Love her...

Love her... When she sips on your coffee.
She only wants to make sure it tastes just right for YOU!

Love her... When she is jealous.
Out of all the men she can have, she chose YOU!

Love her... When she has annoying little habits that drive you nuts.
YOU have them too!

Love her... When her cooking is bad.
She tries for YOU!

Love her... When she makes you watch corny love dramas while the sport is on.
She wants to share these moments with YOU!

Love her... When she spends hours to get ready.
She only wants to look her best for YOU!

Love her... When often her eyes water suddenly.
She actually had a thought of losing YOU!

Rone de...

"‎Rone de aaj humko
Do aankhe sujane de!
Bahon mein ley ley
Aur khud ko bhig jane de
Hai jo sine mein kayed dariyaan
Woh choot jaiga
Hai itna dard
K tera daman bheeg jaiga...."

Past by Pablo Neruda

We have to discard the past
and, as one builds
floor by floor, window by window,
and the building rises,
so do we go on throwing down
first, broken tiles,
then pompous doors,
until out of the past
dust rises
as if to crash
against the floor,
smoke rises
as if to catch fire,
and each new day
it gleams
like an empty
plate.
There is nothing, there is always nothing.
It has to be filled
with a new, fruitful
space,
then downward
tumbles yesterday
as in a well
falls yesterday's water,
into the cistern
of all still without voice or fire.
It is difficult to teach bones
to disappear,
to teach eyes
to close
but
we do it
unrealizing.
It was all alive,
alive, alive, alive
like a scarlet fish
but time
passed over its dark cloth
and the flash of the fish
drowned and disappeared.
Water water water
the past goes on falling
still a tangle
of bones
and of roots;
it has been, it has been, and now
memories mean nothing.
Now the heavy eyelid
covers the light of the eye
and what was once living
now no longer lives;
what we were, we are not.
And with words, although the letters
still have transparency and sound,
they change, and the mouth changes;
the same mouth is now another mouth;
they change, lips, skin, circulation;
another being has occupied our skeleton;
what once was in us now is not.
It has gone, but if the call, we reply;
"I am here," knowing we are not,
that what once was, was and is lost,
is lost in the past, and now will not return.

22 se Srabon

Jekhane shurur kotha bolar aagei sesh
sekhane mukh dubiye khujte chawa amar e ovyesh
jekhane rod palano bikel belar ghran
sekhane chutbo bhavi gilbo golpo bhul hobe banan

ei bujhi foskalo haath ar kalo raat kore shomoy gelo ayojone
prottek din bhoy pawa shob ichhe gulo onek jhorer shobdo shone

ekbar bol nei tor keu nei, keu nei, keu nei
ekbar bol nei tor keu nei, keu nei, keu nei
ekbar bol nei tor keu nei, tor keu nei...

jebhave drishyo onek gilche amay roj
sebhavei aaral pele bhangchi ami hochhi je nikhoj
jekhane daak pathale mrito deher bhire
sekhanei tulchi chobi tolchi neshay aaschi abar fire

ei bujhi foskalo haath ar kalo raat kore shomoy gelo ayojone
prottek din bhoy pawa shob ichhe gulo onek jhorer shobdo shone

aaj sesh mesh nei tor keu nei, keu nei, keu nei
aaj sesh mesh nei tor keu nei, keu nei, keu nei
aaj sesh mesh nei tor keu nei, keu nei, keu nei

ekbar bol nei tor keu nei, tor keu nei...eh hey
tor keu nei...oh hooo
tor keu nei...aa haaa

Ghor! ~ Mondakranta Sen

Ghor bolte chayay ghera bari

Duuar khule uthone pa pore

Ghor bolte firbo taratari

Ghor bolte tomay mone pore

Ghor bolte math’er pore math

Aal’er dhare rod meleche paa

Deeghee’r kol’e bhanga shaan’er ghat

Bhaat reNdhechi, naite jabe na?

Ghor bolte sondhye neme ele

Pidim jwele bosbo pashapashi

Nijhum para, 8’ta beje gele

Durer theke shunbo rail’er baNsi

Ghor bolte somosto raat dhore

Ghumer thekeo nibir bhalobasa

Ghor bolte tomar du-chokh bhore

Sopno gulo kuriye niye asa

Ghor bolte esob khutinati

Ghor bolte akash theke bhumi

Ek dike poth, bisom haNtahaNti

Poth’er sesh’e, ghor bolte tumi!