New posts available
Install Silta for a faster, app like experience. Powered by Xorynx.
0/4000 characters
Content must be between 1 and 4000 characters.
Content must be between 1 and 4000 characters.
2026-09-06

A Letter to Nature : Thoughts folded in Brown Leaves 🍂 Continuing, see previous post. That winter when first arrived, that white mist washed everything and purified. I first saw you among the white mist, purest. And my mind filled with that pure mist, I found you so nice and core. When I saw your eyes I can't forget, the afternoon. I spent the winter in delight. Then spring came, with its mind breezes, I felt the depth. I fell in spring, like the brown leaves carrying untold stories. I felt that core of nature, and you. I was one the long path to meet you on the greatest bloom of spring. I waited, I watched. Then a lot of time spent. The end of May, my wishes. Then the end of June, after exhaustion with some unfulfilled wishes. Then July comes, I again found the bloom. I loved the time, I made paintings, listened songs, found the essence. Then your wishes, I felt the bloom of the month. Then a lot of time spent, the rains, the waits. Then autumn, lonely days. Then again the winter. After that many eras spent, I still remember you the same. Today I am writing the letter to August, after June and July spent. May when spring will come next will find it. I know it will be kept under fallen leaves, flying in spring breeze. The next part of the letter will come in next post. Stay tuned.


2026-08-17

Beautiful Boy The Beautiful Boy I have seen before,  An admiration arrives from my heart's core. I've not seen anyone such beautiful,  Mind blown with the greatness of light graceful.  āĻĒ⧁āϰ⧁āώ āϏ⧌āĻ¨ā§āĻĻāĻ°ā§āĻ¯ā§āϝ⧇āϰ āϏāĻ°ā§āĻŦāĻļā§āϰ⧇āĻˇā§āĻ  āĻĒā§āϰāĻ¸ā§āĻĢ⧁āϟāĻŋāϤ āϰ⧂āĻĒ āĨ¤ āϏ⧇ āĻĻ⧇āĻŦāϤāĻž, āĻšā§ƒāĻĻā§Ÿā§‡āϰ āĻĻ⧇āĻŦāϤāĻž āĻļā§āϰāĻĻā§āϧāĻž āĻ“ āĻĒā§āϰ⧇āĻŽ āύāĻŋāĻŦ⧇āĻĻāĻŋāϤ āϤāĻžāϰ āĻĒā§āϰāϤāĻŋ, āĻ…āϤ⧁āĻ˛ā§āϝ āϏ⧌āĻ¨ā§āĻĻāĻ°ā§āĻ¯ā§āϝ⧇āϰ āĻŽā§‚āĻ°ā§āϤ āĻĒā§āϰāϤ⧀āĻ•;  āϏ⧇ āĻŽāĻšā§Ž, āĻļā§āϰāĻĻā§āϧ⧇āϝāĻŧ; āϏ⧇ āĻ‰ā§ŽāĻ•ā§ƒāĻˇā§āϟ āĻĒā§āϰ⧇āĻŽā§‡āϰ āĻĒā§‚āĻ°ā§āĻŖ āĻŦāĻŋāĻ—ā§āϰāĻš āĨ¤ āĻ¸ā§āĻŦāĻ°ā§āĻŖāĻžāĻ­āϰāϪ⧇ āϏāĻœā§āϜāĻŋāϤ, āĻ¸ā§āĻŦāĻ°ā§āĻŖāĻžāϞ⧋āϕ⧇ āϤāĻžāϰ āĻĻ⧇āĻš āĻĻā§āϝ⧁āϤāĻŋāĻŽāĻžāύ; āϞāĻžāϞāĻŋāĻ¤ā§āϝ, āĻŽāĻžāϧ⧁āĻ°ā§āĻ¯ā§āϝ⧇ āĻĒāϰāĻŋāĻĒā§‚āĻ°ā§āĻŖ, āĻ•āĻŽāύ⧀āϝāĻŧāϤāĻžāϝāĻŧ āϏ⧁āϞāϞāĻŋāϤ; āϏ⧇ āĻĒā§āϰāĻ•ā§ƒāϤāĻŋāϰ āĻ…āϤ⧀āϤ āĨ¤ āĻ•āĻŋāĻ¨ā§āϤ⧁ āϝ⧇ āĻĒā§āϰāĻ•ā§ƒāϤāĻŋāϰ āĻŦā§āϝāĻ•ā§āϤāĻŋāĻ¤ā§āĻŦ ! āϤāĻžāϰ āĻŽāĻ§ā§āϝ⧇ āĻĒā§āϰāĻ•ā§ƒāϤāĻŋāϰ āĻ—āĻ­ā§€āϰāϤāĻž āύ⧇āχ, āφāϛ⧇ āĻŽāĻšāĻ¤ā§āϤ⧇ āĻĒā§‚āĻ°ā§āĻŖāϤāĻž āĨ¤ āϏ⧇ āĻĒā§āϰ⧇āĻŽā§‡āϰ āĻĒāϰāĻŋāĻĒā§‚āĻ°ā§āĻŖ āĻŽā§‚āĻ°ā§āϤāĻŋ āĻšāϞ⧇āĻ“, āϝ⧇āĻ–āĻžāύ⧇ āĻĒā§āϰāĻ•ā§ƒāϤāĻŋāϰ āĻļā§‚āĻŖā§āϝāϤāĻž āφāϛ⧇ āĻŦāϏāĻ¨ā§āϤ⧇āϰ āĻāϰāĻžāĻĒāĻžāϤāĻžāϰ āĻŽāϤ āĻļ⧁āĻˇā§āĻ• āĻšā§ƒāĻĻ⧟ āϤ⧀āĻŦā§āϰ āϟāĻžāύ⧇ āϛ⧁āĻŸā§‡ āĻ—āĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āĻĒāĻĄāĻŧ⧇ āĨ¤ He was the boy cutest,  He was the one for whom I was affectionate most. He was the manifestation of bosonto !  He was the inspiration of expression of my feelings and thoughts, the building of my mind to experience the life in new way.  I had seen the fishy eyes  At the heartful afternoon, Under winter sun On the way of station.  There was something mystery  In the curves, the eyes; Cool and calm, straight to me.  I felt shy, voice stumbled.  The Beautiful Boy on stage.  The boy dances on hearts  With the string of lute rang in the rhythm of beats.  The son of stars  Surrounded with dusts of light,  The beautiful boy, his dance overwhelms.  I see, lost my mind and get into. He sings in his honied voice,  Mind melts in the flow and pauses in the sparkling river.  He fills hearts with admiration,  Wins the minds of seer people.  āϏ⧇āχ āϏ⧌āĻ¨ā§āĻĻāĻ°ā§āĻ¯ā§āϝ⧇āϰ āωāĻĻāϝāĻžāĻĒāύ⧇āϰ āĻŽāĻ§ā§āϝ⧇ āĻ•āϤāϟāĻž āφāĻŽāĻŋ āĻ āĻŋāĻ• āφāϰ āĻ•āϤāϟāĻž āĻ•āĻ˛ā§āĻĒāύāĻžāϝāĻŧ āĻĒā§āϰāϤāĻŋāĻĢāϞāĻŋāϤ āĻ“āχ āĻŦā§āϝāĻ•ā§āϤāĻŋāĻ¤ā§āĻŦ ?  āϤāĻžāĻšāϞ⧇ āϕ⧇āύ āϝāĻžāϕ⧇ āϏāĻžāĻĻāĻž āĻĢ⧁āϞ āϭ⧇āĻŦ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞāĻžāĻŽ āϤāĻžāϕ⧇ āϰāĻ™āĻŋāύ āϖ⧁āρāĻœā§‡ āĻĒ⧇āϞāĻžāĻŽ,  āĻ•āĻžāϰāĻŖ āϏāĻŦ āϰāĻ™ āĻāĻ•āϏāĻžāĻĨ⧇ āφāĻŽāĻžāϰ āϏāĻžāĻĻāĻž āĻŦāϞ⧇ āĻ­ā§āϰāĻŽ āĻšāϝāĻŧ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞ ?  āĻāϰāĻžāĻĒāĻžāϤāĻžāχ āĻŦāĻŋāĻļ⧁āĻĻā§āϧ āφāϰ āĻāĻ•āϟāĻž āĻŦāĻŋāĻļ⧁āĻĻā§āϧ āϏāĻžāĻĻāĻž āĻĢ⧁āϞ āĨ¤ Was there anything mistake, I wonder, keep going; What is right ? Anyway spring has come,  Mysterious breezes has started flowing.  My mind keep wondering, The leaves become brown again,  Red jems blooming again on silver trees.  I pause and that, spring has come again.