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Jayita Bhattacharjee Quotes

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Famous Jayita Bhattacharjee Quotes

“Maybe you are in this sunset hour to make peace with your loss, maybe your life is altered beyond any repair, yet at this moment as the sun comes down and peace has you in its arms, how you find yourself again is about how you learn to live at peace with your loss, how you carry what cannot be carried, how you trudge through the dense agony and ultimately how you come out alive for as unsettling as it may be...when the waters settle, the sun comes out. It may not be the life you asked for, it may not be the life you hoped for, yet there is a life to be lived on the other side of loss, if only you can tear the night.”

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“In the depths of my longing, there comes the tides of love and a dream I once had as the sky breaks in the blush of a sunset. The hushed evening moments, how I devour it with the longing of a starving deep, to pen a poem with unflinching desire..pushing through what is unmet in this life and there comes the raw prose, the unfading emotions to surface that lived in my soul for ages.”

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“That hard sadness when the blue sky turns colorless in the forbidding dark of despair and I struggle like a robin nibbling at my depths to feel the fullness of poetry and all that is tender and sweet for I explode inside to be that drunken soul of summer and impossible dreams that lies deep inside my wellspring where the weeds turn to flowers and moors become mystical forests. Oh, how spring has awakened in my deeps as I desire to be all those things again--the youthful, hopeful, aroused wholeness again. So I can deliver myself to this world, enchanted in my depth”

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“Can you imagine a longing which is not for victory but the face of night, where the moon is aching to light the sky? What if a real thirst is not for the prize to be won, but for the song of night, when lovers whisper to one another's ears? What if, it is a longing for a language that the rivers speak to the sea? What if, joy is not in the conquest but in the quiet unfolding of a greater mystery? What if, a desire is not for the pleasures, but for knowing, how flowers give more of them, emptying them of every scent, only to be filled with the joy of giving? What if, the only longing is to know how waves come home to the shores, and write the story of the sea? How lovers rest in one another's eyes, to melt in the gaze of eternity?”

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“The Sunset Have you ever lost yourself In the sunset that washes the sky Of the day’s garish glory And paints crimson In the hour of blush? Have you ever seen A poise of the busy life, where power and wealth lose their pride, for a human is called by the rosy mystery! Have you ever seen how the heart floats in the sky, Gently, gently over the clouds of worry, Into the westerly where colors splash, Where poems just begin, Where lovers get lost in the gaze. Have you ever seen the sky of crimson spread heavenly sweets, And have you ever sensed the wild and drunken gaze in the language of lovers? Have you ever seen how sunset Takes us to the other side of life, Where despairs die and dreams are born, For therein lies a lover’s glance, In the sweetness and hunger To taste a cup of crimson.”

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“I am longing for you, for this moment, when daylight dissolves in the crimson blush of sky, when poetry comes to kiss our souls. I am longing for you, for this moment when daylight melts in the kiss of night, when the sun softens a little in the thirsty gaze of moon. I am longing for you, for this moment when the day pauses a little to give in to the inviting arms of night, so you and I can melt in the flames of longing. I am longing for you, for this moment when daylight wonders, should it be bold like the garish gold, or should it soften as the moon, the pearl in the sea of dark.”

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“From Saltwater to Freshwater.... The river runs through me, for the burst of rain from clouds atop, fell to the rivers that rushed to the sea. In it, was the dying of grief. How the clouds of torment die, so the river can rush! So, I float as the clouds of dark to break and become the flow of water. The waters of salt, now they are; the fresh water after rain. So I become the mouth of a river in a quiet murmur to the sea. The stories buried in my depths, I give out to the world, where nothing remains unremembered.”

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“How the Freshwater Flows The river runs through me, for the burst of rain from clouds atop, fell to the rivers that rushed to the sea. In it, was the dying of grief. How the clouds of torment die, so the river can rush! So, I float as the clouds of dark to break and become the flow of water. The waters of salt, now they are; the fresh water after rain. So I become the mouth of a river in a quiet murmur to the sea. The stories buried in my depths, I give out to the world, where nothing remains unremembered.”

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