Tag: love

Posted in Poetry

যদি সত্যি হতে

Posted on by Oindri_I 
যদি তুমি সত্যি হতে,
আসতে একটা সাদা ঘোড়া ছুটিয়ে?
যদি তুমি সত্যি হতে,
ঢাকতে আমাকে একটা সাদা চাদরে?
যদি তুমি সত্যি হতে
খেলতে আমার কপালের চুলগুলো নিয়ে?

হয়তো ধরতে দিতে তোমার কড়ে আঙুল।
হয়তো খাইয়ে দিতে একটু বুড়ির চুল।
হয়তো তুমি ভিজতে একলা ময়দানে;
আর আমি দেখতাম তোমায় অপলকে।

যদি তুমি সত্যি হতে
আগলাতে আমাকে বলিষ্ঠ হাতে,
হয়তো আমি জড়িয়ে ধরতাম তোমায় পরম আশ্লেষে।
যদি তুমি সত্যি হতে
সারাতে আমার সব ক্ষত,
হয়তো তোমার নিশ্বাস থামতো হঠাৎ আমার চুম্বনে। 

কিন্তু তুমি তো সত্যি না। 
তুমি কি শুধুই কল্পনা?
নাকি গতজন্মের প্রেমিকা?
শুধু জানি মিশে আছো আমার সত্ত্বায়; 
রয়েছ কোনও নাম না জানা ঠিকানায়; 
অথবা কোনও অশরীরী উতল হাওয়ায়।
Posted in Poetry

Broken Vows

Posted on by Oindri_I 
I remember the kiss we shared
When we met for the first time and
The red envelope you handed me
With a letter of your open heart.
And I remember the last letter I wrote
And pinned with my earring
Before I left forever to chase my dream.

So, we had a promise;
A promise to build a future.
A pledge of love; left unfinished;
And a vow to grow old together.
And here we stand tonight;
Blocked on each other's device,
With dried tears on my cheeks
And broken poems in your notebook.

And you don't know
How I wish everynight
I could run back.
Run back to the alley
And hug you tight
And kiss you like the first time.
And tell you how much I want us.
How much sorry I am
For sleeping with another man
For every misunderstanding I had.

I wish I could turn the clock back.
And leave everything behind.
To get that moment again;
When I saw you for the last time;
On an August night
With hopes in our eyes
To meet again
In some foreign countryside.
And perhaps this the price
We have to pay for this life,
For every false promise we made,
For every broken vows we pledged.
Posted in Poetry

Wind Of Yorkshire

Posted on by Oindri_I 
This year's going to be colder than ever.
The wind is a bit harsh in Northern England.
And here I stand at Corn Exchange;
Waiting for bus number 51.

My friends are grooving in the jazz club;
My lover seems to be busy with his stuff.
And I am trying hard to remember, if;
Anything good happened to us in the past.

Winter's going to be a bit early this year.
There is a heavy snow alert in Yorkshire.
And my phone notifies me of the texts
From my secret admirers.
I know whom to take to my bed tonight,
I know whom to kiss on their thighs,
I know whom to seduce for another coffee date;
And I know who'll keep the marks of my bites.

My phone tells me to wait for half an hour.
Buses are late due to road construction.
I light up a cigarette to see the smoke;
Coiling up with each other.
And I wonder if I could ever coil up
With someone like that.

Each night I take a new man to my bed.
Each night I hold them for another hour.
Each night I try my best to keep it warm.
Each night my sweet passion turns sour.

And I start to walk to my accommodation.
Who knows; I might cross the road with the one.
And then I sigh a cold breath;
Just like the wind of Yorkshire.