Rain and roses always reminds me of the song Raindrops on roses and Maria. And of love on a rainy day.
Thanks to the android phone, I manage to take a rainy day picture just as the droplets hang from the petals.
Just like before the teardrops fall !
This rose bush like most of the plants in our unkempt garden , came from Bhagalpur, my ancestral Shoshurbari. And it was my father in law who would supervise the house and the garden. Giving instructions to the gardener, to his favorite Man Friday "Lokhkhidhor"( It's much later that I discovered that his actual name was Lakhindor as in the Behula tale) The house these days is going to seed. My OCD works overtime, but my energy is showing signs of a car that is having starting trouble.
And my writers' block is working overtime - and I could not complete the write up for our poojo souvenir. Writers' block did I say? I laughed at that - cos I am no writer , really!!! Just jotting down randomly and getting 50 likes does not make me a writer per se!!! And the blue sky just reminds us that Pujo is just around -with the roads choc - a -bloc and the pandals blocking the thorough fare , this is actually my favorite time of the ye ar. This year for the first time in my life I shall in all likelihood stay all alone at Mainak - the three men in my life in three different places. A prospect I am not looking forward to but I cannot miss either, as this is the 40th year and since 1978 it has indeed been a journey that has covered more than half my lifetime. To the point of consensus amid discord for almost three generations, the Puja survived with all its rituals and spirit. And to echo Baba's loudest war cry at bishorjan ...."bolo Dugga mai ki ...Jai! Asche bochor abar hobe !"
And for so many things you aren't there !!!!
Thanks to the android phone, I manage to take a rainy day picture just as the droplets hang from the petals.
Just like before the teardrops fall !
This rose bush like most of the plants in our unkempt garden , came from Bhagalpur, my ancestral Shoshurbari. And it was my father in law who would supervise the house and the garden. Giving instructions to the gardener, to his favorite Man Friday "Lokhkhidhor"( It's much later that I discovered that his actual name was Lakhindor as in the Behula tale) The house these days is going to seed. My OCD works overtime, but my energy is showing signs of a car that is having starting trouble.
And my writers' block is working overtime - and I could not complete the write up for our poojo souvenir. Writers' block did I say? I laughed at that - cos I am no writer , really!!! Just jotting down randomly and getting 50 likes does not make me a writer per se!!! And the blue sky just reminds us that Pujo is just around -with the roads choc - a -bloc and the pandals blocking the thorough fare , this is actually my favorite time of the ye ar. This year for the first time in my life I shall in all likelihood stay all alone at Mainak - the three men in my life in three different places. A prospect I am not looking forward to but I cannot miss either, as this is the 40th year and since 1978 it has indeed been a journey that has covered more than half my lifetime. To the point of consensus amid discord for almost three generations, the Puja survived with all its rituals and spirit. And to echo Baba's loudest war cry at bishorjan ...."bolo Dugga mai ki ...Jai! Asche bochor abar hobe !"
And for so many things you aren't there !!!!
and you re back..
ReplyDeletelooks like it s rain time everywhere..
Thank you Pooja - stay blessed :)
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