Debatrayee Banerjee Quotes

For Past is never buried-
It just shines with a brighter ray,
Perhaps because now we look at it as a third person
Ushering in a smile with moist eyes
Which is but a reflection of an array of infinite emotions.

Indeed, Past is never buried-
It breathes silently,
Deep inside,
Distant yet alive.

I wait, wait to hear your silent footsteps.
I wait, wait to caress your distant voice.
I wait, wait to embrace myself in you.

She flew across the turbulent gust.
Her eyes fixed, her wings strong
She flies and flies and flies along.
To reach high, to open her wings to the breathing sun rise.

And there you stand -
Far away from the distant reality,
Far away in my breathing dream,
Far away in the traces of my livid eyes,
Far away in my hostile fantasy.

She had a dream, quite singular, dearest to her heart.
She had a dream, quite eccentric, treasured in her soul.
She nurtured it, she cuddled it and kept it covered in the twinkle of her eye and waited patiently with a fond expectation.
Yet in that sky wrapped in the radiance of a rainbow , all but that dream came alive.
She often smiled at that solitary dream with numb tears of pallid fulfilment.

She was perfectly sane in streets unknown. She loved conversing with people tagged as strangers. She was social, amiable & all that is her. Yet, with known people she felt unknown, she choked words and fought inside. And indeed she tripped insane while traversing those streets known. She stared at others and consumed their happiness through senses cold. And so she waits for Winter's warmth to touch her in streets of distant shore, in her own world of simple happiness.

I'll tell you what I miss.
I miss that throbbing heart telling me to take a leap when the sky looks too dark.
I miss the walk that I took in the narrow cobblestoned pathways that fumed of history and undying stories of love and loss.
I miss the coffee that scented like mist in a frozen dream in a land of strange beauty.
I miss the afternoon tea that followed my pen to hours of happy melancholy.
I miss the muse I saw dance in a foreign land of near heart.
I miss the stranger smiling at me from a corner and teaching me his language to smile at my twinkled happiness.
I miss that symphony of mad evenings ending in a sky full of stars to fill my soul with an unknown ecstasy.
I miss that hand of an old woman trying to tell me her story.
I miss that child running up to me in a crowd of unknown faces to hand me her candy.
I miss that night where I lay back on a distant balcony gazing at the solitary moon for hours knowing that it is shining at my homeland just as bright.
I miss that stranger listening to my heart and telling me how beautiful it is.
I miss a wandering soul, who went on filling her breath with life of eternal love in the wings of Life.
And I'll tell you now when I look back I see how wonderful Time has treated me and how grateful I am to have lived in moments that roar of a beautiful Life lived with a heart throbbing to take a leap once again in that ocean of Life's beguiling journey.

Solitude that throws the honest rays of perfect euphoria;
Solitude that makes me breathe in the real me;
Solitude I call it - my abode, my self made haven;
Solitude I call it - the sanguine face of Loneliness.

Sometimes we don't even know what we seek anymore. Life halts for a second, and we see a shadow of dreams, some lived, some unlived. So many stories, so many voices and yet each stands distinct for each took a part of your heart, each made a part of your soul. A list of songs, and a whole lot of unkempt moments, a handful of tears and a whole sky of smiles, so much walked and yet such a long path remains, only the steps aren't the same anymore. Words and silence play within and without as nothing seems real in a world that is made of moments, yet the memories bind a reality that shines vividly through a hole of illusions, an illusion of happiness, an illusion of despair, an illusion of love, an illusion of loss. Someday, perhaps in a distant dream, in a known star, there would be a home, where the void of nothingness will forever merge with the wholeness of moments. Someday, in the stillness of a wild heart, we would hold each other in the sky of that dream, that which isn't sought yet found. Because sometimes, we don't even know what we seek anymore.

A blue sky, a jostling wind, a murky dream, a smiling moon, and a cup of coffee with a song unfinished in those eyes twinkling away a story untold.