#bengali

এ ভুল করো না, এ ফুল ছিঁড়ো না, তিলি তিলে গড়ে উঠুক এ উদ্যান। ↗

— Abu Taher Misbah

#inspirational #inspirational

Even in India the Hindi film industry might be the best known but there are movies made in other regional languages in India, be it Tamil or Bengali. Those experiences too are different from the ones in Bombay. ↗

— Aishwarya Rai

#best #bombay #different #even #experiences

She is as calm as the wind in the summer, and my favorite chapter, this is love I have captured and it is as strong as the Earth's Structure. My dear, i'm your's from now till forever. ↗

— Steve. N. Gomes

#heartwarming #love #poem #love

ভীতি কখনোই প্রীতির মতো স্থায়ী ফলদায়ক ঔষধ নয়, তবে তাতে সাময়িক উপশম অবশ্যই হয়। ↗

— Abu Taher Misbah

#human-nature #nature

The worst... was what the Pakistani soldiers did to the Bengali women after their failed rebellion. ↗

— Iris Chang

#bengali #did #failed #pakistani #rebellion

Shubha let me sleep for a few moments in your violent silvery uterus Give me peace, Shubha, let me have peace Let my sin-driven skeleton be washed anew in your seasonal bloodstream Let me create myself in your womb with my own sperm Would I have been like this if I had different parents? Was Malay alias me possible from an absolutely different sperm? Would I have been Malay in the womb of other women of my father? Would I have made a professional gentleman of me like my dead brother without Shubha? Oh, answer, let somebody answer these Shubha, ah, Shubha Let me see the earth through your cellophane hymen Come back on the green mattress again As cathode rays are sucked up with the warmth of magnet's brilliance I remember the letter of the final decesion of 1956 The surroundings of your clitoris were being embellished with coon at that time Fine rib-smashing roots were descending into your bosom Stupid relationship inflted in the bypass of senseless neglect Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah I do not know whether I am going to die Squandering was roaring within heart's exhaustive impatience I'll disrupt and destroy I'll split all into pieces for the sake of Art There isn't any other way out for poetry except suicide Shubha Let me enter into the immemorial incontinence of your labia majora Into the absurdity of woeless effort In the golden chlorophyll of the drunken heart Why wasn't I lost in my mother's urethra? Why wasn't I driven away in my father's urine after his self-coition? Why wasn't I mixed in the ovum-flux or in the phlegm? With her eyes shut supine beneath me I felt terribly distressed when I saw comfort seize Shubha Women could be treacherous even after unfolding a helpless appeareance Today it seems there is nothing so treacherous as Women and Art Now my ferocious heart is rinning towards an impossible death Vertigoes of water are coming up to my neck from the pierced earth I will die Oh what are these happening within me? I am failing to fetch out my hand and my palm From the dried sperms on my trousers spreading wings 300000 children are gliding toward the district of Shubha's bosom Millions of needles are now running from my blood into Poetry Now the smuggling of my obstinate leg is trying to plunge Into the death killer sex-wig entangled in the hypnotic kingdom of words In violent mirrors on each wall of the room I am observing After letting loose a few naked Malay, his unestablished scramblings. ↗

— Malay Roy Choudhury

#indian #poetry #art

If a writer starts worring about what he or she has left out or forgotten, they might not be able to write even a single line. ↗

— Baby Halder

#bengali #india #memoir #women #women-writers

At the age when Bengali youth almost inevitably writes poetry, I was listening to European classical music. ↗

— Satyajit Ray

#almost #bengali #classical #classical music #european

My films play only in Bengal, and my audience is the educated middle class in the cities and small towns. They also play in Bombay, Madras and Delhi where there is a Bengali population. ↗

— Satyajit Ray

#audience #bengali #bombay #cities #class