Mahin111

Row upon row of hills. Wherever the two eyes go, there are mountains and hills. Ayen is another Bangladesh and another image of it. The high and low hills have gone to the horizon of the sky by harmonizing the canvas of the poet's imagination. And before the golden dawn of the morning, it is as if a piece of cloud has been scattered on the green hill. Ayen is our Darjeeling. Absolutely ours. Our own. Our Bangladesh. Under Sajek's generous open sky and stars, the earth is like any other planet. In the full moon, when the moonlight shines all around, the top of the mountain. Then a heavenly consonant was created all over the hillside. Even on a moonlit night, thick white fog is waking up in the folds of the mountain. It is as if a group of clouds has gathered in our courtyard. When the unearthly night dawns, the golden sun of the new day falls on the clouds. Yellow river, green hill forest, everything seems to wake up in front of the eyes. It's not just Sajek who has got a b...