Author: Rituparna

A woman who relentlessly strives to stay mystified by nature's ways; who doesn't seek to hear the unheard, know the unknown but feel the ever felt... the sweeping waves of eternity in each moment of life!

Amen

At a distance, the timeless breaths and shadows stills in the eternal wait and the weight of the world stills in the kites’ cries. The sky, trapped in a drop, turns into a song. In the circles of a ripple, I see my known. There I’ll merge.

the white spirit

It was mid-morning. The realization that all the bridges have been burnt, except for creation’s, crawls out of an uncompromised living; of accrued guilt over not-working; of confusion over the authenticity of the guilt. The wind carried the world’s sadness and the music the call of the world. There was no loneliness. Only absences. There…

নিলগৰ গান

তোমাৰ চকুৰ পতাই কঢিয়ায় সমুদ্ৰ-গৰ্ভস্থ  এক বিষাদ নে পাগলাদিয়াৰ ওপৰৰ স্থিৰ সেমেকা বতাহজাক য’ৰ পৰা নামে এই চিনাকি অচিনাকি ৰাষ্টাটো মোৰ বুকুলৈ পলকত দেখো সত্ত্বা বিয়পি পৰা এটি পোহৰ আৰু বহু হাহাকাৰ মই পাগলদিয়া পাৰ হ’ওঁ নেদেখা পাগলদিয়া পাগলদিয়াৰ কহুৱনিত মোৰ চিৰ-পৰিচিত, হেৰুৱাই পোৱা হুমুনিয়াহবোৰে জিৰণি লয় আমাৰ মাজত থিয় দিয়ে নিলগৰ সুগন্ধই বুকুৱেদি উজাই…

waning moon woods

We lingered a little longer, Caught in a white moment. As the leaves fluttered, there Outside the window, and the letters From the beige pages Waltzed through the hush, they Caressed our eyes; Eyes beholden by the Countless suns that were caught there too, In that white moment. And some unfading wonders. We were lost.…

Where Music Reigns: Dharamkot

Waking up to the scent of fresh mint and to a concerto grosso orchestrated by the warbles of the little birds, the mellow of a Spanish guitar drifting from a distance and the rhythmic fall of rain drops, is not an everyday happening. But in Dharamkot, a small village in Himachal Pradesh, it grew on…

Death of ‘nous’

I think we failed to tell us something Something that should have made space Betwixt the silences And yet unbound quietly; come and go Without imprints, without stabbing. But forced silences do not leave space They are louder than words, They stab until I am no more you and you me.

A Unique Chapter in the Slow Movement: Shillong

If anyone wishes to realize ‘slowness’ of life without succumbing to a lethargy of spirit; if anyone wishes to move ahead without exhausting the zest for life, then I would suggest: live in Shillong. Three years in Shillong wasn’t quite what I had in my mind when I was planning for my under-graduation. But it…

An Anecdote

The morning saunters through the small rusted gate, halts, captivated at the shrieks; ever animated, of bats and balls and hide and seek and at the gurgles of freedom, of long awaited vacations. While the local Jezebel dwelling in the daunting Jackfruit tree in the backyard; who gets maddened by torch light, the product of…

A Modern Silhouette

It stood there, beneath the amorphous space, Cold to the moon appearing from the west, A spotty bowl of doused fire It stood there, unaware of the succinct effigy of another scorching fire Beyond the window bars of its neighbour’s scullery Beckoning the dusk It stood there, unmoved by the fleeting incipient silence Caused by…