সে আর্তনা বেশ স্ত্বব্ধ হয়েগেছে|

বোবা চাঁদের আলোয় শান্ত নিঝুম চারিপাশ,

ক্লান্ত তারারা উদাসী নজর এ ব্যস্ত রাত-পাহারায়;

কাকুলি দিদিদের বাড়ির কুল গাছ মায়াবী ছায়ায় হাতছানি দেয় মার্চ এর বসন্ত-বাতাসকে |

আমার মাথায় ভীর করে যত প্রশ্ন চিহ্নরা|

আচ্ছা, ও কি ঘুমিয়ে পড়েছে কাঁদতে কাঁদতে ?

নাকি চুপটি করে শুয়ে মনে করছে ওর হারিয়ে যাওয়া মায়ের কথা?

সস্তা কাঁচের চুরির রিনরিন আর সাবানের নিম গন্ধ?

কাজের বাড়ির বারান্দায় বসিয়ে ভোর বেলার আধঘুমন্ত খোকাকে

মুখ মুছিয়ে বলা: সোনা, দুষ্টুমি নয় একদম|

২

সকাল বেলায় ঘুম ভাঙ্গলো ...একরাশ কিচিরমিচির..

চড়ুই পাখি..আর তাদের দানা খাওয়ানো ওপাড়ার ভুলোদাদার সত্যানেব্ষী দলবল

ভিড় করে আসে কৌতুহলী সমাজসেবী জেঠিমাদের আলোচনায়..

"বুঝলেন পিসিমা , একদম থ্যাতলানো মাথা, আর ঘাড় থেকে আলাদা আপ লাইনের ধারে;

আর ডাউন এর ফিস্প্লেট এ বাকি সব, না দেখলে বুঝতেও পারবেননা কি অবস্থায় দেখলাম কাল|

শুনে কপাল চাপড়ান পিসিমা, কাল থেকে সত্তরতম বার হায়তবা,

মা নিয়ে এলো আমার জন্য সেই আলুর তরকারী আর মুড়ি,

সঙ্গে গুজিয়া,

বাইরে ততক্ষণ এ আলোচনা বেশ জোরদার|

নীলুর মাএর আক্ষেপ , হ্যাগা, একবার কোলের কচি বাচ্চাটার কথা ভাবলিনা, এত তেজ?

ভুলোদার গলা, সত্যি মানুস এর যে কখন কি হয়..

আমাদের নির্ঝনঝাট শহর তলি কদিন এর পর বেশ শোরগোল, টিভির ব্রেকিং নিউস এ|

আর সেই বিদ্রোহীনির মেয়ের গল্প|

যে আগুন জ্বালিয়েছিল,

আর তাতে পুড়ে খাক হয়েগেছিল এক মাংসলোভি বিয়ে-ব্যবসায়ী জানোয়ারএর দল|

শুনেছিলাম ওর স্বামীর প্রায় পুরোটাই ঝলসে গেছিল...হাত এ ধরা মদ এর বোতল টা শুধু গড়িয়ে গেছিলো এক পাশে|

আর পাশের বাড়ির কৌতুহলীদের দল

মেয়েটার কান্না , মাতাল আর বাচ্চাটার চীত্কার

রোজ রাত এর মতন ভেবে ডুবে গিয়েছিল ঘুম এর জগত এ|