Tuesday, February 27, 2024

Life has passed our twenties

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All the writings of the world have already become illiterate have become the translation of all feelings and emotions the beginning and end of all kinds of Manav and superManav senses have been translated there is nothing left to say unexpressed

I thought I would write something. But I have not decided what to write in advance.

The pen was wounded, bruised, bloody, inexplicable from the outside, inside the pen was flying a “eyeless” bird, intense sadness on its bewildered lips, silent pain in the folds of feathers.

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However, I thought I would write something. What to write! All the writings of the world have already become illiterate, have become the translation of all feelings and emotions, the beginning and end of all kinds of Manav and superManav senses have been translated, there is nothing left to say unexpressed.

Still, I thought I would write something, I would write about love, the love that is one of the purest Manav feelings, the love that believes in rebirth, the love that is considered the best in the world, the love that is talked about a lot but people are eager to hear it again and again, I thought that I would write about that love. Although the sentence was hesitant, although the thought was unorganized, I thought I would write, ‘Love’, I thought I would express it in the conversation of two mature Manav beings on paper.

Manabi: I remember a time when we used to talk a lot, like discovering the fertile yet unexplored soil of an unexplored continent inch by inch in open daylight, flowers of words blossomed into stars filling the night sky…

Manav: I remember. We used to talk for hours, how the day passed, how the night passed, a strange magical time surrounded by our lights and darkness…

Manabi: What was I talking about so much, tell me?

Manav: I don’t remember that much, but I remember that there were not important things to remember, words to talk, words behind words, for no reason, unnecessarily, laughing like a broken sun when talking, talking like a rain cloud. Like blackening the face, condescending to speak, hoarseness in speaking, or letting fly wild cries like a flock of pigeons is like a decadent organic existence…

Manavi: It seems that there was no more important work in the world then, unnecessary words were perhaps more than necessary…

Manav: The world was different then…

Manabi: What has changed a lot now?

Manav: Changed. changes This is the rule of the world…

Manavi: You have changed?

Manav: Are you the same as before?

Manavi: You still wake up at night?

Manav: Sometimes…you must not read poetry now?

Manavi: Time doesn’t really happen…

Manav: Time flies so fast, doesn’t it!

Manavi: I think so too, you know…you still write poetry?

Manav: Like Eklavya, I gave up my thumb when…

Manavi: What do you mean?

Manav: Giving up poetry, I gave my mind to business that…

Manavi: Your handwriting was good…

Manav: And your voice… still have the practice of singing?

Manav: away! Boy! All washed away in time…

Manav: So you know! People spend a life as a slave of time…

Manav: Life is very strange…mysterious…

Manav: But I didn’t think I will talk to you again in this life…

Manavi: You are pessimistic forever…

Manav: I’m still like that… I couldn’t even see your profile picture and realized it was you…

Manavi: I have changed a lot. You have changed less…

Manav: I don’t think so… When I realized it was you, everything felt so random, I felt like I was the old me…

Manavi: But I didn’t feel that much in your behavior, what a lot of formalities, ‘you’ ‘you’ and what else…surprise…

Manav: I was actually confused, the shock of the suddenness…I thought you were no longer the old you…

Manavi: No, but I don’t sit thinking about anything like you…

Manav: I don’t remember what happened before, but now I don’t think about it anymore…then and now…how much time has passed between…

Manavi: Once time is gone, it never comes back, right…

Manav: You are in the previous job?

Manabi: Huh…your hobby was keeping colorful fish in the aquarium…do you have a hobby?

Manav : Hobby gone…nothing can really be petted, it seems though Puschi…you had two cats…

Manavi: No, it’s been a long time.

Manav: I think so, this is our chance to talk again…

Manavi: Have you ever thought this could happen?

Manav: Even if I talk to you first, how much preparation…how many arrangements…how many social precautions…

Manavi: Communication is very easy now…

Manav: Although communication is easy, the sigh of distance remains…

Manavi: Everyone in your house is sleeping…

Manav: Huh, I was reading, Jibanananda…I might have gone to sleep after a while…

Manavi: The night is almost over but…

Manav: Everyone in your house?

Manavi: Sleep…

Manav: You do not sleep?

Manavi: Of course you need to sleep, tomorrow will be busy again in the office…

Manav: See today too, the night ended with unnecessary words…

Manavi: So I see…

Manav: Will we talk tomorrow?

Manav: If not or what?

Manav: That’s right…”…life is gone if we pass our twenties—”

Manavi: “…golden-golden chill— Dew hunted the wire—”

Manav: “…after twenty years in that fog, if suddenly you!”

Manav: Impossible…

Manav: Jibanananda has written all the beautiful words…

Manavi: Huh…

Manav: What is impossible can be made possible by some people…

Manavi: Some people can’t. They believe in the impossible, and stick to life in Atpaure…

Excuse me, reader, the thought is not moving forward, the conversation has to be left unfinished, the talk is not moving towards any definite end, or the talk behind the talk. Although I thought I would write ‘love’, but every letter seems to be disjointed, the dialectic is being created, and love is probably replacing the longed-for love little by little, on the other hand, the night is ending, the stars are twinkling in the sky, the sky, the sky after the sky, there is more More sky…

So I have to stop, because everything in the world has to stop at some point, so I put the paper aside, put the pen away.

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