Saturday, January 9, 2016, Poush 26, 1422 BS, Rabiul Awal 27, 1437 Hijri

Ahmed Tahsin Shams
Published :Saturday, 9 January, 2016,  Time : 12:00 AM  View Count : 22

On the 14th of December, it was her last farewell-call; yet my breath is not out of function. The 6-month-war, which officially shimmered in summer and bid bye in winter, is still greener and yellower than many of the yesterdays, and of all yet to be born!   
If I am bestowed capital punishment (If I had belonged to those regions) for? perhaps committing adultery or being an atheist, I would choose stoning rather than beheading.
Do you remember those days? The most blissful tenant, once upon a time, my neck had in this life (till now) was your soft rosy Cupid's Bow, the vermilions!
I sold my wedding ring. Everyone faces the other side of the capitalist-coin in this century. Some friends suggested selling my red-black sporty bicycle as it worth almost equal to that tiny-diamond. I guess, you got it why I couldn't let it go.
Magic! Isn't it? You left and I am still alive.
If God were not blind, you would have been watching 'A Walk to Remember' with me in this desert.
50 years, it has been! Everything changed, many met its age. Yet, the same immature child I am. The age of Christina Perri's 'A Thousand Years' faced no growth. 
I got a secret vault -- the scabbard at the bottom of my book-shelf. From inside, one piece of hand-written letter often hums Rabindra Sangeet at nights. 
Often my closed-eyes revisit the dark blue shawl on your beam-white kamiz. And the way you bite your pen (unfortunately not mine), those binge-maker -- oval-shaped vermilions, as if twins of healthy oranges, ? Ops! I titled it mirco, not epic.
At the age of 26, a highly professional English language tutor lost his way to home being away from a 2-min distance. He was kissed by delight on that evening.
While passing the playground near my home, my rickshaw moves on, my feet do the same; but my eyes and visions always find it hard to keep pace with.
One hair is always there to make my head feel that it's not bald yet. 

Ahmed Tahsin Shams is with
The Daily Observer

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