Swing

tallulah by syluette

Diva

Discontentment with life

What I realized through all this introspective sketches of Tallulah (leaping water), is we were always rushing, constantly leaping like water through life always dissatisfied with what we have. We don't cherish life while it lasts. As a child we were grumpy and unhappy with the way things were and even as an adult we grumble and show distaste for everything we got. We don't enjoy with the little things that life offers and it goes away in a flash like the splash of waves. Like a bubble time flies away. We don't have time for ourselves to enjoy the moment while it was pleasant. We never give importance to things we have we always ask for more. We take things for granted and don't realize what we are loosing out...time to enjoy things as they are as we are never going to be satisfied with what we have achieved. What we don't perceive is that we have to love life as it is since nothing lasts forever!

Tallulah Montage

For the past few days I have been peeping into child's window and looking through their point of view. What I saw is a discontented child and I created Tallulah (leaping water)! Look at her swinging carelessly! May be she is dreaming about swinging on the rainbow!

Swing
Little Tallulah darling
Seated in the swing,
she lets herself fling
at the sky winking
her eyes twinkling!
The wind is humming
as she melodiously sings
sitting on the swinging seat
rocking her feet
to a rhythmical beat!
What could she be thinking?
She must be dreaming
fluttering her imaginary wings,
Strumming the colorful rainbow strings
lying on the crescent moon she swings!

Gogo- school girl

What could be she hiding? Surely she is up to some mischief! I can sense her laughter behind that pretty sullen face. She is rebellious like the unruly wave. She wants to break away from the closed walls of the school and the strangling tie in the uniform. Looks like she is going to melt into water! She is a stubborn, unyielding and a naughty, hot tempered girl! Perhaps she needs to cool down under a waterfall.

Miss Maple

Well here she seems to have grown. She is more amicable and comely. She is keen to talk, ready to mingle. She has so long been lonely and single. She appears to be inviting trouble!

Little Girl

If I could traverse back to my childhood universe!

No responsibilities or worry

No haste or hurry!

I bought this lovely statuette long time ago. It was love at first sight!

Meet my best companions!

booked by syluette
fam5_ by syluette

Let me introduce my wonderful friends to you. Meet Julian, Dick, Anne, their cousin Georgeina and her faithful dog Timmy a.k.a. Timothy! The mutinous, wild and fierce Tomboy, George and the ever-helpful Timmy are my favorite! Julian is the eldest and Anne is the youngest.They could do things, I secretly wish for but I can never imagine myself doing it. They share their adventures with me. Though I am just a silent observer,I am very much part of their adventures. Anne would envy me! There is much of Anne and a bit of George (shh secretly)in me too! Anne is unadventurous, timid, peace loving and the most sensible of the lot!Dick is fun loving, Julian is the wise one but ends up putting the others in danger! He acts like a grown up but makes all the inquisitive decisions and game plans leading the others to an adventure which could have been easily avoidable! George on the other hand is impulsive and doesn't think at all! She is adventurous and a hell of a troublemaker! and that's what I like about her. Whenever they are in danger, I do feel the tension in my nerves. Those anxious moments and suspense sets my pulse racing. The thrill of beating the odds and triumph in the end makes life more exciting. When they are solving the mysteries of life I am deeply involved in their world of troubles without actually being with them. I just have to peek into the window of their lives- The Famous Five book!. Here are some pictures of them I drew in my mind's eye!

Poweful Poems

There are some poems that I read in my childhood in school that I can still remember! They are so relevant and meaningful even in today's context. Some poems just swept me away by their sheer beauty, grandeur and picturesque narration that I can still recite them.
The first poem that captured my imagination was Alfred Noyes's The Highwayman-
Alfred Noyes -

The Highwayman

The wind was a torrent of darkness upon the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight looping the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding
Riding riding
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door.

He'd a French cocked hat on his forehead, and a bunch of lace at his chin;
He'd a coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of fine doe-skin.
They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to his thigh!
And he rode with a jeweled twinkle
His rapier hilt a-twinkle
His pistol butts a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred,
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter
Bess, the landlord's daughter
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

Dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim, the ostler listened--his face was white and peaked
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter
The landlord's black-eyed daughter;
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say:

"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart; I'm after a prize tonight,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light.
Yet if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

He stood upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair in the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the sweet black waves of perfume came tumbling o'er his breast,
Then he kissed its waves in the moonlight
(O sweet black waves in the moonlight!),
And he tugged at his reins in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.

He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon.
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon over the purple moor,
The redcoat troops came marching
Marching marching
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord; they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed.
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets by their side;
There was Death at every window,
And Hell at one dark window,
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.

They had bound her up at attention, with many a sniggering jest!
They had tied a rifle beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say,
"Look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though Hell should bar the way."

She twisted her hands behind her, but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it, she strove no more for the rest;
Up, she stood up at attention, with the barrel beneath her breast.
She would not risk their hearing, she would not strive again,
For the road lay bare in the moonlight,
Blank and bare in the moonlight,
And the blood in her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love's refrain.

Tlot tlot, tlot tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hooves, ringing clear;
Tlot tlot, tlot tlot, in the distance! Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding
Riding riding
The redcoats looked to their priming! She stood up straight and still.

Tlot tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment, she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight
Her musket shattered the moonlight
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him with her death.

He turned, he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the casement, drenched in her own red blood!
Not till the dawn did he hear it, and his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs in the golden noon, wine-red was his velvet coat
When they shot him down in the highway,
Down like a dog in the highway,
And he lay in his blood in the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.

And still on a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a gypsy's ribbon looping the purple moor,
The highwayman comes riding
Riding riding
The highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred,
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter
Bess, the landlord's daughter
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair

The Highwayman
Alfred Noyes

The narration was so colorful that it inspired me to write the poem called The Unfinished. Both the poems revolve around a ghost story!

ফেনা Foam a Bangla poem

ফেনা

দেখ সাধীনতার জোর

লেগেছে ঢেউয়ে নিরন্তর দৌড়!

টকবক টকবক ঝকমক ঝকমক

চঞ্চল ফেনা জল করে ছলছল ছলছল

ঝাকে ঝাকে যেনো ঘোড়ার দল

করে সাদা ঝলমল ঝলমল;

লাফে ঝাঁপে ছিটে ফোটা

ছেলেবেলা থেকেই হুড়োহুড়ি

জলের ফেনা করে খেলাধূলা দৌড়াদৌড়ি

ছিটে বিচ্ছিন্ন হয়ে গেল ধারে

নতুন জন্ম নিযে এলো পাড়ে

বারে বারে!

Translation- Wave foam

See freedom's might

and the limitless wave's marathon.

Trot trot sparkle twinkle.

The hyperactive foam's water ripple

time after time

like wild horses shining white,

jumping spraying and bubbling,

hurrying from early childhood.

Water's foam playfully playing and galloping,

shredding into thousand sprays

into the bay taking new birth

and crashing into the shore again and again!