A Scoop of Sunshine

The arid parts of the country longed for the rains. The sky so dry, reflected the parched barren ground. All signs of life were remotely preserved. The days were long and hot, and the nights were too short. The locals believed that the sun spread special rays for this region. They considered this a blessing. The sun scorched the earth for 45 days and at the end of that time, the peacock danced in the secret garden and rain would fall to quench the thirst of this dry land.

The tiger eye glistens, urging Troy to make a move. Years of travel allowed him to explore so many new lands, learn a wealth of lessons, feed his wide-eyed thirst for the unknown.

মার মেডিকেল চেম্বার হাওড়া নদীর বাঁধের ওপার এক ছোট্ট শহরে ছিল। কলেজের ছুটিতে বাড়িতে এসে বাবা-মার সাথে আমিও জেতাম প্রতি সন্ধ্যা সেই শহরে। মাকে চেম্বারে ছেড়ে, বাবা আর আমি জেতাম ইভনিং ওয়াকে।

মা, তুমি আনন্দময়ী, চির শীতলা প্রবাহিনী, তোমার উজ্জ্বল মুখে, হারিয়ে ফেলি শত দুঃখ বেদনা, শুধু মনে থাকে তোমার আভা, চিরস্থায়ী শান্তি। মা, তুমি ক্লান্তিহারিণী, দিনের শেষে তোমার কোলে হারিয়ে যাই আমি, শুখে ঘুমিয়ে পড়ি আত্মহারা প্রাণী। মা, তুমি কঠোর রূপিণী, তোমার রাগে লুকিয়ে থাকে কত যে ভালোবাসা! মা, তুমি দয়াময়ী নির্মলা, তোমার আদরে লুটিয়ে পড়ে এই জগৎ সারা। আমার শত রূপে, তোমার শত রূপ, মা! রোগে, শোকে, শুখে, দুঃখে, তুমি যে আমার মা!

Traversing through the wilderness, Troy spotted the moon behind the clouds. There was a mystic aura about it, as if it had the power to heal a thousand scars. The moonlight lit the distance he needed to cover, but the grey clouds hid the way.

I make plans, Golden and festive, As I glance, At the sliding sands in the Hour glass.

Pitter-patter raindrops, Falling from the clouds. Left to right, right to left, You swing as the wind blows.

Gazing at the flowing sands of Time, Reminiscing times sublime, Captures a momentary happiness, That leaves a smile on forlorn faces.

Stealing a glance at the person in the mirror, I looked to find a face so familiar, Yet there were lines that have appeared, Some streaks of grey here and there.

"That's the mountain where fire goes to sleep", said one of the old locals, "Nobody goes there after sun down." René listened with intent. He drove this far along the dusky road to reach the village, which lay at the foothills of the mountain. The waters from a nearby stream added a sparkling sound to the misty mountain air. He picked up his back-pack and walked into the small hut, his base, for the next few days.

Lady on the swing, Your hair blows in wind, As you sit there swaying, As if in a dream.

শারদত্সবের আমেজে মোহন দাদা মেতে উঠেছিল। নিজের দৈনন্দিন কাজের ফাঁকে এই কয়টা দিনে সে দুর্গাপূজার আয়োজন এবং অনুষ্ঠানে যোগদান দিয়ে সমস্ত কিছু আমোদ প্রমোদে ভুলিয়ে দিত। পূজোর শেষে শারদীয়া যাত্রাপালা দেখা তার বাত্সরিক রীতি ছিল। প্রত্যেকবারের মত এইবার ও সন্ধ্যারতির শেষে মোহন দাদা ও তার বনধু সাইকেল বের করে যাত্রা দেখতে রওয়ানা হল।

There was a wise old man, Who sat under a tree, spick and span. Children played around him, Clustered chirps and cherry blossom swings.

Valentine's day is here, With romantic souls declaring love near and far. "Oh it's love", they say, "The crazy, undying kind, Which cannot be tempered by the rain or wind" Oh silly, silly mind!

There is something about children dancing that makes them essentially so cute. But then, there is something about them dancing to a song that goes, " saree ke fall sa kabhi match kiya re " or " chitiyan kalaiyyan " which makes me want to close my ears and imagine them dancing to something, say, more befitting to a six year old, to start with?

Sara was sitting on the usual arm chair in her room, looking out of the window at the lawn outside. It was a pleasant sunny day, the grass green and sky blue, a lonely bird sang a tune on the branch of a nearby tree.

I had my father's eyes, As blue as the sky. He named me Narin, The sister of Yazdin.

It was early morning, around 4 am and the marriage ceremony was finally over. The bride and the groom were ushered into another room, while the rest of us, the " baraati ", walked downstairs and waited for our vehicles near the entrance gate, which was so well lit up last evening, but now had only few sleepy stray dogs and an artillery of mosquitoes doing the rounds. Yes, the festivities were over.

After being asked about a hundred times about what I thought about the documentary "India's Daughter", I finally had to write this down. All the ruckus about the documentary India's Daughter only reiterates one phrase - Much Ado about Nothing. Now before being bombarded with all sorts of negative comments, let me make one thing clear, my solidarity lies where yours lie too - with the Nation, with the women of the Nation, with the women all over the World and with those good men who fall through the wormhole of generalization.

Times Now had to stoop down to a new low in journalism - by trying a desperate attempt to Shame our Men in Blue by firing the Twitter trend #ShamedInSydney. What they did not realize was the fact that it would come to bite them when Twitter hit back with the trend #ShameOnTimesNow.