Activities of Rojina Aktar

If I could travel back in time
To the joys, buzzes, excitement, ecstasy of the youthful whims of teenage fantasy, I d scoff and tell myself 'these feelings won't last forever, no matter what you yearn for, it won't always be! '

You reach twelve or an earlier age that puberty takes you under, when five pretty boys serenade you into wet-dream lust-driven wonder, tearing studies & education asunder,
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The digital age & social media has reached global levels, that now to express travellers' tales no longer makes you feel like a rebel.
Travel to deepest, darkest Africa or Asia, where once upon a time the latest fashion fads or music were unheard of or unknown,
But do the same now, and the third world has become Justin Timberlakes second home.
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Love is like the wild rose-briar,
Friendship like the holly-tree --
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms
But which will bloom most contantly?
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Do we ever really mean what we say,
When we greet the postman, the grocer or the neighbour as we rub shoulders on each passing day?

'And how are you Joan, heard your husband was demoted, must be awful! ' are the so-called inquiring utterances that escape from our lips, yet in reality your interest is as useful as what's languishing in her rubbish tips.
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Over Dublin's Rooftops,
I see St Michan's Church,
and the Liffey to its right.
I see the tower of Irish Whiskey
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The thoughts we have
that come each day.
The thoughts that no one
can delay.
...

If I could travel back in time
To the joys, buzzes, excitement, ecstasy of the youthful whims of teenage fantasy, I d scoff and tell myself 'these feelings won't last forever, no matter what you yearn for, it won't always be! '

You reach twelve or an earlier age that puberty takes you under, when five pretty boys serenade you into wet-dream lust-driven wonder, tearing studies & education asunder,
...

I've had my share of necessary losses,
Of dreams I know no longer can come true.
I'm done now with the whys and the becauses.
It's time to make things good, not just make do.
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Death! that struck when I was most confiding
In my certain faith of joy to be -
Strike again, Time's withered branch dividing
From the fresh root of Eternity!
...