Skip to main content

When the Sun meets the Moon

 


The greatest and the oldest
Lovers of the universe,
The Sun and the Moon,
Meet regularly after the noon.

It's  the evening,
When they meet,
Their love creates a beautiful scenario,
Worth appreciating.

The sky turns orange and seems so beautiful,
When the Sun meets the Moon,
Both know that, Sun will have to depart,
And the Moon bids goodbye with the whole of her heart.

The differences in their nature,
And their differentiated schedule,
Has never affected their feelings for each other,
As their love has always been pure.

And when the sun meets the moon,
And creates such a beautiful scenario after the noon,
Why have I lost my favorite,
And was forced to say "The sunset is beautiful, isn't it? "

   

 -Sam


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Dhormer Age Nari (by Gitangshu Adhikary)

  Dhormer Age Nari ---------------- Hindu ar Muslim kore desher bayna, Keu aaj mile-mishe thakte aar chay na. Kintu aaj jokhon kotha othe nari-bhoger, Tokhon uchu-nichu, Hindu-Muslim kaukei chhara jay na. Nari manei jeno or opor shokoler odhikar, Taake bhog korte sadhu-neta — keu baad jay na aar. Mondire ghonta baje, mosjide azaan, Baire dhormer naame koto rokter gaan! Othochho ondho golite eka, ottachaarito, meyeti jokhon kaade, Dhormo tokhon daray ki taar pashe protibaade? Je haat guli sokale tole prarthonar phool, Raater andhare shei haat-i kore keno paap aar bhool? Jaat niye borai, dhormo niye juddho, Shobhyotar poshak porleo bhetorta oshuddho. Ghorer meyer jonno chai shat-tolar ghor, Onyer meye dekhle keno bodle jay nojor? Nijer boner chokher jol — jaeno pobitro dhaara nodir, Onyer boner aartonade kaan hoy keno bodhir? Netar mukhe narishokti, shadhur mukhe maya, Camera-ta shore gelei bodle jay kaya. Monche bole: “Ma amader, Debi amader pran,” Aral pele shei Debir-i kore dhorsh...

THE FLOOR THAT WAS NEVER BUILT (by Gitangshu Adhikary; Plot by Sourodipto)

  THE FLOOR THAT WAS NEVER BUILT Author: Gitangshu Adhikary Plot: Sourodipto Part I — The Sounds Above By midnight, everyone in Kankurgachi Heights knew the footsteps would begin. No one spoke about them in daylight. The residents laughed in elevators, complained about leaking taps, argued over parking spaces, paid maintenance fees, and posted photographs of sunsets from their balconies. They behaved like people who believed concrete could keep the world ordinary. Then the clock crossed twelve. The footsteps came. Not loud. Measured. Patient. Someone walking across a floor that did not officially exist. ... A child on the sixth floor had once asked his mother why the footsteps always sounded as though they stopped directly above his bedroom. She slapped him before she realized she had done it. Three days later, the family moved away without informing the housing society. Nobody took Flat 6C again. ... The tower stood in one of Kolkata's ...

The Voices Beneath Ugrachandi (by Gitangshu Adhikary)

  The Voices Beneath Ugrachandi By Gitangshu Adhikary   Chapter One: The Fire The fire had already consumed everything before the first engine reached the abandoned orphanage. By then the sky itself had turned the color of burnt blood. The villagers stood beyond the bamboo barricades, faces glowing orange beneath the towering inferno, whispering prayers that no one remembered completely. Some stared at the flames. Others stared beyond them—toward the ancient temple of Maa Ugrachandi that overlooked the burning building from a mound of black stone. Nobody looked at the temple for very long. The idol had no eyes. Only deep hollows. And tonight those hollows seemed to burn brighter than the fire. Senior Fire Officer Sourodipto Pallodhi leapt from the truck before it had fully stopped. "Water lines!" His voice cut through the roar. The crew moved with practiced precision. Hoses uncoiled. Pumps thundered alive. Water exploded into the inferno. Not...