Dandelion

My dandelion is dry.

All the petals withered away,

The stick is broken,

There is no fragrance.

The thorns are blunt,

I am faded now.

No wonder.

And, no shelter.

Once I had a bush,

Now, I am in a garland!

I am pale now and companionless.

No bees wandering around me—

My place is on the bookshelf.

But, honey, you are so humble.

Don’t forget to mumble.

You are beautiful in every way possible.

Beauty does not lie in utility.

Sometimes withering away makes sense.

Sometimes it means rejuvenation.

Sometimes fading away means regeneration.

You spread a vibe of remembrance.

That’s why you are treasured.

It does not matter if you are in a bush or a garland.

or in a bouquet wrapped up,

It does not matter whether you are grappled.

Your existence soothes the eyes.

Damn, you are a work of art!

Time Frame: 2023, Rokeya Hall, DU

Reflections

A decade went lamenting for you, A decade spent ranting about you, A series of decade has gone by blaming

Emancipation

Faulty stars in the sky leading to a faulty love story—well, stars were not deformed. It was our own fault—a

Racing Hearts

It was nice to know you. It’s a pleasure to meet you. It’s sweet to kiss you. But it’s horrendous

Addiction

You were not my love. You were merely just an addiction, Talking with you over the phone, Fighting over

Circles

Love was a priority then. Happiness was destiny. But now love is not predestined. Sometimes it’s a mistake. But mistakes

Sabotage

I was standing on the brink of a montage. But you always end up bringing about sabotage! I overcame the

Farheen Akter Bhuian