what would my eyes say if they spoke?

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What is there so new that hasn’t been already told? who am I that what i post can be read and felt so good? My words are cold and my hands numb, my heart has started to freeze with every ounce of breath i release.

There isn’t much to describe but if my eyes spoke what would they say, what would they talk about?

In Kolkata there comes a time every year when most of the people are found on their terraces than at homes. They start from morning till the sun goes down and moon is the only source of light and that insufficient light compels them to come down and wait for another day to begin again.

There are losses, there are gains at the expense of someone else’s loss, there are fights and some tugs but all in the name of joy.

What would they do if there was no sky welcoming them with open arms and birds flying a little scared to see their new fierce competition? A tease of wind from here and a blow from there to make all their efforts lighter, heavier and some fray.

Years after years there are people who add to their acquisition another medallion of victory, keep on collecting the instrument for the win, not gold nor silver but something that only nature has to offer.

Their feat shows the insatiable desire of humans, a flightless vision only embroidered with emancipation,

Tied by a thread to the spool, to make others a fool,

to make a feast to the eyes some designs, colors and cartoons.

running along the edge,rushing to the shore line, living in the moment for tomorrow the devil the may care.

An essence of beauty that comes year after year with renewed zeal. With glory of the past and enthusiasm for future. A long awaited fair, long long awaited fair.

All shapes, sizes, colors, creations seen above and everybody of all
age groups seen below.

The occasion that heaven and earth truly unite not for wins or losses but for the passion, for the love that it prevails.



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