Rehnuma Binta Hafiz

Fragrance of the rocks 


At any time in past I had listened but, never really cared After rain; an illusion of truth got revealed so dear. 

Much dark from its own color; like 

an unraveled look of everything. 

Much dainty smell from soil; like 

an unknown scent of everything. 

Once in a mild cloudy day, upon the street pave; 

I had walked through but, never really knew 

there was fresh moss on some of those 

gathered together; littlesome water glided within the spaces. While I had taken some of those in my hands, 

an icy sense quivered me. 

At any time in now I have never been near enough but, never really forgot those amazed moments over such fragrance of the rocks.



I remended the old glasses that I had broken some months ago, and the wristwatch that had been stuck at 5am for some many years. Then, a decent haircut. 

Walking towards home, I went to the bookstore on the streetside that I used to go, and now ending up only seeing it in passing by. 

Died-down habits 

Long-gone beautiful enthuse 

Reloving those things as I used to, 

I started to relive.