brush's own ways

surroundings of Sitarampur

Let me love

"For God's sake hold your tongue and let me love"

leaves

Leaves are words of a tree-which is soft spoken.
And with these words the tree tells beautiful tales. If you ask me if
I ever heard of any tale-I'll say-no, my dear friend. The birds know
it.
But perhaps I have heard many fantastic tales when the leaves throw
some bizarre tales in a stormy night.
But the trees then are not soft-spoken.

existence in dream

return to life

One -in young days dreams and wants for many things and spreads to
varuoius directions. Not all wishes and dreams are fulfilled. If there
was anything at all that can satisfy a person! In the end and it is
felt that one was actually born in a wrong world that satisfy none! Or
because the very person was wrong in a right world?
So when it is time for the sun of life leaving this world -the tired
birds of our wishes return -unfulfilled and gather round the tree from
where they once flied to cross the horizons.

delight of being unknown like grass

There is always a burden of being known and seen by others. Why? It's
because none knows you. You are not good nor you are bad. You are
neither this nor that. You are only YOU.
And it is only belonging to this unreflected self -you can discover
the joy of existence.
Nobody knows the purpose of your existence-except you.

Mallika

"...Curse, bless, me now with yours fierce tears, I pray,
Do not go gentle into that good night....."

Dylan Thomas